Review of Tim Winton's Eyrie

Tim Winton is one of my favourite authors and so it is always with a certain amount of anticipation that I read his latest offerings. Eyrie did not disappoint me. I think there are two types of Tim Winton novels. The first type, like Cloudstreet, has quite a detailed and dramatic plot, Cloudstreet being a multigenerational family drama. The second type has a sketchier plot but is heavy on the characters internal drama, with incredible prose that grips the reader and thrusts them into the main protagonist's mind and world. Eyrie is like this and I loved it.

The novel is about Tom Keely at a particular juncture in his life. He is divorced, jobless and becoming increasingly isolated from life busily going on around him. Eyrie provides a gorgeous metaphor for his situation, he is physically in an eyrie, in a rundown apartment at the top of a city high rise building, and he is emotionally cut off too. We meet him perhaps at his lowest point, where he is savagely hungover from a night of abusing prescription medication and alcohol.

Winton explores a number of other contemporary Australian issues through his character Tom. Tom used to be a successful environmental campaigner and advisor. He is now completely disillusioned with what is happening in his state of Western Australia, which for all intents and purposes is controlled by the mining industry. Winton does a brilliant job of exploring the ugliness of what this so called prosperity has done to some of Australia's cities which in a short number of years have received huge sums from the mining boon. I live on the other side of the country in the state of Queensland where similar issues have confronted some of the cities and towns here in the wake of mining success.

Most of Winton's novels are set in sun soaked Western Australia, Eyrie takes place in the city of Fremantle. Winton describes in searing detail what mining has done to this city in particular and Western Australia generally. Through the eye's of Tom, and the people he encounters, the reader also experiences what mining prosperity has done to the social conscience of the people; Winton is scathing and does not hold back in showing the underclass of broken people who barely exist away from the hipster haunts and shiny developments.

A woman, who used to be a neighbour of Tom's when he was a child, moves into his building with her grandson, and Tom is forced slowly but surely over the course of the novel, to move outside of his own suffering and connect again with the world. As much as the story is about the bigger issues of the cost of prosperity from the mining industry, it is also Tom's personal story. I was very moved by Tom and his struggle to forgive and connect. The supporting characters are multidimensional and vivid also. Tom's mother is especially good.

I loved this book. I like Winton's writing generally. His prose is visceral and in the readers face, or more correctly he puts the reader right in the body and mind of his characters, you can't escape. It's a completely nerve jangling experience. The pace of the novel rockets along. It is the best sort of page turner. I find his style unique. Winton is economical with his words and he knows how to write emotions up close and unleashed.

I think some readers have found this novel too dark, and that's okay, parts of the story are dark. I think it is also probably a testament to Winton's success and following that he seems to be at a point in his career where he can perhaps write the stories he feels really passionate about. Good on him I say. There is nothing wrong with a novel with a social and environmental conscience, especially when it is as engaging as this one.

Review: The Husband's Secret by Liane Moriarty

I have only recently discovered Liane Moriarty novels and can see myself working my way through them all. I have listened to the superb audible version of Big Little Lies, which I will review in the future, and borrowed the hardcover version of The Husband's Secret from the library.

The Husband's Secret is the sort of novel I would love to choose for a long haul flight. It is undemanding but engaging and satisfying. Set in suburban middle class Australia, it explores domestic secrets. Incidentally so does Big Little Lies. The secret in The Husband's Seret is a doozey and Cecilia, the wife, like Pandora can't resist opening the box, in this case a letter written by her husband many years before, and finding out what the secret is.

And so the driver of the novel is that once known, knowledge can't be unknown, no matter how much we might wish it to be so. Moriarty has a real knack for constructing her plots with the interweaving lives of her characters, without taxing the readers suspension of disbelief. She also has a gift for dialogue; her characters, especially the female characters, are brought to life through their talk and interior musings.

I like this book because the voices are familiar. This book is about humdrum ordinary people trying to deal with relationships, raising children, the tedium of the everyday, and loss. Moriarty honours the failings and strength of people trying to negotiate all of the stresses and expectations of this modern world.  She prises open the domestic and reveals the secrets and heart ache often lying just below the surface; secrets that largely remain hidden and unknown.

The Aussie Author Challenge 2012

I am well and truly up for the the Aussie Author Challenge hosted by Joanne P over at Booklover Book Reviews. I read heaps of Australian fiction anyway, but I am always keen to discover new-to-me authors and read more from my favourites. The challenge also has an incredibly cute logo:

I will participate at the Dinky-Di level reading twelve Australian books by six different authors. Immediately I know I want to read Jasper Jones by WA based author Craig Silvey and I want to try another of Kate Morton's, The House at Riverton. That should get me started. You can learn more about this challenge at Booklover Book Reviews.

The Distant Hours by Kate Morton

This is the latest offering by Brisbane based novelist Kate Morton.  It is the first of hers I have read and I do regret that I did not like it more.  The reason I regret not liking it more than I did, is because she is a best selling novelist from the city I grew up in, and when I see her interviewed she seems so thoughtful and likeable.  Basically, I think I should have read one of her earlier books, and now, alas, after having waded through the more than 550 pages of The Distant Hours, I can't see myself picking up another any time soon.

From the book jacket:

It starts with a letter, lost for half a century and unexpectedly delivered to Edie's mother on a Sunday afternoon.  The letter leads Edie to Milderhurst Castle, where the eccentric Blythe sisters live and where, she discovers, her mother was billeted during WWII.  The elder Blythe sisters are twins and have spent most of their lives caring for their younger sister, Juniper, who hasn't been the same since her fiance jilted her in 1941.

