This is really a reminder of the 2022 schedule and first set of books for next year - but enjoy the action too
9 March 2022 at Barb's place. Books are
11 May 2022: Mog and Cherrie
13 July 2022: Megan and Kathy
14 September 2022: Margie and McLassie
9 November 2022: Julie and Sue
First named is the host unless there is a switcheroo in the meantime.
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| Table trier |
Mystery bounded out to greet everyone and continued to make merry mischief throughout the afternoon. We were intrigued and amused by Cherrie's story about 'clackers', steam boats and holely jackets as we sat down to lunch of Spanikopita and salad. (And for those interested here is the link to the recipe - https://www.goodfood.com.au/recipes/haloumi-spanakopita-20210601-h1w7mq).
After the Spanikopita went down Julie introduced her choice, 'Lapsed' by Monica Dux - a reverie of Monica's take on Catholicism, and how and why Dux now 'blows raspberries' at the church. And its at this point that your correspondent confesses her mind wasn't focussed enough on the task at hand - any mental acuity was sadly directed to the lunch table rather than the main book game. But here goes with a quick summary of the chatter.
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| Moggies natives |
It all starts with baptism - and once that's done, there is no escaping the Catholics - no matter what spiritual revelations you have during your lifetime. In short, you're hooked, and you're part of the 'cult' - like it or not. There were various personal reflections on dancing with religion during our youth around the table - some humorous and some lifechanging - which added to the way we each read the book and to discussion.
Some of us took the view that the book was cathartic and centred around Monica's view de monde - because in a way it was her autobiography coupled with her interaction with the Catholic church. From this perspective it would have been good for the book to have a broader discussion on religion and bring in other viewpoints - and yet we all agreed there was revelation for most of us within the pages of the book. From an editorial point of view, the other main point of discussion was around how the book could have benefited from more use of the red marker pen - most thought the first third and last section of the book well worth reading, but the middle bit not so much.
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| Sue's home bunch |
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| Cherrie's sweet peas |
While she found Mass "crushingly boring" for a time she regarded not being Catholic as "an abnormality that some people were burdened with, not to mention a terrible danger to their immortal souls". By the time she reached University things had changed. Dux had facial piercings, rode a motorbike and had a 'sinful sexual life'. today, Dux says she blows 'figurative raspberries at the Church'.
Her latest dilemma has settled in the form of her 6 year old daughter, who despite growing up in a secular household, comes home one day and announces that she wants to be a Catholic, and is desperate to be baptised. Despite the devastating conundrum she finds herself confronting Dux admits there remain residual forces of the lived-in stories that accompanied her through her own childhood. 'The Jesus spells continue to have a kind of power over me" she explains. "The story of Christ can still move me in a way that defies the cynical atheism I claim to embrace". The wondrous and devoted good Catholic girl has morphed into an adult cynical atheist, yet she remains appreciative of what her religion gave her as a child - "tremendous certainty and reassurance....the sense of order, of community and comfort".
In Lapsed Dux explores the various forms of modern day Catholic bigotry that have plagued her own family and community, weaving in a deft survey of Catholic theology, 'cultic segregation' and the day to day impact of sectarianism. Dux scrutinises the vast wave of interpretations of Catholic morality with a tone of clarity and humour - "Everyone is seeking truth and goodness and beauty, each in their own way".
Dux shows compassion, curiosity and care towards the religion that had shaped her youth. Watching her extend those qualities towards those closest to her felt like a mini-revelation on why writers write.
"Jesus is a f...wit" says her six year old daughter towards the end of the book. "He was a boy and all boys are idiots" she concluded - and that was the end of her Catholic odyssey.
I found the book a challenge to the Catholic Church. It was a humourous lookat the ruituals, magical thinking of saints - but a challenge to the horrific legacy questions surrounding abuse. Dux conceded that Baptism counts you 'in', so there is no getting completely away. Many still participate but don't believe. The rituals and moral upbringing from childhood are never quite expnunged and leave an indelible mark on lapsed or non-lapsed Catholics. While in other forms of Christian belief, the rituals are not as robust or magnified. Dux concludes there are 2 groups - the Team Homonious - the old group - and Team Authentic - new group. But there is no doubting once a Catholic, always a Catholic.
