With humour, eloquence, empathy and delightful Gaelic charm, Diana, as a child, travels from Johannesburg to Ireland to a stately home with world-famous gardens. While the talk above stairs was of horses, rare plants and fishing; below stairs it was of banshees, the little people, ráths and the foxy-haired ghost. As an adult she returned to Africa, where she doubled for Grace Kelly in Mogambo; unwittingly employed a Mau Mau leader; met the king of cheetah racing; challenged the authorities at the height of apartheid – and emerged victorious.
‘Diana Duff’s memoir is feisty, humorous and poignant. It’s an evocation of a lifestyle that the world will never accommodate again – particularly in Africa. More’s the pity, because somehow we don’t seem to breed such iconoclastic, fey and nonconformist characters any more. Diana has a remarkable memory for detail, and she writes with a kind of wry wit that is most engaging. I thoroughly enjoyed ‘Leaves from the Fig Tree’ and look forward to Diana’s next book.’ – Patricia Glyn, broadcaster, journalist, committed African and author of Footing with Sir Richard’s Ghost and Off Peak.
‘The Kikiyu people … were to me fascinating … the descriptive way in which they spoke of things, illustrating with hand and tongue a thing that had happened, so that it came alive. One spoke to me once of years passing and conjured up a picture of a great fig tree, the leaves falling, each leaf another year of his life.’
‘Diana Duff’s memoir is feisty, humorous and poignant. It’s an evocation of a lifestyle that the world will never accommodate again – particularly in Africa. More’s the pity, because somehow we don’t seem to breed such iconoclastic, fey and nonconformist characters any more. Diana has a remarkable memory for detail, and she writes with a kind of wry wit that is most engaging. I thoroughly enjoyed ‘Leaves from the Fig Tree’ and look forward to Diana’s next book.’ – Patricia Glyn, broadcaster, journalist, committed African and author of Footing with Sir Richard’s Ghost and Off Peak.
‘The Kikiyu people … were to me fascinating … the descriptive way in which they spoke of things, illustrating with hand and tongue a thing that had happened, so that it came alive. One spoke to me once of years passing and conjured up a picture of a great fig tree, the leaves falling, each leaf another year of his life.’
