 Peril for Penelope the Pug when she gets lost in Puggleton Park. Can she find her way home again?
“It’s a truth everyone knows that all dogs need a forever home,” opens Puggleton Park, the first in a series of Regency-era chapter books for emerging readers. Poor Penelope the Pug has found herself lost in Puggleton Park. Whilst relaxing with her Lady, she eyed a dreadful squirrel and decided to chase it. Bad move. Now she finds herself a stray. All is not lost, however. Good fortune manifests in the person of the kindly Lady Diggleton, who takes it upon herself to find Penelope’s Lady. This turns out to be no easy task, further complicated by Lady Diggleton’s friend Lady Picklebottom, who finds stray dogs quite horrid and wants Penelope sent away. Can Penelope be reunited with her Lady and live happily ever after? Deanna Kizis (with delightful illustrations by Hannah Peck) has written a fun and often funny take on the Jane Austen classics. The story is full of society balls, high teas and proper decorum (Penelope is put through her paces by the fastidious dog trainer Mr Weeby), ending with a surprise disclosure by the dowager Lady Foxwise. A spirited and amusing frolic that doesn’t disappoint. Readers 7-10 years Puggleton Park, by Deanna Kizis. Published by Penguin. $11.99 Review by Chris Saliba  How an illegal government program slowly unravelled.
Robodebt was a harebrained scheme hatched by a group of public servants hoping to make happy their political masters. Welfare recipients have never been popular with the electorate, easily demonised, and so here was some low hanging fruit. The scheme, as imagined, would reap a whirlwind of budget savings by recouping badly guesstimated debts from those unlucky enough to receive a letter. The problem was it was illegal from the get-go, and blind Freddy could have told you so. Debts were worked out with a fundamentally incorrect model, by trying to squeeze the square of tax office data into the circle of the fortnightly centrelink payment system. Rick Morton tells the sorry story of senior public servants watering down or hiding legal advice and their political masters who didn’t want to ask too many questions, preferring to pursue a tough on welfare cheats rhetoric. Mean Streak provides a valuable document of how disastrous public policy is made, with a jaw dropping cast of bunglers, sycophants, careerists and cowards. It was only for the heroic acts of a few who took the Commonwealth to court that the system collapsed. A cautionary tale of government overreach. Mean Streak: A Moral Vacuum, a Dodgy Debt Generator and a Multi-billion Dollar Government Shake Down, by Rick Morton. Published by Fourth Estate. $35.99 Review by Chris Saliba  A collection of interwoven stories describes the Palestinian-American experience in humbling detail.
Susan Muaddi Darraj is a Palestinian-American writer and professor of English Literature. Her novel, Behind You is the Sea, began life as a series of previously published short stories. She has here expanded that into a full length work. The novel follows the interconnected fortunes of three Palestinian-American families, the Baladis, the Salamehs, and the Ammars. One of the main themes is the intergenerational difficulties caused by trying to integrate into American society. Parents cling to the old ways, and are often haunted by traumas from the past, while the younger generation are stuck in between, wholly at home in American society, but trying to honor and understand their parents history and culture. Sometimes this leads to outright conflict, when marriages are disapproved of, or Palestinian-Americans find themselves misrepresented or misunderstood by their fellow citizens. There’s also a strong focus on the experiences of women, who are often asked to conform to unrealistic cultural expectations. Behind You is the Sea doesn’t work as a plotted story, but rather follows a broad cast, young, old and in between, in a series of connected short stories. While there are many characters to keep up with, the book is easy to follow, with compelling individual storylines. What do we learn? That many families - no matter the religious or cultural background - are basically pretty similar, experiencing the same struggles. We also learn of more particular challenges, for example when a son takes his father back to Palestine to be buried, only to be put through insensitive bureaucratic red tape by the occupying authorities. An absorbing look into the struggles and complicated family dynamics of the Palestinian diaspora. Behind You Is The Sea, by Susan Muaddi Darraj. Published by Swift Press. $32.99 Review by Chris Saliba  Two brothers must confront their troubled past when their father dies.