After some deep breaths and dessert, we moved on to Klara and the Sun, by Kazuo Ishiguro. It was full tilt charge into discussion about the book which was narrated by Klara, the Artificial Friend (AF) of Josie. There was broad consensus that Klara was an engaging narrator - simple, naive and dignified - always wanting to understand the humans in her 'life', while observing everything through 'grids'. Looking for the positive was Klara's MO - and we reflected on her trip through the field with Rick's help to the shed; her obsession with how the Sun was going to save Josie, and how she was going to save everyone from the pollution caused by the Cootings' machine. Relentless was a word thrown around about the writing - there was restraint as it unpretentiously moved onwards, keeping us in suspense in a disquieting kind of way. As we discussed the various characters and the storyline (Josie's 'illness' from being 'lifted', her departed sister, and her mother's 'fix' through the portrait/Klara,) we reflected on the depth of the themes in the book -
And finally we talked about 2022 and decided to set the second Wednesday of alternate months, so based on the order last year, it looks like this (first name is host unless everything changes or I've got something wrong).
9 March 2022 at Barb's place. Books are
11 May 2022: Mog and Cherrie
13 July 2022: Megan and Kathy
14 September 2022: Margie and McLassie
9 November 2022: Julie and Sue
Happy reading - and if you're interested the Australia Reads National Reading Survey report has just come out:
75 per cent of us have read at least one book in the past 18 months or so. According to the report, the pandemic didn’t have a great impact on reading habits. A tad more than 50 per cent of respondents said they were reading the same amount and buying the same number of books as before it emerged, which is interesting because last year, according to NielsenBookScan, which collects data from booksellers around the country, sales of books in Australia increased by 9 per cent compared with 2019, giving a revenue boost of 8 per cent. About 66 million books were sold with a total value of $1.2 billion.
Not surprisingly there was a slight increase in buying online, according to the Australia Reads survey, as bookshops were closed to physical shoppers at times throughout the period and many consequently cranked up their online operations.
So, what are we reading? Well, 68 per cent of us like to read Australian authors, and 35 per cent also like to read the classics. More than half of us wish for more reading time
Mystery and Banjo were happily pulling apart Port Elliot as we all gathered at McLassie’s place for our September meeting. Barb was an apology and we all wait to hear that her airsacs are filling up regularly again (a pox on pollen we all thought). After avoiding her classy new paintwork, McLassie settled us down around 7.15 and then led us down the historical pathway from all parts of the globe to the Eureka Stockade in 1854 with her choice ‘The Forgotten Rebels of Eureka’.
Her overview covered author Claire Wright’s background, the research needed to pull together the book (one of a trilogy), and McLassie’s decision to choose the book. Her own reflection on her choice was in the end ambiguous – important to read but more of a textbook than a great read.
We all agreed that the reason for McLassie’s choice was well grounded - inspired by the torchlights shining on gender equality in recent months and years (especially in Australian politics but elsewhere as well). The book told many stories about disenfranchised people from many places, making perilous sea journeys, then walking to the goldfields to try and find a life worth living. It was a book about immigration, hardship, suffering, making do, and rebelling against authority – and especially about the heroic women who have been hidden in historical accounts of the Eureka Stockade. Wright drew parallels with women becoming politically mobilised elsewhere around the time (French Revolution and later, Britain, Europe), and argued that the legend of the Eureka Stockade being the ‘birthplace’ of democracy in Australia does not account for the important role of half the population of Ballarat at the time. Her argument was that women not only provided the economic backbone of the settlement, but some were at the Stockade and contributed to the fight as well – and they have been well hidden by history.
Most of us thought the book would have been improved by focussing on the stories of a few at the goldfield – rather than the snippets of information we learnt about many of the settlers. Most of our comments drew on the slim knowledge gained from our Australian history classes of the 1960s and included the fact that no one from China made an appearance in the book (given the road from Robe was well travelled). But the book was unapologetically about women and their part in the social fabric of colonial Ballarat and the uprising. While a good read it wasn’t – an important book it was. Perhaps not the Forgotten Rebels, but the hidden rebels of history – as it has ever been so. (Come on down Felix Mendelssohn said Cherrie, and we can all add many others such as the film Hidden Figures).
