The Fossil Artist
by Graeme Friedman
(Jacana, R145)
It is difficult to tell whether a son losing a father is worse than a father not being able to connect with his son even when present in his life. Friedman digs to the heart of this conflict in The Fossil Artist.
Russell, a father of two, is an optometrist whose archaeologist father, Barak, abandoned him and his mother at the age of 13.
His elder child is 16-year-old Savannah, with whom he’s always had a wonderful relationship. His second child, Luc, is seven years old and suffers from an illness resemb-ling autism that has driven a wedge between them.
When reading the newspaper one morning, Russell comes across an article about two mummies found in a coastal cave in Cape Town.
One of the mummies is his long-lost father. Barak’s disap-pearance had left Russell shattered, to the point where his wife accused him of being emotionally “dried up”.
With Barak making a sudden reappearance in his life, he is forced to face the anguish he’s been stifling for decades.
Russell develops a curiosity over how his father spent his last years on earth, placing him in Barak’s shoes and forcing him to revisit his childhood of fossil gathering and analysis.
There’s also the mystery of the second mummy which was found with Barak’s remains.
It turns out to be that of a woman who, unfortunately, as an autopsy reveals, died while giving birth. The corpses were found with some of Barak’s belongings which included digging tools and a few notebooks.
Russell realises the closest he could ever come to knowing about his father’s whereabouts after his disappearance is through the notebooks he left behind.
He reluctantly examines their contents and another side of Barak’s life is revealed.
Freidman uses amazing figures of speech.
I was impressed with the way he took the plot, which centres on anthropological history, and made it relevant to the lives and relationships of Russell’s family and at the same time poignant .
The read is simply exquisite.
It will fascinate the anthro-pologist and warm the hearts of those who are the keepers of their families. – Tshepo Tshabalala