"Invictus" [Latin for "invincible" or "unconquerable"] takes its title from a short poem by the English poet William Ernest Henley written in 1875 and first published in 1888 as part of a series of poems entitled Life and Death (Echoes). [See the entire text below.] Its last two lines are famous: "I am the master of my fate/I am the captain of my soul."

In the film, this poem served as a source of inspiration during Nelson Mandela's long imprisonments. From his first arrest in 1962 through 1990 at both Robbin Island off the coast of Cape Town and at Pollsmoor Prison nearer the mainland Mandela knew the life of a prisoner first hand.

"Invictus" becomes a unifying symbol in the film as Mandela gives the poem to Springbok captain, Francois Pienaar, before the Rugby World Cup. In fact, Mandela gave Pienaar an extract from Theodore Roosevelt's "The Man in the Arena" speech from 1910.

Clint Eastwood's sons Kyle Eastwood, who contributed original music, and son Scott Eastwood, cast as one of the Springboks, show some of the range in the Eastwood family. The film's uplifting score features the capella singing group "Overtone" from Johannesburg.

Director Clint Eastwood deftly shapes "Invictus" with strong performances by stars Morgan Freeman and Matt Damon. "Invictus" is a film of enormous integrity and heart.

INVICTUS
by William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

I'd been noodling with how to re-commence my blogging life, and this seemed to be a good way back in.

Apartheid. It's extraordinary to me that a grown woman in the early 1990s couldn't have known about Apartheid. Here's the beginning of the Wikipedia entry on Apartheid:

Apartheid (meaning separateness in Afrikaans, cognate to English apart and -hood) was a system of legalized racial segregation enforced by the National Party government of South Africa between 1948 and 1990. Apartheid had its roots in the history of colonisation and settlement of southern Africa, with the development of practices and policies of separation along racial lines and domination by European settlers and their descendents.

So, at that time, the time the best-selling romance author didn't know what Apartheid was, Apartheid had just ended, and it was a HUGE victory for humankind, for human rights. It's beyond belief that anyone in the entire kingdom of the world could not have known not only what it was, but that it had ended...and the enormous costs of that ending.

Getting to Know Apartheid First Hand, Just a Little

When I lived and worked in Botswana (twice) in the 1970s, I went through South Africa mostly for travel. During one period, I had to frequently go there in order to return to Botswana and refresh all my permits and visa as I struggled to get legal.

During that time, I understood ever more fully the destructiveness and crushing-ness of Apartheid. I couldn't even walk with Black African friends on the streets.

My parents, when they came to visit me, on their way up to Botswana, still in Johannesburg, got on the wrong bus...the one for blacks. The Black Africans on the bus waved frantically to them to get off. My parents were slow on the uptake, but obeyed instructions. To them, it was just a bus, not part of an intricate system of oppression.

To be in South Africa now, Post-Apartheid, was such a joy, such a relief.

Seeing Color as a Way of Honoring

In conversation with my blogging buddy Damaria Senne at her kitchen table in Johannesburg recently, we spoke about how folks say, "Well, I don't see color." We both laughed, expressing how outrageous we felt this belief to be.

I said, "I want to say to these people. 'Oh, is there something wrong with your eyesight? Have you been having problems focusing recently?'" And then we laughed some more.

And then Damaria, with her delightfully wicked sense of humor, said, "Yes, maybe we could loan these people some glasses that would allow them to see color and all the rest that makes each of us unique."

And we continued talking, in perfect agreement that seeing color was not the same as being a racist and that to see color is to honor the completeness of the person you are seeing. To see color is be comfortable with color: one's own and others'.

We Walk Down the Street...Together

And, now, in 2008, 18 years Post-Apartheid, Damaria Senne and I can walk together all around her neighborhood and over to a street with swanky shops without fear of being picked up by the police simply because a white woman and a black woman walked together. A black woman and a white woman walking together? It is unremarkable, as it should be.

So, no matter what anyone wants to say about the state of the nation...we have now have that in South Africa. And, to me, that's quite a bit.