Gerd Altmann | Pixabay

“Here be dragons” is a fanciful cartographers’ annotation that has been historically used to indicate territory that remains as yet unmapped or unexplored. The annotation is much like the appearance of South African dragon fiction itself, which is an uncharted genre-based gem that has undergone a sudden, modern revival between 2012 and 2024 – the years of the dragon.

But where did our obsession with reptiles, sea serpents and eventually dragons take root? I take a deeper dive into local dragon stories and explore why the genre is especially popular today.

From the Drakensberg to the Lonely Mountain

When early Dutch settlers laid eyes on South Africa’s famous mountain range, they would name it the Drakensberge (dragon mountains). However, the Zulu name for it is uKhahlamba, which translates instead to mean “barrier of spears”. If you’ve ever seen an early morning’s mist rolling over the mountains, it becomes easy to see why people recalled vivid images of great, majestic reptiles that could have been flying over its peaks. However, for its harsh terrain and biting temperatures, it’s simultaneously just as appropriate to imagine why the second name for this mountain range exists.

The Smithsonian suggests that dragon tales are strongly influenced by Nile crocodiles, which everyone knows are far from mythical and a real danger to Africa’s inhabitants. After the 2023 KwaZulu-Natal floods, I heed serious warnings from local inhabitants about lurking reptiles near the water – there’s nothing mythical about it.

The roots of local dragon stories go further back, being traced to legends of the grootslang or “big snake” that reportedly dwells in a Richtersveld cave. Stories that would eventually spread from verbal ones to written tales say that the reptile guards the area’s diamond deposits. South African dragons are strongly rooted in stories of water snakes, which served their purpose first as mythical tales, but also maintained their presence as practical warnings against real reptiles lurking in the water. Rivers, especially during heavy rains or floods, are certainly something worth the cautionary tale.

South African readers perhaps encounter their first dragon in the most unlikely place: from translations of the Holy Bible (first in 1933), where the sea dragon called the leviathan is mentioned as something to fear in Job, Psalms and Revelation. The Haitian and African deities Aida and Damballah-Wedo represent creation, with their sigil showing two sky-pointed serpents. Travel throughout Africa has meant that local tales have been at least somewhat influenced by other tales from elsewhere on the continent. At least some dragon stories could have spilled over from the legend of Saint George (Joris) and the dragon, in which a patron saint defeats a fire-breathing dragon.

The Afrikaans expression translated as “poking the dragon” means to mess with someone intentionally, and is a saying that was eventually translated from its Dutch equivalent. Antirrhinum majus, called the snapdragon, was somehow translated into leeubekkie, or “lion’s mouth”, over time. Lest readers forget, Tolkien was born in Bloemfontein, South Africa, and might have taken at least some of his inspiration from the continent. Africa, he reportedly said, always moved him deeply.

Beowulf is cited in works as one of the earliest appearances of the classic European, fire-breathing dragon, and is also one of Tolkien’s known inspirations. The smaug giganteus, or giant girdled lizard, is named as a tribute to the fictional treasure-guarding dragon from JRR Tolkien’s epic, which guards the Lonely Mountain.

The South African dragon evolves

Bianca Van Dijk en Alan Frijns | Pixabay

Witches, magic and dragons were less popular topics during the height of apartheid censorship, being considered too strange or arcane to mention, and no doubt delaying the publication (or translating) of multiple great works.

Outside of the feared biblical leviathan, South Africans are likely to remember the more adorable Sarel Seamonster, created by cartoonist Johan Roos in the 1970s. Younger readers – especially ones who grew up with respiratory problems or house smokers – will remember the novel You can do it, Desmond Dragon!. Published in the 1990s and later translated to become Danie for Afrikaans readers, the story’s dragon visits a wizard – and instead of gold, it gets gifted an inhaler to keep up with his fire-breathing family. Popular author François Bloemhof explores his own water-based reptilian mythology in The water creature, first published in 1997, though the story’s antagonist isn’t known for breathing fire.

Dragons appear to be a somewhat later addition to South African popular fiction, a topic that was perhaps willing to emerge from the depths of imagination more often as censorship lifted and free thought flourished.

The years of the dragon: 2012 and 2024

Dragons achieved a distinct spike in their mainstream popularity during the 1990s and 2000s, driving popularity towards board games like Dungeons & Dragons and somehow also providing fuel for religious paranoia that still associates dragons with the ancient, feared beast from Revelation.

The years of the dragon – with events happening both in 2012 and 2024 – seemed to put draconian fiction both cute and serious back into the spotlight. LitNet launched a unique writing competition seeking dragon fables to mark the dragon year; this was won by author Elza Smal. When the world didn’t end on 21 December 2021 according to a supposed prophecy, there was a good opportunity for fictional dragons to flourish until the year 2024 – which brings us back to the next year of the dragon.

The dragon princes (Die draakprinse) by Elrien Scheepers appeared via Oxford University Press (2012), becoming absorbed into Afrikaans language studies for seventh grade. The rage of dragons is a Xhosa-inspired fantasy novel, originally self-published in 2017 and later named one of the best 100 fantasy novels by Time. Its characters are granted the unique power to call down dragons.

Author Jaco Jacobs wrote Waldo and the dragon with the green tongue, introducing a fantastical sleuthing tale that begins with an object stolen from an antique shop. Jacobs also translated Nicola Kinnear’s novel Dragons don’t share into Afrikaans, continuing the tradition of the powerful and evocative dragon character myth. The same year, 2024, also marks a full translation of the Harry Potter series into Afrikaans (translated by Janie Oosthuizen) – the Norwegian ridgeback comes to mind.

The years of the dragon bring an appropriately timed revival of dragons in fiction, and time will still reveal what future authors might do with the ancient legend.