A novelised account of Kate Grenville's grandmother's life. Born in the early 1880s in rural New South Wales, Sarah Catherine (Dolly) Maunder was never going to have many career options. In those days when women married, their fate depended on the quality of their husbands . Dolly wants to teach, one of the few pathways to independence for a woman, but her stern, cheerless father forbids it. Instead Dolly marries Bert Russell, a friend of the family from childhood. It's a loveless match, even though Bert is handsome and a decent enough chap. The couple have three children, but Dolly isn't really suited to motherhood. And she loathes farming. She spurs Bert to set up various businesses – shops and pubs – that turn into roaring successes. Despite Dolly having all the get-go to take risks and get ahead, being a woman means she has no money in her own name. Celebrated Australian author Kate Grenville has turned the life of her grandmother into a novelised account of what it is to be a woman in late 19th and early 20th century Australia. It's a tough life, with hard won successes and much heartbreak. A gritty portrait of early Australia, with subtly woven in feminist themes. Restless Dolly Maunder, by Kate Grenville. Published by Text. $45 Review by Chris Saliba A son turns his mother's migrant story into first class literary fiction. In the prelude to Peter Polites third novel, God Forgets About the Poor, a sassy, wise-cracking mother gives her adult son some tips on how to write her story. “You don't know the first thing about me,” she admonishes her gay son, warning him off entwining his personal story too much with hers. Through the course of the novel we learn about Honoured's (the mother's name) growing up on the Greek island of Lefkada. It's the post-war period, and Greece is in the midst of a civil war. Honoured and her sisters are peasants, and being girls, they're not prized. In fact, their very female existence is a source of shame. It was a boy, highly valued by agrarian Greek culture, that their parents really wanted. Honoured will eventually make her way to Sydney, Australia, marry and have two children. She carries with her the scars from a serious leg infection she contracted in Greece as a child, which left her hospitalised for a year. She remains ambivalent about her life, torn between two cultures, and is resigned, though not happy, about her second class status as a woman of migrant origin. An aura of dissatisfaction surrounds her. Polites could easily have fallen into the trap of writing a straight, fictionalised biography of his mother in this deeply resonant novel. Instead he's opted to write a long prose-poem, a rich and evocative portrait of peasant life in Greece during the post-war period and an homage to the migrant experience. There are profound layers of meaning to be gleaned from Polites' fine, textured prose as he explores identity, being, gender and one's place in the world. This is an absorbing, formally innovative book that demands careful reading and will most likely appeal to fans of Rachel Cusk and Deborah Levy. A triumph of skilled storytelling. God Forgets About the Poor, by Peter Polites. Published by Ultimo Press. $34.99 Review by Chris Saliba A luxury hotel becomes a place of menace and fear. A group of rich guests have booked places at the Termush hotel, a comfortable resort. The only difference is that they are not hoping to enjoy a relaxing holiday. They have reserved places in the hope of surviving a nuclear Armageddon. The story opens after the “disaster” has happened, with a brief description of what atmospheric changes a nuclear explosion can wreak. The hotel guests try to believe that life can return to some sort of normalcy – but everyone knows they are lying to themselves. The hotel's management endeavours to create a veneer of polite civilisation, but tough decisions are being made, primarily, whether survivors of the explosion that try to enter the hotel should be allowed in. Should there be a cap on how many survivors can be accommodated? Who gets to make these decisions? What are the ethical implications? Can there even be ethical questions in such an environment? A mounting tension builds as it becomes obvious that there are forces outside the hotel that want to break in. No matter how much the management tries to pretend that everything is under control, it's clear that the hotel provides a flimsy bulwark against the reality of the outside world. The guests' safe haven is crumbling before their eyes. Danish author Sven Holm published Termush in 1967, and it was translated into English in 1969 by Sylvia Clayton. It's a short, terse novel with clipped, pared back prose. Every character in the story remains unnamed, except for Maria, whose emotional outbursts are deemed the only rational response to the unfolding horror of the guests' situation. Termush brilliantly examines the psychology of survival at any cost, creating a novel of unremitting despair. Termush, by Sven Holm. Published by Faber $22.99. Review by Chris