You know,  Morton does write well, there is plenty of lovely original descriptive prose throughout the novel.  She creates a good sense of place in the woods surrounding the castle.  More so than in the castle itself, where the idea of the whispering walls struck me as a bit silly, or at least overly romantic.  The story also contains some really good elements.  It has interesting ingredients, a modern and WWII setting.  To be honest, I think I have read too many books lately using the sort of narrative device where the reader is jumping from the modern era back to an earlier mystery.  At least I didn't enjoy how it was executed in this novel.  There were too many jumps and I just felt exhausted with it.   In the end it was just too long in my view.  The characters did not engage me to the degree that I needed to sustain my interest for that many pages.  I think the idea might have been that the castle itself is one of the main characters.  It just didn't hang together that well for me, and parts of the plotting were overblown or predictable.

I could see why some readers would really enjoy this novel.  If you like expansive, languid and descriptive prose, with some intriguing historically romantic themes, then you may enjoy this.

Also, don't forget to enter my  New Year Book Giveaway and a very happy New Year to you!

When the going gets tough, I seem to read crime fiction.

I don't know about you, but the end of year usually sees a bit of an energy decline and emotional overload for me.  I am not sure the precise reason, but my reading did slow down over the last few weeks.  Fortunately that little dip has passed, and my reading enthusiasm has been fully restored.  During the slump I did read a couple of fairly decent crime novels.  To be honest, I think that is what I love about crime fiction: yes it is formulaic and predictable at times, but who cares?  Sometimes there is nothing nicer than to plunge into the world of unlikely murder and body disposal, to make one's own life seem positively bliss. 

Firstly I read Skin and Bone by Australian MD and author Kathryn Fox.  It is a very competent police procedural.  Detective Kate Farrer has returned to the homicide squad after three months off.  I liked the character of Kate because she is a bit controlling and irritating.  I guess I liked that she was in some ways unlikeable. Makes for a change from the irascible male detectives and super stylish female pathologists who generally populate the genre.

As to the plot of Skin and Bone, there is nothing especially remarkable about it; we have Kate and co discovering the remains of a burned female corpse, without an immediate identity, and the presence of a nappy bag suggesting that there is a missing baby.  The hunt begins, and of course leads to some very seedy and unlikely connections between the ensuing cast of suspects. 

I think what I enjoyed most about Fox's writing is the interesting medical procedural aspects.  She writes well about the forensic side of things, no doubt her background as a doctor contributes to this, and there is some heart to the story and characters.  For those that like the medium speed police procedural, Fox is worth checking out.


Now to the high speed, sleep depriving , and my current crime writing favourite, Jo Nesbo.  Yes, I couldn't resist going one more round with Detective Harry Hole (pronounced Hula) this year.  The Devil's Star is the fourth Hole novel I have read since discovering this series earlier this year.  Honestly, these books are so "unputdownable" (and yes, I know that is the most irritating and cringy word know to reviewing, but if ever I was going to use it, it will be here) that they should come with a health warning. 

I have tried to think about what makes these books so compelling.  And I can only conclude it is the character of Harry himself.  I mean, it is like Nesbo has taken what we have come to know and love in our irascible detectives and taken it to warp speed.  Harry is not just a little maudlin, brooding, hard drinking and smoking, sparse living, unlucky in love, but irresistible to woman type.  He is much worse than that.  Harry is a full blown alcoholic, a focus of ridicule in the Oslo police force, whose working life reads a bit like a psychedelic drunken binge, lurching from oblivion to self imposed periods of abstinence, where Harry appears only one crumpled cigarette drag from his whole world crashing down around his ears.  Needless to say, at over 190cm tall, this haunted and time ravaged detective is still irresistible to women, and utterly unlucky in love.

Like all of the Hole novels I have read, the plotting of The Devil's Star is complicated but faultless.  By the time the killer is revealed, the reader has been lead through so many turns and culverts, without stopping to draw breath, that the denouement always feels like a gasping relief.  This novel was different for me too, because Oslo is experiencing a heatwave, which completely changes the atmosphere of what I have come to love about the usual ice-packed Scandinavian crime novels.  The heat works, because Harry's alcoholic haze seems even more depressing, everyone is sweating all of the time, and the author has had to be even more creative and macabre in finding ways to hide his murdered corpses. 

In The Devil's Star, Nesbo has delivered another tightly written, high body count, espresso paced crime thriller.  If you like your crime to feel like a surge of adrenaline that won't release you until the last page, you must try these books.

Vernon God Little by DBC Pierre

Well this book sure is something.  I think I admire parts of it, but I mostly didn't enjoy it.  To be honest I don't think I was supposed to.  It reads like a rant; a satirical, anti western culture rant.  It took me most of the book to even begin to understand why it might have won the the 2003 Booker prize, not to mention a whole swathe of other awards.

As a complete aside, this is the third book I have read in the last month or so, that is at least partly set in Texas, how strange.

Vernon is a 15-year-old who witnesses a shooting massacre at his Texan high school.  Events quickly conspire to implicate Vernon in the shooting.  The premise of the novel, I think, is that society is so awful (especially the media and other aspects of corporate and individual self interest) that a teenager such as Vernon, battling with his grief and trauma from the shooting, not to mention his own "coming of age" issues could be pushed into a position that has nothing to do with justice and everything to do with satisfying the needs of others.

Not surprisingly I think, the novel reminded me of The Catcher in the Rye, and to be honest that novel is not one of my favourites either.  I didn't fully engage with Holden and I certainly didn't warm to Vernon.   Again, I probably wasn't meant to. 

So I don't get bogged down I think from here I am going to keep it simple and say what I felt were the strengths of the novel and what didn't work for me.

