For anyone who has neither heard of nor watched ngoma music or dance, Louise Meintjes's book provides a captivating introduction to the vibrant and dramatic spirit of this Southern African art form. The book informs the reader that the Zulu ngoma ‘grew out of a system of migrant labor developed by South African state and … [that there] are three Zulu ngoma substyles: umzansi, isishameni, and isiBhaca’; each style combines ‘choreographed group work and individual improvisation and is danced to call-and-response singing and clapping’ (p. 8).

The book describes ngoma as a ‘living aesthetic with a deep past’ in which ‘most of the time, singing and dancing [is] more than a political act or a representation of cultural identity’ but in which ‘sometimes it is just playing’ (p. 25). The ngoma which emerges from the book is a warrior dance characterized by competitive energy and high drama as the warriors push, and are pushed by, their opponents to emotional and physical limits; each ‘warrior/dancer is expected to strive to “be in control at the edge” which is a way to register vital components of Zulu masculinity’ (p. 48). Isgqi, an underlying aesthetic in ngoma, is that ‘sense of power experienced when all resources are momentarily consolidated’ (p. 48). The ability to render this sense of power, politics, danger and virtuosity marks the high point of Zulu artistry (p. 65), and this push to and control at the edge often elicits ulaka, which is the need to respond and accept the challenge of the one at the edge. This dance of skill, and the test of masculine endurance and élan, Meintje successfully brings to life on the pages of her book. She traces ngoma's evolution as dance and politics through the lens of South Africa's apartheid and post-apartheid history, culminating in the devastating emergence of HIV/AIDS in the late 1980s and the 1990s. Meintje also looks at ngoma and its artists in contemporary national and international music culture and commerce – what future there is for these artists and their art.

Dust of the Zulu has eight chapters, with an introduction and a conclusion. Chapter 1, ‘Turning to Be Kissed …’, discusses ngoma's performativity in which, through songs, dances and competition, Zulu masculinity is celebrated. Chapter 2, ‘The Unwavering Voice …’, explores eloquence, affect and the expression of moral anger. Just as the body is pushed to the limits, so also is the voice during an ngoma performance; but the voice must not waver – the singer must remain in control in order to outlast the opponent, who should be righteously angry almost to the point of ‘violence’ (ulaka) – violence rendered through art. Chapter 3, ‘Feet of the Centipede …’, explains how ngoma as a dance of the warrior is underpinned by a military aesthetic that offers mechanisms and a space for reconciliatory politics (p. 97). Chapter 4, ‘To Quell the Dancer's Dust …’, continues the theme of violence embodied in the figure of the warrior and argues that ngoma cannot be understood without an understanding of its relationship with mediated violence (p. 146). Chapter 5, ‘The Crossing …’, centres mainly on Johnny Clegg (Sikeyi) – the White Zulu – and his fusion of ngoma with rock to create a unique internationally recognized Afro-rock music with his band Savuka, while chapter 6, ‘Dancing around Disease’, outlines the link between the devastating HIV/AIDS epidemic in South Africa and its impact in the very population out of the which the singer-dancer-warriors are drawn. Chapter 7, ‘The Digital Homestead …’, explores how ngoma can emerge from the constraints imposed on it by the structures of South Africa's apartheid history, to become a professionally viable music form in contemporary post-apartheid music industry. And chapter 8, ‘Brokering the Body …’, examines the brokerage of culture/ngoma, both by the singer-dancers themselves and by the emerging diaspora cultural entrepreneurs, who all hope to profit from the cultural image of the ngoma warrior on an international stage. Chapter 9, appropriately titled ‘Closing …’, concludes by linking ngoma's masculinity and South Africa's complex struggles through and after apartheid.

In spite of its fresh insights into ngoma, the book is unfortunately weakened by the author's idiosyncratic first-person style that detracts from what are its inherent intellectual and critical qualities. This notwithstanding, Dust of the Zulu contributes to the ever-growing literature on indigenous African theatre and performance; its strength is the author's captivating descriptions of the dance and the drama of the competitions.