Saliba Blood was Tony Birch's debut novel, published in 2011 and shortlisted for the Miles Franklin award. It appears now as part of the University of Queensland's First Nations series. Thirteen-year-old Jesse and his younger sister, eight-year-old Rachel live an itinerant life with their mother, Gwen. Gwen is a terrible mother- there's no other way to put it. She's banned Jesse and Rachel from calling her “Mum” - a word she can't stand. She has no money, lives on the occasional job and a bit of drug running. Her boyfriends are generally pretty bad – ex convicts and worse. Things get so dire at one stage that she dumps Jesse and Rachel with her father, an ex-alcoholic who has found the Bible. The children like their grandfather and wish they could stay with him. He has his rules, but also provides stability and regular meals. They are soon disappointed when Gwen turns up again, with a new boyfriend, the borderline psychopath Ray Crow. Gwen takes Jesse and Rachel from Melbourne to Adelaide, with the creepy Ray in tow. They meet up with Ray's mate, the equally scary "Limbo", so named because his criminal court cases were always in limbo. When Jesse finds a stash of cash and a gun, he knows the two men are up to something dangerous and illegal. The children decide to make a run for it and try to make it back to their grandfather in Melbourne. Tony Birch's sparse, clipped prose (think James M. Cain and Cormac McCarthy) is a page-turning delight. Instantly the reader is hooked on this nail biting story as Jesse and Rachel live by their wits, trying to evade Ray and Limbo who are out looking for them with evil intent. The scenes and situations seem so real that you feel certain the book is some thinly disguised autobiography. The descriptions of outback roads, greasy diners and dingy suburban shopping malls are all easily recognisable, giving the book an attractive realism. A First Nations perspective is added by the fact that Jesse's father is Indigenous (his sister, Rachel, was fathered by a white man). Jesse is yet to fully realise his heritage, but witnesses the racism of white people around him. A brief encounter with an otherworldly Indigenous man, Magic, opens his eyes to other life possibilities – of identity and destiny. An edge-of-your seat story told with consummate skill. Blood, by Tony Birch. Published by University of Queensland Press. $19.99 Review by Chris Saliba Two unhappy wives lease an exotic Italian castle for the month of April, with happy results. Mrs Lotty Wilkins is stuck in a rut, dissatisfied with her marriage to Mellersh, a narrow minded solicitor only interested in money. When she runs into Rose Arbuthnot at her ladies' club, she notices she is reading an advertisement for a place to be let, an exotic castle in rural Italy. The furnished castle is on offer for the month of April, its owner the Englishman Thomas Briggs. The two ladies, who are shy of each other, boldly decide to lease the castle and leave their husbands behind (the devout Mrs Arbuthnot is married to Frederick, who to her displeasure writes racey biographies for quick bucks.) They both feel they need a break from their emotionally exhausting work as devoted wives. To minimise expenses, the women decide to advertise for two more ladies to join their group. Lady Caroline, a twenty-eight year old heiress with zero interest in men, or anything in particular, signs on for the April holiday. And lastly there is Mrs Fisher, an older, imperious woman, whose claim to fame is a long list of important literary connections. Upon arrival, all goes to plan. Lotty and Rose find themselves transformed, just as they'd wished, by the beauty of the castle, with its fragrant gardens and sensuously warm weather. The disinterested Lady Caroline mostly keeps to herself, observing the company from afar and making ironic observations. Mrs Fisher remains a hard nut to crack, reserved and difficult, until nearing the end of her stay when events cause her to drop her stony exterior. British writer Elizabeth von Arnim (she was born in Sydney, Australia, moving to England aged three) wrote The Enchanted April (1922) while staying at Castello Brown, a medieval castle located in northern Italy. The book is rich with atmospheric descriptions, of flowers in bloom and delicious, balmy warm weather. Indeed, the castle works like a spell – on the women and reader alike. One longs to stay at the castle, to be also transformed, and feels envious of von Arnim's characters. Despite the text's light, hazy, hallucinatory quality, The Enchanted April is essentially a comedy. It pokes gentle fun at the unfulfilled women, Rose and Lotty, who are divorced from reality, but also gives them a sort of feminist triumph as they manage to subordinate their husbands to their wishes. The impenetrable Lady Caroline and Mrs Fisher, who seem determined to remain unaffected by their surroundings, eventually succumb to the castle's magic too. If there's a writer that comes close to being Jane Austen “light” it's von Arnim. She creates a