The strengths:  The narrative arc of the book is brilliant, all the little bits fit together at the end, and the pace and tension is well maintained.  The humour is dark to the point of excoriation.  Pierre, well and truly makes his point, all is not right with western culture, especially when it comes to our media appetites.  The small town and its characters are also very well drawn, painfully so.  The insecurities and petty back biting feels very real.  I guess most importantly, the writing itself is good, the man can write; great use of dialogue, both internal and spoken.

Where the novel didn't work for me:  I don't think I like satire in my fiction, maybe it is as simple as that.  I want to be moved or entertained by a novel, not yelled at or completely grossed out.  This is an angry and often ridiculing voice, I was put off by it.  I guess my revulsion could be a testament to Pierre's brilliant characterisation because this journey with Vernon feels like going on high speed ride with a foul mouthed, cynical yet vulnerable teenager.  I was glad when it was over.

In short, I will be heading back to the Victorian classics, science fiction and historical fiction. If however, The Catcher in the Rye is one of your all time favourite novels, or you like your contemporary fiction with a darkly comic edge, you might really enjoy this book.  I would love to hear if others have read this, and what they think.

Foal's Bread by Gillian Mears Readalong Part Four

The Foal's Bread Readalong is hosted by Danielle at The Book Nerd Club.  We have reached the end of the novel and so today's Readalong focuses on the final chapters, coda, and last thoughts.

Well, what a dramatic and moving finale!  And yes, spoilers follow. The whole narrative comes together in the final chapters.  From first to last, this has been Noah's story.  From giving birth as a child herself, in the lonely turbulent waters of Flaggy Creek, the story ends with Noah plummeting to her death, on her beloved horse, in those same waters.  The coda, which is written from Noah's daughter, Lainey's perspective, reassures the reader that Noah's courage and sacrifice enabled her daughter to lead a full life, outside of the shadow that she was forced to endure.

I think I have made it clear throughout, that I was moved by these characters, especially Noah.  The final chapters made me think of my own mother (now deceased) and while my mother did not face all of the same challenges as Noah, thank goodness, she did grow up in a simple country setting and faced some of the same obstacles, especially reduced opportunities.  Gillian Mears convincingly conveys what life must have been like before and after WWII for men,woman and children in rural Australia.  It could be a sparse and lonely existence, and the possibility that individuals could abuse their power over children, was often not even considered.

The hardest aspect of the novel for me was the "grooming" of Noah and her daughter Lainey, by their respective uncles.  This is very hard to read.  It was all too horrible to consider.  And to be honest I found myself, pushing aside the clues, in the later chapters that Lainey was singled out for abuse by her uncle.  My deliberately pushing aside, what I didn't want to see, in relation to characters I had become close to, I believe, accurately mirrors what can happen where individuals fail to acknowledge what they don't want to see, and like me, just hope for the best.  Good writing, like good art I think, can invite us to examine our reactions to something.  This worked for me here.

The words brave and courageous, are often used glibly, in my view,  to describe what an author chooses to tackle.  In this case, I feel that Gillian Mears was very courageous to unflinchingly incorporate these difficult aspects as part of Noah, and her family's story.  I would like to think that the environment we live in now is different, and there are more "checks and balances" so to speak, and that children have more of a voice, but we know that is not always the case, even today.

So yes, I shed a tear at the end, and I think it was mostly because Noah's story was so moving.  She had so few resources to call upon in terms of power and communication, but she was resolute and fierce when it came to protecting her daughter.

Overall, I think this is a remarkable book, I love the Australian context, the symmetry in the narrative, and the tone and style of the writing. Thank you, very much, to Allen & Unwin for the book, and a big thank you to Danielle for bringing the Readalong to my attention.

Foal's Bread by Gillian Mears Readalong Part Two

This is the second instalment for the Foal's Bread Readalong, which is hosted by Danielle at The Book Nerd Club.  We are now halfway through the novel, with this instalment covering chapters 7 through to the end of chapter 13. 

Spoiler Alert: discussion of the content follows

These chapters more or less seem to cover the duration of WWII, and follow the inhabitants of One Tree through those years.  The persistent melancholic mood of the drama is underscored by Roley's legs becoming more and more useless.  The consequences of Roley's disability are far reaching: he is rejected from signing up for the army, he is less able to do even basic work on the property, and perhaps most sadly, he becomes more and more remote from Noah.

A harsher edge appears in Noah, as she becomes isolated in her work at One Tree; milking the cows, looking after the horses and her two children.  Noah finds temporary solace away from One Tree, drinking with her aunts in the town.

The incredibly sad family situation is beautifully balanced by Noah and Roley's emotional investment in their children and the horses.  The long barren Gurlie is finally with foal and gives birth, bringing joy and hope to the family.  The section ends with all of the family back in the saddle, practicing jumps on the property.  After an exhilarating afternoon on the horses, the section ends on a sour note, as a large rupture appears in Noah and Roley's relationship. Roley is left to reflect in despair.

I continue to really enjoy this story.  It is an Australia I recognise.  I will explain.  While my upbringing was about as urban as can be, my mother's family is from the country, and as children, we spent a number of holidays,  with my country cousins, feeding chooks, milking cows and riding horses.  Country people, even to this day, have elements of the Gillian Mears's characters.  They are often not big on talking, and are more likely to come out with an astute and pithy one liner, than endlessly discuss the merits of this or that, as I enjoy doing. 

I can see the house at One Tree in my mind's eye.  So for me Mears accurately and magically recreates an authentic rural family setting.  Those WWII times are not that long ago, and even less time seems to have past in a lot of rural areas.  The corrugated iron, the stock rails, and the endless cycle of animal care;  I love how she has captured all of these elements.   She also captures the common sense and make-do attitude of the people that go with these settings.  For me, the tensions that exist within, and between the characters, ring completely true.

