Dr Pamela Heller-Stern

Read the latest historical novel from the author

About Pamela

Pamela Heller-Stern was born on the 28^th October (the same day as Harry Oppenheimer) in the Inverugie Nursing Home in Sea Point, Cape Town.

She grew up in a multi-religious succession of schools from Sub A & B at a Presbyterian Church School, followed by junior school at Loreto Convent, also in Sea Point and Standards 4 & 5 (at that time, unlike now where there is no Sub A & B) at Zonnekus Primary School on the Milnerton border with Dutch Reform emphasis and dual medium classes alternating between English and Afrikaans. Finally high school at a predominantly Jewish school, The Good Hope Seminary in Vedehoek, Cape Town.

A bookworm and a rebel, as a child she read under the sheets with a torch when she was supposed to be asleep.

HER BOOKS

WHO’S KNOCKING ON MY DOOR

IT’S A RED MOON & A GREEN MAN

THE PINK SLIPPERS

HAVE A HEART

Jose Dale Lace

Essays

BARBARA STROZZI: BAROQUE COMPOSER AND FEMINIST

NADIA BOULANGER: TEACING MIDWIFE OF THE GREAT COMPOSERS

CECILE CHAMINADE: THE UNRIVALLED PERFORMING PIANIST

FANNY MENDELSSOHN: BRILLIANT BUT UNRECOGNISED COMPOSER-GENIUS OF THE ROMANTIC ERA

CLARA SCHUMANN: COMPOSER AND PERFORMING PIANIST PAR EXCELLENCE

WOMEN COMPOSERS – UNIQUE, ECCENTRIC, UNACKNOWLEDGED

JOSĒ DALE LACE OF JOHANNESBURG’S RANDLORD ERA: A BELLE EPOQUE BOMBSHELL

MORE ABOUT THE PYRAMIDS OF GIZA AND THE ARCHAEOLOGICAL DISCOVERIES OF EGYPT

THE INCAS OF PERU: A UNIQUE CIVILIZATION

INTERVIEWS WITH PAMELA

“Whose knocking on my door” written in a different style

Pamela Heller Stern on her novel The Pink Slippers

REVIEWS

Carl Landsberg

The eminent American literary critic Edmund Wilson made a telling, if rather axiomatic observation that “No two people read the same book”. Pamela Heller-Stern’s novel “Who’s Knocking on my Door” is likely to provoke powerfully ambivalent responses from readers, on account of its contentious and discomfiting primary theme, Death, and also its wayward, unfamiliar and fragmented style which eschews conventional syntax, grammar and punctuation.

Likewise, the tenor and tone of the novel and the cool, dispassionate narration (mostly in the third person by an unnamed, genderless and omniscient narrator) appears transgressively outmoded and distancing. The device of an uninvolved narrator is a risky one, since a number of very private details need to be presented as if they were within the range of the narrator’s experience. It is a measure of Heller-Stern’s skill as a novelist that one never questions the authenticity of the storytelling.

She masters an effortless prose and writes with immense assurance, switching between first and third person narration, alternating passages of dense metaphorical and literary prose with demotic vernacular, everyday observations and dialogue. Her especial forte, like Christopher Isherwood or Saul Bellow, is social observation, closely written descriptions of characters, the actualities of lived lives, and vivid, memorable characterisation, including interior characterizations.

A particular blend of detachment and specificity marks this type of fiction writer – Chekhov might not be far off the comparative mark. In this respect the novel is very much a psychological novel dealing with personality development and presents a sequence of coming- of- age stories. The characters are engaging, eminently real in their desires, contradictions, vulnerability and blind spots (Arthur Miller asserted that the writer’s job is to ‘tear away the veils of denial’). It is unlikely Heller-Stern’s readers will ask themselves: “do I believe this?” This is surely the mark of a gifted storyteller and entertainer.

Who’s Knocking on my Door?

Richard Dancer

In the pre-amble to this book we are teased into expecting a catalogue of intrigues, curses and deaths. And in many cases Pamela Heller-Stern delivers. Yet it is more than that. Because death, often a taboo topic is given full play – candidly, fearlessly and often abruptly to the point of dismissal. The author talks of death and indeed some other equally sensitive topics in an admirably matter-of-fact way with more of a shrug than with a dollop of sentimentality. This is perhaps a brave stance in the realms of modern novel writing. But not so with today’s cinema. This to me is the clue. For this work is inescapably cinematographic. The rich imagery and characterisations stand out over the narrative which is sometimes fragmented, a little repetitive and on occasions predictable. But that is the way of modern cinema.

Heller-Stern’s writing style, in this presentation of four portraits or four novellas, has been acclaimed as an innovative literary style. To me it is poetic, more so than prose. Perhaps a hint of where Heller-Stern’s heart really lies. But the halting, fragmented sentences, which break all the rules of textbook grammar, give it a pace and an urgency which borders on journalistic, but is far more committal. At first reading I found the process to be a little lumpy and stopped every few lines to question why the author had chosen to break the words where she did – even re-running the line with my own breaks to see if it read any better. It was almost as though I was hitting potholes as I raced along a road paved with capital letters and full stops. However I soon settled into the pacey style and found myself reading as if there was no punctuation at all! I suppose that I became absorbed into the realm of images and pictures which are pure cinema.