Peter and Ivan are two brothers. Ivan is in his early twenties, a chess ace who is still coming out of his adolescence. Peter is the older brother by a decade. He works as a lawyer and has a complicated love life with two women. Recently the brothers' father has died from cancer, and unresolved emotional conflicts are still bubbling below the surface. When competing in a chess tournament, younger brother Ivan meets a woman fourteen years his senior. The two tentatively embark on an affair, weary of how friends and family will take their budding romance. When Peter does find out, he is immediately critical and dismissive, infuriating Ivan. Soon their hidden grievances and long simmering animosities burst out into the open. Can the steadying influence of the women in their lives heal these deep wounds and create harmony? Acclaimed and best-selling author Sally Rooney does it again with a compelling page turner that anatomises a close but fraught relationship between two brothers. The novel is drenched in detail, fleshing out character and place. While the story is as slow moving and introspective as a Bergman film, it has an uncannily addictive quality. It is probably the unflinching intimacy and vulnerability exhibited in Intermezzo that makes it so appealing. Sally Rooney fans will no doubt flock to Intermezzo, which heralds a more mature phase in her writing. New fans are sure to get on board too. Intermezzo, by Sally Rooney. Published by Faber. $34.99 Review by Chris Saliba  A bumper book of witty and entertaining stories for adults from the famous children’s author.
A.A. Milne (1882 - 1956) is best known for his children’s books Winnie-the-Pooh and The House at Pooh Corner. The success of these books and poetry collections such as Now We Are Six greatly overshadowed his other literary work. He was a writer who worked in many genres: adult fiction, non-fiction, journalism, memoir, poetry, plays and screenplays. Farrago books has issued a first complete collection of A.A. Milne’s short stories, with the inclusion of a few that have never been published before. The stories cover the period from 1918-1958, with most written between 1948-1950. The stories cover a wide variety of styles, with a constant theme being Milne’s playful, vivacious sense of humour. They are frothy and fun, often very inventive, much in line with other contemporaries such as P.G. Wodehouse and Nancy Mitford. While there is a lightness of touch, and an almost frivolous attitude, Milne’s shorter fiction is brilliantly organised, with many pleasingly unexpected twists and turns. For the most part, the stories deal with middle class relationships, men and women, desire and domesticity, in post war Britain. A favorite story details the comic drama caused when a difficult friend asks for a book that he has lent to a couple be returned. The couple don’t know what they’ve done with the book, and while they continue to get passive-aggressive letters from the disgruntled friend, they bide their time until they can buy a new copy and pass it off as the original. Another story, highlighting Milne’s playfulness, is set in the Biblical time of Noah and spoofs his family organising an ark to save themselves, while musing what they should tell the neighbors. Milne also had a great fondness for detective fiction, and several murder mysteries are included in this collection. The author of Winnie-the-Pooh will no doubt never shake off his reputation as a children’s author. Intrepid readers who can look past the famous bear will find much to delight and amuse in this little known collection. The Complete Stories of A.A. Milne, by A.A. Milne. Published by Farrago. $26.99 Review by Chris Saliba  Acclaimed author and journalist Stan Grant writes very personally about faith and Aboriginality.
After decades spent roaming the globe as a journalist, covering wars and disasters, Wiradjuri man Stan Grant has turned his back on politics and media to search for peace through faith. Murriyang (meaning “Skyworld” - home of the creator spirit, Baiyaame, or God) fuses Christianity with Indigenous beliefs. In Grant’s telling, Baiyaame-God existed before, or outside, the power structure that is the Christian Church. Indigenous people have always known God. “When I hear stories of Jesus, I hear our story. Jesus was a dark-skinned man in a land of empires - oppressed and colonised: a tribal man. I hear the story of someone speaking back to power. I hear the words of an ancestor.” There is a rather Hamlet-esque tone to Murriyang - Grant sounds world weary. Sick of politics, sick of the media. And like Hamlet, sick of words: “I am tired of words of certainty, tired of polled words, words with dollar signs in front of them, funded words. Reconciliation is not a word. Not anymore…What once were words are now antiseptic.” While Murriyang is a book that seeks personal peace and emancipation from perpetual turmoil by aligning oneself with the universe and Baiyaame-God, the polemics of Grant’s previous books still come through. There is an underlying tone of anger with the world, with the injustices done to Australia’s First Nations. The book is hence a bit of a mix, travelling from rage to spiritual transformation. It feels like Grant has one leg stepping towards the light, with one leg still left behind in the gross material world of petty politics and naked self-interest. He most definitely wants out. Interspersed among all of these philosophical and spiritual ruminations, are chapters titled “Babiin” (father), devoted to Grant’s ailing father, Stan Grant Sr. These are touching sketches of his father’s life and struggles, his wisdom and generosity of spirit. Murriyang will appeal to the religious and non-religious alike. It is sometimes a bitter book, but overwhelmingly it fulfills its brief of guiding the reader to a place of oneness and forgiveness. Stan Grant is one of the nation’s best writers, tackling a difficult subject with maturity and erudition. Murriyang: Song of Time, by Stan Grant. Published by S & S Bundyi. $39.99 Review by Chris Saliba  A woman sinks into a pool on a warm Autumn day, and refuses to get out.