I do feel involved with the characters and really look forward to learn where their lives lead next.  The high-jumping circuit no doubt beckons for Noah and her daughter Lainey, but it will be interesting to see how Roley will endure his secondary role.  I wonder how Lainey and her brother George, who have led quite an isolated life thus far at One Tree during the war, will cope with the show circuit, especially given their mother's pent up emotions seem likely to burst through at any moment, and their father retreats more and more into himself.

Foal's Bread by Gillian Mears Readalong Part One

The Foal's Bread Readalong is hosted by Danielle over at The Book Nerd Club.  Gillian Mears is an Australian novelist whose work I was unfamiliar with, but I do love a good tale with an Australian setting so was keen to give Foal's Bread a go. 

Information about the novel by publishers Allen & Unwin:

The long-awaited new novel from the award-winning author of The Grass Sister tells the story of two generations of the Nancarrow family and the high-jumping horse circuit prior to the Second World War. A love story of impossible beauty and sadness, it is also a chronicle of dreams 'turned inside out', and miracles that never last, framed against a world both tender and unspeakably hard.

I am completely swept up in this story and these characters.  When I started reading Foal's Bread I was immediately  reminded of Australian novels that I read when I was a teenager, thanks to my mother's love of Australian fiction, by authors such as Ruth Park and E.V. Timms.  More recently, I have enjoyed this type of Australian setting and characters in novels by Tim Winton, Peter Carey and ChrisWomersley.  Foal's Bread is a brilliant example of this type of book: excellent writing, engaging plotting and characters that I know I will be weeping over before too long.

Spoiler Alert:  Discussion of Preamble to Chapter 6 so be warned.

I was shocked and compelled by the opening of the novel where the reader is introduced to fourteen year old Noah as she gives birth, with only pigs for company, in a cold mountain stream, all on her own.  I am certainly eager to see if the baby survived and reappears later in the novel. Or are we meant to assume that the baby drowned?  Either way it is powerful stuff, and not only gives the reader a clear idea of what young Noah's life has been like, but also a strong impression of her character and spirit.

There is a preamble before the story opens and while it is beautifully written, having a poetic and wistful feel to it, I am not sure that it really added anything for me.  This probably comes down to personal preference, but in my view, the Chapter 1 opening is really strong, and I don't know that the preamble actually achieves that rearview, or looking back perspective, that the author is possibly shooting for.  It made sense that way when I re-read it now, but I have only done that because I am writing about it.  Normally I don't think a reader would bother.

Foal's bread is a love story in the most wonderful, fleeting-joy-and-lots-of- tragedy, sense. And by the end of Chapter 6, the arc is well and truly descending into tough times for Roley and Noah.

I am loving it all.  It is dramatic and moving, without being too sentimental. 

I also find the characters in Roley's extended family delightful and really well drawn.  Can't you just imagine the sister who likes to bake and is especially kind to the children?

I also like the perspective of pre WWII Australia, and what the coming of the war, so close on the end of WWI,  meant for these regional areas.  Min's grief and protectiveness of her family make a lot of sense to me, as annoyingly frustrating as she is.

My final thought is that while there is lots of drama in the narrative, the characters continue to reveal more of themselves and develop in complexity, which is satisfying.  And, this really is the final thought, the relationship between Noah and Roley is wonderful and nuanced and oh so sad. I grew up with Jacaranda trees everywhere you see, and I daresay I will not look at their beautiful purple October carpet again without thinking of Noah and Roley.   I will stop before it becomes painful!  Two thumbs up from me so far.

The Fix by Nick Earls

The Fix is the most recent offering by Australian author Nick Earls.  I have long loved Earls's breezy, conversational writing style and his novels are often set in Brisbane, where I grew up, which is a bonus.  The Fix is impressive and from what I have read of his earlier books, a bit of a departure from his normal, humorous, perils of being a student or relationships fare.

The Fix begins with Josh Lang returning to Brisbane after being in London for a few years where he worked as a "fixer" or a spin expert who specialised in selling the unsellable.  Back home in Brisbane, his employment prospects are not looking too bright. He has a weekly blog for a local news publication where he supplies quirky pieces.  His brother Brett, at their mother's insistence, finds an assignment for Josh with a legal firm that his own business has had dealings with.  The assignment seems straightforward enough; he is to guide one of the firm's solicitors through the publicity associated with him being awarded a bravery medal for protecting the senior partner in a hostage taking siege.  The young solicitor in question turns out to be Ben Harkin, an ex-friend of Josh's.

Josh needs the money and so decides that irrespective of the bad history between them - the good looking and successful Ben had slept with a girl friend of Josh's years before - he will do his professional best to guide him through the medal ceremony and media engagements.  And after all, it would all be over in a couple of weeks.

From the outset, the story of the siege, where Ben emerges as hero after the gunman, a disgruntled, presumed psychotic, client of the firm is shot dead, seems fishy to Josh.  Ben's reluctance to speak about the details don't entirely make sense, nor do the senior partner's instantaneous efforts to see that Ben is awarded a bravery medal.  Ben is as inscrutable to Josh as he had been in the past, when they were friends. 

The Fix is really Ben's story told from the perspective of Josh.  It is clever and engaging, and the tension builds steadily so, even though the reader knows there will be a surprise in store, the ending still delivers.

This is a Nick Earls novel in that it is filled with quirky characters and scenarios, that while offbeat, are endearing and recognisable.  Earls writes dialogue well.  He has a flair for capturing the awkwardness and insecurity of many social interactions.  He creates a wonderful sense of place by writing about unconsciously observed details in a few words. The action takes place in the central business district of Brisbane, and the surrounding suburbs, as well as the tourism extravaganza of Surfers Paradise and The Gold Coast. 