The book’s detail is evidence of the author’s impressive research. The characters are strong and lavishly described. To me all are individuals, even though some of them do lapse into the collectivity of their societal contexts. To me there is no family curse, no ill-luck. Just Providence playing out its inevitable hand, seemingly in many cases without cause or reason. The characters (and the cast is a large one) all claim their own identities in a way that Carl Jung, or even Meister Eckhart might have approved. A weakness, if there is one, is that they all hail from a narrow raft of well-to-do middle class post-colonial society, whether South Africa’s Cape coast or America’s Ivy League belt. As such they seem to be a little over-sexed, over-stressed and under contented. Only a handful seems to be mindful of making a contribution to society at large.

Stanley stands out for me. Not because he is the first to appear, nor because he prefers a reclusive rural environment. But because he vividly experiences hardships, survives them and then succumbs to an unexpected and ironical turn. Perhaps this is Heller-Stern’s slightly tongue-in-cheek statement about the unpredictability and seeming senselessness of it all.

Who’s Knocking on My Door? is a good read, if a little challenging in style and content. As a piece of cinematographic writing it is a good watch!

Justice Margaret Victor

Barbara Stuart

Carl Landsberg

Hi Pam…

Your novel is excellent; it makes sense to revert to a more conventional and conversational prose style so as not to hamper the narrative impetus and the vast sweep of history encompassed in the whole-life portrait of José Dale Lace…

The novel’s chapter headings as per your previous novels serve as signposts/leitmotifs for the unfolding narrative; as always catchy and appropriate and reflecting the carefully mapped architecture. The structure of the book is intricately mapped and planned and bears evidence of the two-year gestation period in the writing and voluminous research.

As anticipated the novel reads like the wind, short chapters keep the attention from flagging; your novel is meticulously researched and annotated as expected, fascinating, and does full justice to its subject. The well-considered layering and accretion of details are especially enjoyable to read, almost serving as cameos which embellish and burnish the character development and narrative; a skilful picture of the manners and social mores and class distinctions of late 19^th Century Britain and dawning era of the new emancipated woman… and equally a most authentic depiction of Johannesburg as an upstart mining town growing at a feverish pace from the late 19^th Century onwards and the affluent lifestyles of the Parktown Randlords.

Your novel gives a convincing sense of a distant time and place and the privileged life of its refined but maverick leading lady as well as the numerous people in her social and family ambit. I particularly liked the intricate descriptions pertaining to fashion, apparel, hair styling, corsetry, interior décor, equestrian activities, fine dining, modes of transport and most especially the account of the commissioning and construction of Northwards and also the various dwellings and gardens José Dale Lace inhabited/visited viz. hotels, spas and stately homes.

I particularly liked the use of a prologue and epilogue as a framing device for the novel, bookends to the narrative; the observations of the semi-autobiographical narrator-journalist “Grace Kilmartin” pertaining to the Villa Cimbrone on the Amalfi coast as a mirror and counterpoint to Northwards in Parktown, the contrasting fortunes of Ernest Beckett and John Dale Lace being especially clever and the oblique reference to José in the prologue piques the reader’s interest (as does) the seminal role of Ernest Beckett in José’s life, the roué seducer who compromises her reputation and whose ignoble renunciation of his marriage proposal propels her rebound marriage to John Dale Lace. The Prologue and Epilogue work effectively as a zooming out and zooming in, and jump cut into the present from a 100-year-old narrative. The elemental link between José and John Dale Lace, as with many long-time partners, expiring within a few months of each other is quite touching. The chamber music recital at the close of the novel brings the reader up to date with the present-day Northwards restored by George Albu and the lingering charm and atmospherics of the mansion, especially the Great Hall, the focus of Herbert Baker’s architectural plan….

I enjoyed the restrained use of dialogue which is plausible and sounds authentic and in-character; the skilful imagination of correspondence between José and Nellie, her sister, and her various benefactors – the compendious detail of entertainments, lavish dinner menus, suppers and social activities and intrigues befitting the moneyed classes.

The closing of the novel is enigmatic and delivers a witty tiny frisson with the idea of a ghostly José sweeping down the grand stairway towards the Great Hall where she must have made many dramatic appearances….

It was judicious of you to request the use of the portrait (of José Dale Lace) for your cover and a stroke of luck to be granted permission to reproduce the iconic portrait on your cover; José was celebrated for her beauty, glamour, flair for fashion and vivacious personality. She is the epitome of the Belle Epoque bombshell. Her appeal was primarily to men….The portrait is larger than life (quite literally) and exquisite and so was she….The novel is dense with historicity and (contains) details relating to inter alia the Anglo Boer War, Jameson Raid, conflicted allegiances and politics of the Randlords, the course of the First World War, sinking of the Galway, eclectic Arts and Crafts architecture in Johannesburg in the early 20^th Century, the humble trade/origins of many of the Randlords, the vagaries of personal fortunes and politics in the lives of the Randlords and the intrusion of bad luck in the lives of John and José Dale Lace. For a slim novel, it is quite encyclopaedic in scope; not much is speculative or sketchy. The chapter detailing a grand banquet/dinner at Northwards has the full crowd of Randlords and captains of industry in attendance- Lionel Phillips, George Farrar, Solly Joel, Sammy Marks etc.

As always a highly visual and compelling narrative which would translate especially well as a bio-pic or NETFLIX series. I particularly liked the chapter detailing the temporary exile/relocation of the Dale Laces to East London during the Anglo Boer War and the elaborate preparations for bathing, and the chapter depicting the young José’s maiden voyage to the UK with her chaperone, snappily dressed and hectoring to visit the blue dining room on the cruise ship.

In summary very well done…consider this one (this novel) an unqualified success.

Regards

Carl