It’s an unseasonably warm day in November, 1957. Kathleen Beckett, who lives with her husband Virgil and two sons in Newark, Delaware, decides to take a dip in the pool at her apartment block. It’s a slightly odd residence for a young family, as the Acropolis Place is filled with retirees. The apartments overlook the pool and resident busy bodies and curtain twitchers keep a vigilant eye on Kathleen, whose behaviour is considered odd. No one ever uses the pool, and besides it’s November, not exactly the warmest month of the year. When her husband finds her in the pool he becomes alarmed and tries to coax her out. But she insists she’s fine; actually, she’s never felt better. As Virgil returns again and again to the pool, and the day progresses, the reader is given the backstories for both husband and wife. Kathleen had been a tennis ace in her youth and had enjoyed a romantic affair with Billy Blasko, a Jewish refugee from Czechoslovakia. The relationship is not only sensual and heartfelt; Billy gives Kathleen intellectual books which she attempts to read. Virgil, on the other hand, is pretty much a failed insurance broker who is trying to escape his boozy past. As the day comes to an end, with Kathleen’s soaking in by now cold water, the couple must decide if they can survive their secret pasts and come together as a couple. The Most reads very much like classic 1950’s American fiction - think Richard Yates (Revolutionary Road), John Cheever (recall his famous short story “The Swimmer”) and Sylvia Plath. Jessica Anthony uses a similar technique to Plath’s Bell Jar in creating an atmosphere of looming dread in the recurring descriptions of the Sputnik 2, launched on the day the story takes place, and harboring the Soviet dog Laika that everyone knew was sure to die in space. (Plath opens The Bell Jar with her famous description of the execution of the Rosenbergs). There are also subtle touches of humour in the character of Colson (“Coke”), Virgil’s father, easily an escapee from a Cormac McCarthy novel and a portrait of over-the-top American masculinity. Highly enjoyable. A crisply written portrait of American life, one that seems perfect and sunny on the surface, but that harbors darkness and sadness underneath. The Most, by Jessica Anthony. Published by Doubleday. $29.99 Review by Chris Saliba  Two sisters negotiate men, relationships, sex and family in this compelling novella by Tessa Hadley.
