Yvonne Vera is an artist - a painter with words. The images she conjures, her amazing gifts to the reader, that grace the pages of this incredible novel, come straight from her soul - which is obviously filled with a deep love and compassion for her homeland, Zimbabwe, and its people. In these few pages (less than 200), she manages, through the related experiences, thoughts and emotions of her four main characters, to enlighten the world about the joyous/painful rebirth of Rhodesia into Zimbabwe, and to comment with cutting insight on forces as universal to all of humanity as love, hate, peace, war, kindness, unspeakable cruelty, and selfless, unconditional devotion.

She does all of this by utlizing language that is some of the most poetic and beautiful I have ever been blessed to read - her prose is by turns stark and loving, sheltering and illuminating, protective of what is fragile and precious, and unflinchingly revelatory about what is shameful and despicable. Her writing style varies so subtly as the story demands that it sometimes shifts imperceptably between long, graceful, sweeping word-strokes and choppy thought-bursts that could be described as literary pointillism. With some of the incomprehensible violence that occurs in this story, the beauty of Vera's writing is even more of a blessing - without, it would be a great temptation to turn away. That being said, there are also examples within of some of the most wonderful depths of the human spirit.

On the first level a story about the effect of the struggle for (and after) Independence on four people - two women, sisters; and two men, one compassionate and one a killing machine - the novel expands in depth to address multiple layers of human emotion and experience. In just one example, Vera's work here delves deeply and inspiringly into the types and purposes of memory - its coexisiting roles that aid us in understanding, protecting us, connecting us with our past and our environment, and healing us.

A word of warning, to those who might be tempted to mentally shelve this wondrous novel in 'African fiction' - to do so will do a horrible disservice, not only to this author and her work, but to yourself. This is a novel that can - and should - be experienced by sensitive readers regardless of their ethnic or national background. It speaks to the universality of the human soul - I cannot recommend it highly enough.

Yvonne Vera is an extraordinary author. Stone Virgins is beautifully structured and every word is essential as Vera weaves this exquisite Zimbabwean story from every angle. I agree with Ama Ata Aidoo in the editorial reviews: this book deeerves to be recognized as one of the most notable novels of the twenty first century.

Yvonne Vera's talent is amazing - she is gifted with the ability to relate stories set in her native Zimbabwe with stunning literary grace and beauty, opening the lives of her characters to the readers' eyes and hearts, laying bare the lovely and depraved and everything in between. That she does all of this and additionally illuminates and brings forth the universal aspects in each and every instance bears witness to the fact that, while she may be an African writer, writing about African people and events, she deserves to be recognized, admired and honored by the world at large - and the world at large owes it to itself to discover her talents.

BUTTERFLY BURNING is set in a Rhodesian township in the late 1940s - long before Independence from British rule. The black citizens (who, in reality, weren't recognized as citizens in their own country) were reviled by most of the whites, looked upon as a source of cheap labor and criminal activity. They weren't even allowed to walk on the sidewalks with the 'imported' white citizens. The heroine of Vera's novel is a young woman named Phephelaphi - orphaned as a young girl and raised by a close friend of her mother, she is filled with a burning need to always become more, to see her life expand without limits. This longing became widespread in the hearts of women in the West many years later with the rise of feminism - women sick of being relegated to cooking and cleaning, aching for more of an education and more of a chance to find their place in the world. Phephelaphi's yearnings lead her ever forward - emotionally, socially, and with respect to a potential career. When her path crosses with that of Fumbatha - an older man with a kind heart and a bruised and battered past (as many in Rhodesia were) - she finds love and security, and, for a while, satisfaction and fulfillment. With all of the love he can offer her, however, Fumbatha cannot fulfill all of Phephelaphi's needs - and her search to meet these needs brings her both joy and sorrow. The joys she experiences will raise your heart to the heavens - and her sorrows will break it.

As in her newest novel, THE STONE VIRGINS, Vera breathes palpable life into her characters - they are immediately acceptable and accessible to the reader. The physical settings - both the natural world and the world of the township and city - spring to life as well through the careful brush-strokes of the author's words. All of it blends together into a style that entertains on one level, certainly - but this writing will affect the reader on many, many levels. There is a depth and beauty here - and a natural grace - that is a rare thing in writing. Vera's novels are short (two of them, WITHOUT WORDS and UNDER THE TONGUE, are contained in one volume), but don't be deceived - once begun, they expand exponentially, and they will resonate within you for years to come.

I found this book while browsing my local library shelves.

The story of a young woman's longing for selfhood in an Arfrican township during the 1940's speaks volumes to all of us who have felt, at one time or another, trapped in the seeming bleakness of our surroundings.

The writing is startlingly beautiful in its imagery, rich and full of bittersweetness like chocolate. The words come in floods and tides, you are literally overwhelmed by her words. They, alone, give their own experience.

The story of Phephelaphi is visceral: you do not merely read about her life, but feel it through her pain. Vera writes with the African closeness to nature and being; it is not an easy read, but one that will stay with you long after the last page is turned.