I saw Nick Earls at the recent Brisbane Writers' Festival and was impressed with his presentation and interaction with the audience.  He looked like he enjoyed talking about his book and made it look easy, but confessed when asked about this, that he has improved over the years and consciously decided a few years ago that if he did a little bit of preparation he could look forward to such events. 

Do I think non Aussie readers would enjoy reading The Fix?  I think there are added joys for those that know Brisbane and The Gold Coast, but his style is accessible and witty, he brings his settings and characters to life, and the novel struck a chord with me in exploring the mysterious and unknowable in our relationships with others.  Perception is all as they say, and our perception, as much as we might try for it not to be, is always plagued by our own stuff.  If you liked the movie The Sting, The Fix, has a similar feel, though fortunately, you don't need to read The Fix twice to understand what happened.

Review: Frantic by Katherine Howell

I decided to read this book for two reasons: firstly, it is a crime fiction novel by an Australian author, and as a reasonably big reader of the genre I thought I ought to "read Australian" so to speak and secondly, the author was going to be speaking at an event that I was due to attend at The Brisbane Writers Festival and I was curious.  I have to take a deep breath to write this review, because unlike many of you, I am not good at reviewing a book that I really disliked.  So here goes!

The author, Katherine Howell worked as a Sydney ambulance officer for more than ten years.  Frantic is the first of her four crime novels that feature police and paramedics.  The premise for the novel is promising; Sophie a young paramedic, is married to Chris, a police officer, both work in busy inner Sydney precincts.  Sophie's world is turned upside down when her husband is shot in the head on the front doorstep of their home and their eight month old son is abducted.

The writing is generally plodding and over-explained.  There are a couple of fast paced action sequences where it flows better.  For instance, a scene near the beginning of the novel where Sophie and her paramedic  partner are fighting to save the life of a baby and mother during a difficult birth, is smooth and engaging.  For the rest, I was constantly aware of the awkward and clunky style of the prose.

I found the plot painfully predictable.  I would imagine most readers would have solved the whodunit early on in the book, and from then on, there is nothing to build or maintain any sort of tension or suspense.  I was also disappointed with not feeling like I was in Sydney when I read the book.  I know the areas where the story takes place and yet, it could have been anywhere.  There were no references that built a sense of place.

With a couple of exceptions, including Truth by Peter Temple, which I couldn't put down, I generally have not enjoyed Australian crime fiction.  Usually when I don't like a book,  I won't finish it or I certainly won't review it.  I am not sure if I am glad I have written about Frantic, it feels a bit self indulgent to be really critical about a book don't you think?  It makes me think about what I am wanting to achieve with my blog.  The writer has at least put her work out there.  Who am I to be negative?  I just didn't enjoy it.

It has been a busy weekend and I am behind in my reviews, but, on a brighter note, I have recently finished two books by Norwegian crime novelist Jo Nesbo that were mind-blowingly good.  I suspect that is part of the reason Frantic fell so flat, the comparison was a catastrophe.

Review: Year of Wonders by Geraldine Brooks

There is nothing so enjoyable as escaping into some high quality historical fiction don't you think? Year of Wonders by Australian author Geraldine Brooks is absorbing, human, full of drama, and I loved it. 

Geraldine Brooks, who has also worked as a foreign correspondent for publications like The Wall Street Journal,  starts all of her fiction with a kernel of historical fact. Here, the voluntary quarantining of a Derbyshire village, Eyam, in 1666 that is beset by plague.  The novel, through the narrative voice of a young maid at the local rectory, explores the villagers response to this immense crisis. 

The premise; what happens to a village where more people have died of plague than still remain, was always going to be ripe for good story telling potential. But Brooks really lets rip and through her amazing eye for detail and imagination brings the village to life, from the people, to the muddied streets to the sickening manifestation of the bubonic plague itself.  And she weaves the whole story together in 300 pages.  As a complete aside, I have recently read another novel by a former journalist, Snowdrops by AD Miller, a more different story to Year of Wonders I can't imagine, but my point is, that I really liked how Miller crafted his narrative arc too.  In both cases the novels begin at almost the end, and then describes how the heck the narrator got there. 

Anna Frith, the rectory maid and narrator of Years of Wonders is a beautifully balanced character.  From the beginning we learn that her life was devastated in the year before the plague, when her husband was killed in a mining accident.  We also quickly learn that Anna's two young children fall early victims to the plague.  This is Anna's story and how she manages to hang on through the devastation and create some sort of life for herself. 

A central theme to the story is exploring human responses to the unknown.  In 1666, there was no science to explain the plague, so no one understood why this hideous disease had come to the village, how it was spread, or how it chose its victims.  Fear, suspicion and prejudice, combined with grief and trauma make for a devastating mix in the village, as everyone is forced to confront their own death.

Anna also bears witness to the unmasking of many of the villagers.  Brooks fully explores the theme of crisis revealing an individual's true, core character.  And there are plenty of surprises to this end right up until the conclusion of the novel.  Brooks makes her point very well, that there are so many layers to a person, and sometimes it is only when everything is taken away true nature is revealed.

In more recent times Brooks has written the much acclaimed Caleb's Crossing.  Year of Wonders is the first novel I have read by her and I can't wait to read the others.  Her writing is exquisite and sensitive, and she evokes a magical sense of place.  If you like historical fiction then I would encourage you to give Year of Wonders a go.

Review: Lilian's Story by Kate Grenville

I enjoyed this novel by Australian author Kate Grenville, after a bit of a bumpy start.  Lilian's Story was first published in 1985 and is a real favourite amongst Australian readers.  I was prepared to dislike it because I often find it difficult to fully engage with some of the, overcoming of childhood adversity or "triumph of the human spirit"  type stories.  And while Lilian's story certainly fits that bill, its effect completely snuck up on me, and far from contrived, I found it genuinely moving and surprising.