It’s post-war Britain. The urban landscape is dreary and battered. Two sisters, dressed up despite the economic privations all around them, are on their way to a pub to meet friends and enjoy a rowdy night. Evelyn, the younger sister, is studying French. She’s unsure of herself, and looks up to her outre older sister, Moira, who is a fashion student. Both women flirt with the young men, sizing them up as potential love interests, only to find many of them wanting, and the decent guys unattractive anyway. The sisters still live with their parents, and younger brother Ned, in a bleak working class house. Theirs is not a happy family. Ned makes explosives as a hobby, and their father is carrying on an affair. It’s a constant battle to keep fights and simmering animosities at bay. One night soon after the party at the pub, Moira takes her sister to a house in another part of London. It’s a big, once grand house, now fallen into disrepair. They meet a group of Moira’s friends and start drinking. An atmosphere of boredom and futility predominates.The men at the house are not great catches, some decidedly sickly, and lurking at the bottom of this barrel is Sinden, a creepy young man with designs on both the sisters. The Party is a stark portrait of young women’s lives in what feels like 1950s Britain (there are references in the novella to the Malayan Emergency, a guerilla war fought between 1948-1960). Evelyn and Moira are just starting their adulthood, studying with a clear hope of improving their lives (they dress with exuberant confidence in tight clothing), yet are surrounded by a culture not yet ready to offer women emancipation from subservient roles. With their mother as an example, the reader feels that Evelyn and Moira are destined to get dudded by life, ending up as downtrodden wives. Yet there is a glimmer of hope for them at the end, as bad sexual experiences unite both women in a more clear eyed view of the world. Grim, gritty and realistic, readers of Claire Keegan will enjoy this accomplished novella. The Party, by Tessa Hadley. Published by Jonathan Cape. $29.99 Review by Chris Saliba  A wild dog tells his story
On a small island park live a community of animals - gulls, squirrels, pelicans and racoons. They all co-exist on mostly friendly terms. A group of bison, which are fenced off in an enclosed area, are the mysterious keepers of what is known as “the Equilibrium”. A prominent figure in this collective is Johannes, a wild, free dog who is also regarded as “the eyes” of the park, a quick footed animal that can roam and report back on anything unsettling or out of the ordinary. One thing Johannes notices is the creation of an art gallery. Seeing a procession of odd paintings being carried in, he is often mesmerised by their strange shapes and beautiful colors. These aesthetic distractions sometimes get Johannes into trouble. A revelation occurs when Johannes comes across a field of goats, munching away on anything and everything. He has never met this type of animal before, and when he questions them, he discovers that they are from the mainland, having arrived by ship. He strikes up a friendship with one of the goats, Helene, and a plot is hatched to free the bison and secretly harbor them on the ship, thereby making it to an almost promised land where everything is bigger and better. Dave Eggers has written an engaging story with wonderfully fleshed out characters. The small world of the little island is vividly imagined, with each animal performing various functions that show their ingenuity and ability to work together. The story has adventure (Johannes is kidnapped at one stage), friendship and humour. Helene the goat, who worries about her personal appearance, is often quite amusing. Overall, The Eyes and the Impossible, like all good children’s fiction, has that uncanny ability to create a fully fleshed and believable world, with characters you feel like you know. A highly enjoyable and absorbing story that is a pleasure to read. For readers 8 - 12 years. The Eyes and the Impossible, by Dave Eggers. Published by Anderson Press. $19.99 Review by Chris Saliba  When a woman finds a kitten, it begins the start of an enduring friendship.
Mayumi Inaba (1950-2014) was a Japanese poet and writer of fiction. Her 1999 fictionalised memoir, Mornings With My Cat Mii, describes her twenty-year relationship with her cat, Mii. She found the cat - then a kitten - stuck in a fence. The year was 1977, and Mayumi Inaba was living in a rental property with her husband. The house she leased had plenty of access to garden spaces, and little Mii would roam and return with her paws dirty, leaving traces on the floor. While her marriage was not entirely loveless, nor was it overwhelmingly passionate and Inaba and her husband found themselves growing apart. A split was made easier by the fact that her husband was more often than not working away from home. The couple seperated and Inaba bought a small fifth floor apartment. This meant that Mii would have to adapt to having no green spaces to play in. Life continued on, with Mii finding new places to play and even making friends with the neighbours. Inevitably, Mii grew old and became sick. A long final portion of the book describes in harrowing detail Mii’s last years, spent mostly incontinent and in need of devoted care. Mornings With My Cat Mii, long hailed a Japanese classic, now appears in English for the first time, translated by Ginny Tapley Takemori. It’s a sensitive and melancholic story about a single woman living alone, trying to connect to the world around her, and finding solace and emotional anchoring with her pet cat. The book is unusual in how it confronts the death of a pet in such an unsparing manner. The lengths that Inaba goes to looking after Mii (constant cleaning and putting up with bad odours) highlights the powerful emotional connection many people have with their pets. An intimate portrait of grief and solitariness. Mornings With My Cat Mii, by Mayumi Inaba. Published by Harvill/Secker. $32.99 Review by Chris Saliba |
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