We moved on from Australia in 1854 to Australia in 2000’s and Slovenia/Egypt in the 1930’s through our next book, Marg’s choice - The Three Burials of Lotty Kneen, by Lotty’s grand-daughter, Krissy Kneen. Drawn to the choice because it was a story of immigration, Marg introduced us to this unusual book – a search for family and belonging involving dragons, DragonHall in outback Queensland, mysteries in Slovenia, trauma and revelations in Egypt – and then there was the author sitting in the middle of everything writing about her own insecurities and being an outsider. It was easy to not believe all of the stories told in the book (dragons aside - we all believed that one!) – but Marg’s judicious research demonstrated otherwise.
Sprinkling her matriarchal grandmother’s ashes in 3 places as she somewhat defiantly travelled through her grandmother’s past, it was storytelling verging on fairytale verging on memoir. Poetry was also infused into the narrative at times further complicating the book’s literary jumble. It ultimately told a story of ancestors, how we can’t escape the past, and maybe coming to terms with ourselves in a complex world (I’m not so sure about the last one – KK was pretty mixed up!). Some of us weren’t convinced however. It wasn’t an easy read and for some it was frustrating to have the author place herself at the front of the narrative at times. But we were captivated by Mog’s discussion about trauma and how it can pass from one generation to another – which seemed to be another line put forward in this book. Yes, there is always a silver lining, though some of us are still looking for it with this one.
A welcome relief was the special healthy but ‘not quite’ chocolate cake a la Marg and the social goss, including outrage at the news of payment of Porter’s legal fees by a blind trust – with consensus that even Blind Freddy could have picked this was simply not on.
Before moving on to our next meeting, it must be said that everyone has their fingers crossed for Megan and her next appointment with the specialist when a treatment plan will be outlined to her and Andrew – we all hope the road is as smooth as it possibly can be, and be assured we FnB’s are here on call to do whatever we can to make it easier.
Next meeting is scheduled for Friday 5 November 2021, with lunch at Hindmarsh Valley. A reccy email will be sent closer to the time to check the time/day change still works – if not, another Wednesday evening will be picked (maybe 10th). So stay tuned. Whenever we meet, the book selections are
Julie: Lapsed, by Monica Dux
Sue: Klara and the Sun, by Kazuo Ishiguro
And as it was suggested K Ishiguro is worth listening to about his book, here is the link to the ABC interview with him about KandtheS (starts off with his interview then goes on to interviews with another author).
https://abcmedia.akamaized.net/rn/podcast/2021/03/bhb_20210301.mp3 for those interested in reading the book, and also those not so much.
Now for something completely different - with thanks to Roy, Pierre and Kathy
Ominous dark clouds and lightning were swirling around Maylands as we gathered at Kathy's place for our meeting on Frenchies Day, 14 July. Given the books, we all knew we were in for difficult, disquieting discussions and thought perhaps Barb, McLassie and Cherilyn played a strategic hand in being apologies - (OK, I may have taken some publisher's license there - we know you were all ridgey-didge).
Our first book was Megan's choice, Infinite Splendours, by Sophie Laguna. If ever a book belied its title, this must be it, but its over to Megan for her summary
Author Sophie Laguna - studied to be a lawyer at Uni of NSW but decided law was not for her & moved to Melbourne to study acting. Whilst working as an actor she completed a Diploma of Professional Writing & Editing at the Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology. She is now an author and playwright for both adults and children. She has written many books for young people and has been nominated for a number of awards including Qld Premier’s Awards - has been published in US, UK and in translation through Europe & Asia.
Her first book for adults was released in 2008 - “One foot wrong” which was long listed for the Miles Franklin.
I didn’t know much about this book other than a couple of friends in other book clubs had read it - I think the title “Infinite Splendours” makes you think of lovely long lasting wonders which are obviously always there. This is the case with the colourful landscape & nature of the Grampians where this book is based and depicted in the artwork produced by Lawrence.