 The novel, told by Lilian in the first person, begins with her childhood, where the reader experiences the isolation and strength she must employ to withstand her father's cruelty and abuse, and her mother's disengagement.  Lilian eats excessively to try and create a barrier between herself and her father. 

I won't relay more of the plot details, except to say the book is divided into three parts: "A Girl", "A Young Lady" and "A Woman" which take the reader through the shaping of this woman from a bullied, but resourceful child, to someone trying to find her place in the world and realise her dreams.

Grenville uses a number of literary devices.  The chapters within the parts of the book, are very short, sometimes only a page long, this increases the pace of the narrative.  The brief chapters also seem to correspond to a life remembered in chards, and like memory, certain details stand out  with brilliant clarity and significance.  The meaning of events to Lilian is conveyed consistently and effectively.   The dialogue in the story was italicized, not enclosed with quotation marks.  While I am sure this was done to add to the remembered, first person, feel of the narrative, it mostly just annoyed me.

Lilian's story is peopled by some wonderful characters.  Her younger brother John is an interesting character, and their relationship, plagued by the influence of their abusive father, is poignantly portrayed as it endures into adulthood. 

Themes relating to mental illness and societal reactions to mental illness in the first half of the twentieth century play a major role in Lilian's life and story.  While the story is set in an earlier era, the issues around mental illness and its misconceptions still seem relevant today.  Where Grenville succeeds, is in creating a story that celebrates everyone's unique story.  She invites the reader to consider and remember that behind every face there is a story.  Like that wonderful REM song "Everybody Hurts", and some people have experienced such a degree of trauma in their lives, that to cope they may no longer fit an image of what others consider normal or acceptable.  For me this is what Lilian's story is about and where it shines.

Lilian's Story reminds me a great deal of Sebastian Barry's "The Secret Scripture" in its themes.  The Secret Scripture was one of my favourite reads of last year (in the top two), and while Lilian's Story did not hit the same heights for me, it is none the less impressive and memorable.

Review: Scission by Tim Winton

Scission is an early collection of short stories by Australian author Tim Winton.  "Scission" is the theme that unites all of the stories.  And yes, the word had me running to the dictionary, I will freely admit. It means the tearing, or ripping apart of of something.

All of the stories highlight the moment when someone's world is split or torn apart.  For the majority of the 13 stories, the scission represents an emotional awakening where there are often, but not always, negative real world consequences.  It is a testamont to Winton's skill as a writer that he is able to describe this subterranean world of human emotion so vividly.

I loved these stories for many reasons. One reason is because the writing is as good as the writing in his best novels.  If anything, I have found that good writers bring an even sharper edge to their short fiction, that is certainly the case with Scission.  These stories hit the reader with an almighty visceral wallop,

The first story "Secrets" is about a young girl trying to come to terms with the changes in her family as a new step father takes over the power in her home.  "A Blow, A Kiss" is a moving portrayal of a father and son's insecurities, but underlying love for each other, as, on the way home from a day's fishing expedition, they come across a motor bike accident victim, on a deserted road.  "Neighbours" comments on multiculturalism in Australia, in a poignant tale of a newly wedded couple who, move into a house in a culturally diverse neighbourhood, and are awakened to understand that differences with their neighbours are tiny compared to what they all share. Although Winton wrote this story 25 years ago, it is a tale equally relevant, if not more needed, in the Australia of today.

All of the stories are really a preparation for the the last longer short story in the collection titled "Scission", it is about the collapse of a relationship with the worst possible outcome.  This story did unnerve me because as shocking and violent as the scenario is, we hear of relationships ending in death on a regular basis in the media, even today. 

Not all of Winton's writing will be to everyone's taste, at times he does appear to completely let go and his work can feel a bit disjointed and  abstract.  There is no spoon feeding here.  But I have found that by letting go myself and just absorbing the words without worrying about the exactness of things, the whole is revealed and usually leaves me gasping.  He is a fine, original writer.

Review: Bereft by Chris Womersley

I am very excited about this novel by Australian author Chris Womersley.  It is several days since I finished it, and an echo of the story haunts me still.

Bereft opens at the completion of WWI, with Australian soldier, 26 year old Quinn Walker returning to his home town of Flint in rural New South Wales.   Quinn, now a decorated soldier, has not set foot in Flint for ten years.  When Quinn was 16, his 12 year old sister Sarah was brutally murdered in the small town, and Quinn was accused of the crime.  The Spanish influenza epidemic is also reaping many victims in Australia at the time of Quinn's return, including his mother, who is dying.  Quinn is dazed and desperate after his unspeakable experiences in the trenches in Europe and the unresolved turmoil over his sisters death.  Quinn returns to Flint looking for answers.

This is an extraordinary novel that works on multiple levels.   It is about trauma and its aftermath.  The devastation caused by killing is explored on the individual level and also the level of the family and township.  The murder of Sarah Walker devastated Quinn and his entire family.  No one recovered.   Womersley also powerfully depicts the impact of trench warfare on the returning soldier, in this case Quinn.  His body and spirit are well and truly broken as he stumbles into town determined to try and make sense of things.

Womersley writing is faultless, direct and punchy.  At just 264 pages the novel struck me as a refreshing change from the "more is more" length of much modern fiction.

The atmosphere the author creates is spine tingling.  The hard, hot and remote Australian bush masterfully evokes a sense isolation and discomfort.  The story is engaging and creepy.  I am not in a book club, but I think Bereft would make the perfect selection for a discussion as it is not only a powerful story, but covers a range of themes that are difficult to tackle, and the ending is deliberately ambiguous.  An uncertain ending will not be everyone's idea of a good time, but I found it haunting and satisfying in this case.  I am thoroughly impressed by this original work, and might even have to read it again before too long.