hypnotically feminine place in the castle and traps everyone within it, passing gentle commentary on her characters with a light, yet sly humour. And like all Jane Austen novels, it ends with happy romantic couplings. A strange yet satisfying mix of comedy and escapism. The Enchanted April, by Elizabeth von Arnim. Published by Penguin. $22.99 Review by Chris Saliba A sensitive story about two damaged souls. A woman has become mute after a series of traumatic personal events. Her mother has recently died, and she has lost a custody battle for her son. The woman (who remains unnamed) takes up a course in classical Greek, exploring how language is used in philosophical works by Plato and Socrates. The Greek teacher (also unnamed) is experiencing trauma of his own. He is slowly losing his sight and is sure to go blind. In a series of flashbacks, he ruminates on past relationships, especially one with an ill woman with whom he has become seriously involved. As the Greek lessons progress, the teacher wonders about his silent student, until an accident in a stairwell brings them together. Han Kang is a South Korean writer, best known to English readers for her 2016 Man Booker International Prize winning novel, The Vegetarian. Greek Lessons (translated by Deborah Smith and Emily Yae Won) is a 2011 novel by Hang, appearing for the first time in English. It is a compelling story, written in a subtle and introspective voice, examining love, death and trauma. An unforgettable novel that is both melancholic and poetic, one that is rewarded by close reading. Greek Lessons, by Han Kang. Published by Hamish Hamilton. $35 Review by Chris Saliba Nineteen intricate and nuanced stories about the experiences of First Nations Australians. Western Australian writer Archie Weller has published novels, poetry and short stories. His novel The Day of the Dog was made into the film Blackfellas. His 2009 short story collection, The Window Seat, is here republished as part of the First Nations Classics series. Weller is a versatile writer and the 19 stories presented here cover many styles and genres, from mystery and crime to dystopian, futuristic themes. For the most part, Weller's fiction examines the difficulties of growing up mixed-race and Aboriginal: the prejudice, low expectations and bullying by police. There are also stories that explore Indigenous culture and spirituality. While Weller often describes the brutal facts of life for First Nations people – violence, stints in jail, wrongful arrest, racism – his evocations of land, wildlife and country are beautiful and ornate. Weller also has a good ear for dialogue which brings his characters vividly to life. These are stories firmly rooted in personal experience, providing a unique perspective on Australian life. A special mention must go to the collection's title story "The Window Seat", which rivals Guy de Maupassant's "Boule de Suif" for its brilliance at exposing hypocrisy and moral vacuity. An elderly Aboriginal woman is taking a final bus ride home, but the white man who must sit next to her is full of resentment and racist thoughts. When he later discovers something about the woman, his smug moral universe is turned upside down. A fine collection that explores a side of Australia rarely seen. The Window Seat, by Archie Weller. Published by Queensland University Press. $19.99 Released May 30, 2023 A famous pianist travels Europe and finds herself drawn to memories of her troubled and confused childhood. Elsa M. Anderson is a gifted classical pianist, trained by her mentor / father figure Arthur Goldstein. An orphan, she never knew her parents, and was taken into foster care. At the age of six she was discovered by Goldstein, who adopted the girl. The two have an unusual relationship – musically close, but emotionally ambivalent. Elsa can't quite figure out if Arthur is really a father to her. When he becomes ill, she has feelings of guilt for neglecting him. When in an Athens flea market, Elsa is drawn to a woman buying two mechanical horses. Pull the tail up and it sets the horse in motion, pull down and it stops. Elsa becomes obsessed with the woman, and when the stranger drops her hat – a stylish fedora – she picks it up and starts wearing it. As Elsa travels across Europe – England, France, Sardinia, Greece – and meets up with friends and lovers, the mysterious woman keeps appearing. More than that, the woman has entered Elsa's head, conducting short, clipped conversations with her, questions really, about her identity, her essence as a human being. While Elsa entertains this alien consciousness, memories and surreal images from her childhood keep coming back. She especially recalls an image of two horses dragging a piano to her across a paddock, the piano representing her mother. Strange images, evocative descriptions and uncanny happenings fill this engagingly surreal novel. Levy is a master storyteller, seducing the reader with her simple, sometimes droll language. There's humour to balance out the book's essential mystery, its