So the year is 2023. Three years prior HCV or the Human Culgoa Virus  pretty much wiped out all men, thus any remaining males are rare, valuable commodities, for all the obvious reasons (think sperm or ‘white gold’).  Two sisters are fighting for possession of one 12 year old boy, Miles. Although from South Africa originally they are all currently in America, but sister Cole, mother of the prized boy is desperate to get him, and herself, safely home. The other sister Billie, is on their trail and desperate to lay her hands on the boy - for nefarious reasons (think kidnap).  With one having tried to kill the other, the tension is heightened and deception levels plummet to dark and ugly depths.  
Along the way we get involved in:  The dirty dealings of the Department of Men and the grim facility where survivors are held, Cole’s relationship with her savvy but impressionable teenage son (which is a lot to do with staying on the same linguistic wavelength), with ‘his’ transformation into a ‘her’ as Mila, and Billie’s agonising attempts at staying alive and focused with a suppurating head wound. We also travel with mother and son, as well as their pursuers,  to Florida for their escape.  Along the way, we meet up with some finely crafted wicked and weirdo characters, as well as a bizarre cult-like order of nuns, the Sisters of All Sorrows, a band of flawed women struggling with their identities.
If that were all, it would be just another scare-story. But what makes Afterland so compelling over and above the man-gone concept, is Beukes’s way with words – her cinematic images, insightful references and finger-on-the-pulse dialogue.  In another life, she’d make a helluva good script writer – if indeed she isn’t already. Another of her earlier books The Shining Girls has just been taken up for adaptation into a TV series to be produced by Elisabeth Moss and Leonardo DiCaprio. And just while we’re name-dropping, in his review in the New York Times, writing guru Stephen King describes Afterland as ‘a smartly written thriller that opens with a satisfying bang.’
But what is so gob-smackingly eerie about this title is its coincidence with the very real viral pandemic in the grip of which we find ourselves right now. Nope, Beukes wasn't clairvoyant nor privvy to any prescient medical intel  – she started writing the book at least five years ago having done her usual meticulous, hands-on research to find out more about viruses. But that it finally came into being at almost exactly the same time as COVID19, sends shivers up the spine – or through the sperm.  Of course unlike HCV, not only men are targeted by COVID – but the gender focus in Afterland raises all kinds of additional issues. Which will surely get you thinking. Enjoy the ride!

She writes with a sharp wit and, coupled with huge affection, she cuts to the core of the subject. And if you think that’s a pun….well maybe it is because the novel is in part a love story to food, with village life and travel to distant parts thrown in.  But more importantly it was inspired by the little known story of the 110 young Italian men recruited to work on the South African Railways in the 1950s – and who brought the wonders of Italian cuisine to this country.
It is the early 1950s. Picture the scene. Campino, a tiny village in the North of Italy, is typical of village life. Everyone knows everyone’s business, families are extended, the farmers are rough and gruff, where the town gossip relishes misdemeanours and tragedy, where weddings are everyone’s business and where frog risotto is a local delicacy. Meet the coffin maker, the silkworm farmer, the baker, bulky Zia Andromaca and orphan Pistola.  Brought up by his grandfather, Nonno Mario, who is renowned for his cooking skills and his voice, the teenager hardly remembers his mother, who died in the war, and the father is a mystery.  Pistola (given name Ettore – I’ll leave you to guess why he was called Pistola) is in love with the local pig farmer’s daughter Teresa, who also happens to be his second cousin. Pigs are an important part of village life - think anti - pasta and you’ve got the picture.  
‘There have always been twice as many pigs as people in the valley. Male pigs are smaller than females and have to perform miracles.’
Food is a second religion and greetings such as ‘have you had a good meal?’ are more common than ‘how are you?’ When Teresa is destined to marry the local thug, the task of planning and cooking some of the many wedding feast courses falls to Nonno Mario.  A heartbroken Pistola drowns himself in helping his grandfather as his dreams of the future slip away.
To ease the heartache Pistola accepts a job in faraway, apartheid throttled South Africa. Working on the trains as a steward this young naïve village boy takes his first steps to manhood. From Johannesburg’s Hillbrow to the jazz clubs of Sophiatown,  Pistola and his compatriots explore a new world and start finding out who they really are – and what they really want.  But it is when Pistola falls in love with the activist Malikah, that the trouble really begins.
This deliciously sensuous novel grabs you from the first as Prendini -Toffoli writes with an energy and full bodied style that is easily read and thoroughly enjoyed.  Italy in its finest traditional food glory is beautifully illustrated and she contrasts this with what was on offer in the then South Africa.  Scenes are set with precision and it is a veritable feast.  Pistola’s dream of becoming a restaurateur by taking over the local mansion in his village, is somewhat distorted as, with adventures galore, family intrigues and unexpected journeys, his path takes some unusual turns.
Such a real book – I lived the streets of Hillbrow, the cramped apartment living, the transient population and remembered the popularity and the treat of going to a ‘real’ Italian restaurant in the 1970s.
What a legacy these young men left on our food landscape.
When I closed the book I wanted the story to go on…i want to know what happens to Pistola next and for me that is a sign of great characterisation and an engrossing, warm story. Oh, and this story with its colour and characters would make a great TV series. ​