True History of the Kelly Gang by Peter Carey

This is the most enjoyable reading experience I have had in many a month. I hardly expected to love this book, especially after reading Carey's Bliss last year which, while certainly an edifying experience, could hardly be described as a ripping good yarn.

True History of the Kelly Gang is a novel with it all: drama, pathos without sentimentality, fantastic descriptions of early Australian landscape and life, murder, love, loyalty and betrayal.

Edward (Ned) Kelly was an infamous Australian outlaw or bushranger.  He was hanged in Melbourne Gaol in 1880 at the age of 26, after being captured in a bloody shootout with the police at Glenrowan, a town in country Victoria.  Many of those gang members closest to Kelly perished at Glenrowan, including his young brother. 

The novel begins and ends with the scenes at Glenrowan.  In between Carey masterfully weaves a compelling story of poverty, prejudice, desperation and loyalty.  In truth, and I will just come out and say it, I never had must interest in, or sympathy for, Ned Kelly and his murderous exploits.  However I found this book hard to put down.  Carey tells the story of Ned Kelly's life from Ned's own perspective, as the eldest son in a large, poor Irish Australian family, Ned aged 10 steals and slaughters a calf so his starving family can eat.  Ned's father takes the blame for this crime and is sent to goal for several years.  On his release, Ned's father is barely recognisable and can no longer provide any support for his large family.  He dies shortly after.  Ned and his mother and are left to provide for the family. 

The story is full of wonderful characters.  Ned's mother Ellen Kelly looms large.  She is depicted as a tiny but fierce matriarch of this family.  Unfortunately her subsequent partners, after her husband's death, produce little except more children to feed.  The Kelly Gang itself is comprised of a mismatched bunch including Ned's younger brother Dan and other hard but loyal men.  Before the emergence of the Kelly Gang Ned is apprenticed out by his mother to known bushranger Harry Power.  Ned's time with Harry Power is a brutal but instructive time for the teenager, where he learns about loyalty, the power of  money and good horsemanship.

The novel can be enjoyed on many levels.  I can fully appreciate why it won the 2002 Booker Prize.  The characters are all fleshed out.  Carey builds a rich picture of  men and woman whose lives are moulded by struggle and oppression. Each of the gang members has their own story, from opium use to transvestism.  The harshness and brutality of life in early Australia for poor people is made very real in the novel. 

Carey certainly does not glamorise the Kelly Gang.  If anything he depicts Kelly as a moral, dignified but somewhat naive individual,who from an early age, was determined to protect those he loved.  As the novel reveals, he fails tragically.  I would highly recommend this one, it is a standout!

A Novel for Australia Day "Cloudstreet" by Tim Winton (audiobook) read by Peter Hosking

I finished listening to the audiobook of Cloudstreet on my walk this afternoon.  I am struggling to find enough superlatives to do my feelings for this story justice.  I have read three other books by Tim Winton and really enjoyed them all, especially "The Riders", which is one of my all time favourite novels.

Cloudstreet is such an Australian story if there is such a thing.  It covers twenty years in the lives of two families from Western Australia, the Lambs and the Pickles, from the mid 1940s to the mid 1960s.  The families, both looking for a better life, move from small towns in WA to Perth where Sam Pickle has inherited an enormous ramshackle house on Cloudstreet.  The Lambs become the Pickles live in tenants in the cavernous house. 

Two more different families would be hard to imagine. Sam and Dolly Pickle are both hapless dreamers.  Sam is a gambler and Dolly an alcoholic.  Their children for much of the time are left to raise themselves.  The Lambs are God fearing, very hard working folk.  Both families bring more than their fair share of tragedy and hardship to the house.

The children of Sam and Dolly Pickle and Oriel and Lester Lamb grow up in Cloudstreet.  They combat poverty, disability and their parents' demons to try and make their way in a country that is also finding its identity at the time.  Winton does a wonderful job of combining a clear sense of what is happening in Australia at the time socially, with the personal stories and struggles of his characters.

For me Tim Winton is that rare thing, an author who marries truly beautiful writing with exceptional plotting and character development.  He is my favourite Australian author.  It was an absolute treat to listen to this story.  And if any of you are wanting to read (or listen to) a superbly written novel that is distinctly Australian I don't think you could do better than Cloudstreet.  The word that comes to mind to describe Cloudstreet best is a word that I don't think I have used before in a post because it can sound so naff and nauseating.   Cloudstreet is genuinely heartwarming.  I have met these wonderful, ordinary characters and I feel uplifted and the richer for it.

Mini Review "Siren" by Tara Moss

Okay Tara Moss is a Canadian-Australian author and former model.  She writes thrillers featuring the very beautiful Makkede Vanderwall who is a Canadian-Australian former model, psychologist and private investigator.  I have read one other of this series "Split" several years ago.

The writing itself is good.  I mean this is not fancy literary fare by any means but Moss's style is clear, smooth and enjoyable to read.  The plot however is ridiculously over the top.  I know I know, what did I expect?  Well I guess I expected something a bit less far fetched.   But hey these Tara Moss books are big sellers and they are fun.

If you like your thrillers with a seriously kick-ass and gorgeous heroine, who can escape from all sorts of improbable scenarios; dark and dramatic settings such as the redlight district of  Paris; odd characters such as an incestuous cabaret troupe and a giant, disfigured,  tortured-soul  assassin who trails around after Mak for most of the book, then this one might be for you.

As a last word I couldn't help but compare Mak to one of my all time favourite literary characters, Sue Grafton's female PI Kinsey Millhone.  If you like the private investigator crime genre, you really must check out the Alphabet Series by Sue Grafton.