brooding questions about identity and our place in the world. Deborah Levy is also a poet and playwright, and these linguistic qualities come out in the text. She has the ability to create a special language all of her own, to command the reader's attention and trust in her unique style of storytelling. A wonderfully absorbing, dream-like book that will leave you stunned yet satisfied. August Blue, by Deborah Levy. Published by Hamish Hamilton. $35 Published 9th May Review by Chris Saliba Two teenage girls type up lurid transcripts for Andy Warhol during the 1960s, and are transformed in the process Seventeen-year-old Mae likes to ride the escalators in New York's department stores, especially Macy's. Life's possibilities seem to open up for her there. She feels less alone and more connected to the world. It's riding the escalators she meets Daniel, almost a male ingenue version of herself, which soon turns into an unsatisfactory one night stand. The morning after, she falls into a discussion with Daniel's mother, who suggests she see a doctor. At the doctor's appointment, things take an unusual turn when she gets a job referral, typing, as it turns out, at Andy Warhol's factory. It's 1966. Mae feels she has an awkward personality and decides to drop out of school. Her home life is seedy and alienating, living with an alcoholic mother and Mikey, her mother's on-again, off-again boyfriend. At Warhol's factory she meets Shelley, a girl of similar age and background. The two are charged with typing up tape recordings of conversations between Ondine, a self-dramatising Factory habitue and “Drella”, Warhol's nickname (a mixture of Cinderella and Dracula). These conversations, along with contributions from other Factory “superstars”, will form a novel called "a". Mae and Shelley soon get caught up in the Factory lifestyle – parties and performances – until it all gets a bit jaded. Too much experience turns excitement and novelty into nausea. Their deep involvement with the tapes – listening to hours of the mad ravings of Ondine – makes them feel that they are indeed the true authors of "a". What a shock then to see it published without their name on it. Nothing Special is the debut novel from Irish writer Nicole Flattery, following on from her short story collection, Give Them What They Want. It's a strange yet absorbing book, written in an unsettling yet unique authorial voice. Mae's world is full of dinginess, morally limited behaviour, low expectations, bad sex and petty rivalry. She and her friend Shelly feel trapped in an existential funk – think Kafka in New York, stuck in a maze of frustrating dead ends. Or the damned souls of Sarte's No Exit, locked in a drab room for all eternity. Nor do they have a road map to get out – there are no ideas about education, marriage or career that might shine a light to salvation. They are imprisoned in an uninspiring eternal present. The ironic, almost nihilistic tone of Nothing Special feels like it was almost written by Warhol himself. The clipped, detached dialogue echoes Warhol's laconic wit and love of the banal, exhibited in his best book, From A to Be and Back Again: The Philosophy of Andy Warhol. A strikingly original novel examining the limits of experience, perhaps an acquired taste for some, but an author to watch nonetheless. Nothing Special, by Nicole Flattery. Published by Bloomsbury. $29.99 Review by Chris Saliba Laughs abound in this witty new satire from Robert Gott. Gregory Buchanan is a state politician and minister with a healthy dose of self-regard. A blithe spirit, he commissions career artist Sophie White to capture his portrait. The sitting takes an unusual turn when Gregory decides to pose nude. He unveils the painting, executed in photo realist style, in his dining room. His wife, Phoebe, is gobsmacked. The painting has to go – otherwise his career will be destroyed. But Gregory has other ideas: he wants to submit it for the Archibald Prize. The plot thickens when a host of friends and colleagues turn up and inadvertently see the portrait. There is Gregory's gin-swilling mother, Margaret, his fundamentalist Christian mother-in-law, Joyce, and lycra-wearing lesbian sister, Sally. Half way through the novel, a surprise visit is made by the state premier, Louisa Wetherly. This mix of forceful females ensures that a stand off is inevitable, but who will win? Blackmail, threats, theft and heated arguments over Christian theology ensue. Most of Naked Ambition takes place in Gregory and Phoebe's living room and reads somewhat like a closed circle mystery. When a theft occurs, only the people present are suspects. Most of the story is dialogue driven, giving it a campy, stagey feel, with characters often facing off against one another. Witty and full of laughs, readers looking for an offbeat entertainment will find it here. Naked Ambition, by Robert Gott. Published by Scribe. $29.99 This review first published at Books + Publishing. Review by Chris Saliba |
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