Christina Koning has crafted a novel fuelled by tender and observant nostalgia for the innocence of the final days of pre-post-colonialism. The anachronism is the novel's starting point, for Toni, the narrator, is returning to the country where her childhood took place in a hedonistic expat. community of English, Dutch and Americans. She is hoping to retrieve, or discover, the past from the perspective of adult knowingness. It's not possible - the adult Toni can grasp the 'truth' now in ways she couldn't as a child, but in doing so she loses her memory of how it actually lived. The narrative skilfully pulls off the trick of Toni hovering between the two states of knowledge and innocence. Like Hamlet, from which its title is drawn, this is a story of lost innocence. If it were no more than that it would still be a fine work. The special achievement of Undiscovered Country is the way in which the reconstruction of a secure post-war childhood is juxtaposed with the understated horror of the story of Sofie van Wel, a Jewish survivor of the Nazi occupation of Holland. Sofie's distraught consciousness is counterpoised with the child Toni's dispassionate curiosity, and Sofie becomes, like Bertha Mason in Jane Eyre, 'the madwoman in the attic' - an expression of the raw terrors and cruelties below the surface of the sophisticated manoeuvres of love and capitalism. The title of the novel works as a metaphor on many levels - geographical, historical, psychological, spiritual and sexual. Aptly, the narrative is set in Venezuela, the country named for Venus. Read it.