The Death of Bunny Munro by Nick Cave

The Death of Bunny Munro by Australian musician, songwriter, screenwriter and novelist Nick Cave is not for the faint hearted or the easily offended.  I have not included a picture of the unusual book cover because it is somewhat risque.  Have I piqued your interest yet?

The story is about Bunny Munro, a door to door salesman in Brighton England and an absolute womanising bastard.  I have to tell you Bunny is a very well drawn and memorable character.  Off the top of my head the only character I have read this year which was more memorable was Colm Toibin's portrayal of Henry James in "The Master".

Bunny's life is unravelling fast.  He is becoming unhinged.  His usual coping mechanisms aren't working anymore and after his wife commits suicide, largely caused by his own appalling behaviour, he is left to care for his young son, Bunny Junior.  The story is like watching a train wreck in slow motion, and is just about as exhausting.  Everything is catching up with him and he has no where to run.  The narrative is very well written.  The pace does not let up and only increases as Bunny's efforts to hold on become more and more frenzied.  There is a real masculine energy to the flow of the story that strikes me as unusual in literary fiction.  I think the tone of Patrick Suskind's Perfume comes close.  The story is visceral and tragic.  There is a scene towards the end of the book between the three generations of Munro males: Bunny, Bunny Junior and Bunny's decrepit and spiteful father.  It is about as tragic and poignant a scene as I can imagine and will stay with me for some time.

Another theme that is given full rein is guilt.  Earlier this year I read Bliss by  Australian author Peter Carey.  Bliss also focuses on the theme of male guilt but while Bliss starts with the train wreck and moves to some sort of redemption, the tale of Bunny spins from denial to ruin.  The story, which again will not be to everyone's taste, is masterfully put together.  There is not a wasted word.  It is darkly funny at times, and very human at others.  Ultimately for me The Death of Bunny Munro is a modern tragedy, and a very convincing one.  I found it fascinating.

"Bliss" by Peter Carey

Bliss is by Australian author Peter Carey and was first published in 1981.  I really had to wrestle with this book for about the first third of its length and I think it is pretty safe to say that if I was not blogging about books I would probably have abandoned all efforts to try and get through it.  I am very glad I persevered, if only for reasons of pride originally,  because this is a truly unique reading experience that will stay with me for some time.

The premise that begins the novel is simple enough.  Harry Joy, a successful advertising executive dies on his front lawn from heart failure.  Harry witnesses his own death and is brought back to life through medical intervention.  What unfolds is the truly strange journey of Harry trying to make sense of his life.

Bliss can be described as a modern fable.  The settings and characters in Bliss are painfully real.  But there is a surreal mythical cast to the whole narrative.  It is like we see much of what is happening through a fugue.  You can see the immediate action clearly enough but everything else is very blurred at the edges.  I found this unsettling.  The tone changes towards the end of the book and more depth is given to descriptions of place.  I am sure this is all very deliberate as Harry, after much torment, comes to find his own sense of place.

This is a difficult novel for many reasons.  One that stands out for me is that most of the characters, including Harry I found to be unlikeable and distasteful.  Again I am sure this is part of Carey's point.  After all, for most of the novel Harry believes he is in hell.  Harry's wife and children are awful.  I could go on and on about this but I won't.  Except to say that I ended up feeling that perhaps Bettina, Harry's desperate, frustrated and mercenary wife was not supposed to be interpreted as a real person after all.  Maybe she is meant to be seen as everything that is wrong with a society that is hell bent on a consumerism frenzy.  To this end I found it interesting to note that the novel was published in the early 1980s and perhaps Carey is predicting the greed fuelled financial crash of that decade.

One of the things that kept me going through this dark strange tale was Carey's seriously beautiful and accomplished writing,  For instance:

There was toughness in Harry Joy you may not have yet suspected, and although he appears, lying between the sheets of his hospital bed, surrounded by food and friends, to be mushy, soft, like a rotten branch you think you can crack with a soft tap of your axe, you will find, beneath that soft white rotted sapwood, something unexpected: a long pipe of hard redwood which will, after all, take a good saw and some sweat if you are going to burn it.  p36

And this insightful use of simile and metaphor just goes on and on throughout the book to breathtaking effect:

Yes he had been happy.  Of course he'd been happy.  But he had always been happy in the expectation that something else would happen, some wonderful unnamed thing which he was destined for, some quivering butterfly dream soaked in sunlight in a doorway.  p.45

I mean, who can write like that?  Isn't it to die for?

There are many elements to this story.  Too many to try and cover here.  It has the quality of a genuine adult fairy tale or fable.  I found combining the adult with the fairy tale style disturbing at times.  It is like a fairy tale because awful things happen suddenly, without preamble, as in children's fairy tales.  There are also strong strains of good, evil, and hoped for redemption, that feel like a moral story or fable.  Some of Carey's descriptions are not for the faint hearted.  I found myself a bit "grossed out" occasionally as he graphically depicts the more base side of some of his characters.  Again I am sure this is done deliberately to unsettle the reader.  It adds to the "hell" experience I am sure.

The appearance of the character of Honey Barbara does provide a needed lift to the story.  Honey is in many ways the antithesis of all that is wrong in Harry's sordid, soft and safe existence. 

I think that Carey is trying to say something profound with this novel about the struggle that plays out in all of us.  And not just inside us, but between our inner desires and the complexities of the competitive world we live in.  I feel that he largely succeeds with this.  However, for this reader, some of the elements were just a bit too stark and ghastly for me to want to fully embrace.  It is not the most enjoyable reading experience I have had recently but I would recommend it to those who are wanting to experience some excellent writing and perhaps be pushed a little outside of their usual zone of comfort.  Bliss,  Peter Carey's first novel, is an audacious and original piece of top quality literature.