It is a very tough book to read and at times I felt I may not finish it. The story begins in the 1950’s with a mother and her two sons (Lawrence & Paul) living on a property in the beautiful surrounds of the Grampians. The father didn’t return from the war and the mother, whilst doing her best to give her sons a happy life, is constantly thinking about her brother who she was separated from when they were children. They are a happy and close threesome until the day that Uncle unexpectedly arrives. Mother is absolutely delighted and takes great care in preparing the house for his visit.
We soon start to feel uncomfortable with this “too good to be true” relative - the younger brother Paul and the elderly neighbour have misgivings but Laurie is quite taken with him and is delighted when he shows an interest in his art. There is a building of tension interspersed with the every day life and happy times of the family. We just know that a terrible fate awaits Laurie at the hands of his uncle. Once the rape occurs you feel utterly dismayed and just want him to speak up, but of course, predators like this tell you it’s “our secret” and make the child feel as if it’s their fault.
I hoped that Paul would say something but he is the younger brother and didn’t really know exactly what was happening and wouldn’t know how to approach the subject. Possibly Laurie thought that saying nothing would save his brother from being abused too. Mother was oblivious to Laurie’s changed demeanour and just wanted her brother to remain a part of her life! Laurie goes from a talented & popular student to one who can’t communicate, develops a debilitating stammer and his life is totally ruined (particularly as he cannot confide in anyone).
After dropping out of school Laurie takes on a job at the dairy where his mother has worked for many years. He is a loner, cannot relate to his workmates and is quite isolated. As he has grown in to adulthood he has not made sense of what has happened years earlier. He cannot change the past, but the question is whether he is doomed to repeat it!
He befriends the young son of the boss and after a few lunchtimes together is suspected by his workmates of grooming the boy and is badly beaten and doesn’t return to the dairy. Just more heartache for the reader to contend with!!
Now he’s home all the time - mentally deteriorating. His art and regular climbs up Wallis his only outlets. The narrative is lightened by the lush description of landscape and the inclusion of art as a form of therapy, hope, salvation and redemption.
In the last third of the book Laurie is a much older man still living in the same house, but on his own. He and brother Paul are no longer close - he both loves and hates him. Laurie’s health has deteriorated, exacerbated by his isolation and Paul attempts to care for him as best he can. He is totally mortified when a new family move in next door but eventually becomes friends with the 10 year old son David - the reader again becomes worried as to whether this will be a healthy friendship.
The ending is very sad although Laurie does save David from the fire and it is rather bitter/sweet that his agent comes looking for him to see if he has survived the fire and discovers all the amazing art work he would never be recognised for.
Laurie’s inability to talk about what had happened to him was what ultimately destroyed him. This is the impact for many abused children who cannot speak of the unspeakable which continues to haunt them throughout their lives.
Our group discussions turned on the experiences of survivors and being believed, along with some critical reflections on the narrative. This included the failure of adults to act (in particular and sadly the 2 key females, mom and the teacher). Hope and redemption were difficult to find in this book and so with furrowed brows, we moved on to Kathy's selection, The Ripping Tree, by Nikki Gemmell.
And now its Kathy's turn
Nikki Gemmell is the best-selling author of thirteen novels and four works of non-fiction. She was born in Wollongong, New South Wales and attended Rose Bay’s Roman Catholic Kincoppal Primary and Secondary School, on a scholarship. She graduated from the University of Technology, Sydney with a Masters in Writing and worked as a radio journalist for ABC Radio and the BBC World Service. For many years, she lived in London but has now settled back in Australia. Her best-known work is the 2003 novel The Bride Stripped Bare, an explicit exploration of female sexuality (which I’ve not read). In fact, The Ripping Tree is my first exposure to Nicki Gemmell. She is the author of fourteen works of fiction and seven non-fiction books. Her books have been translated into 22 languages. When I mentioned my choice to Megan, she commented that Andrew had bought the book for her because she so enjoys Gemmell’s weekly columns for The Australian. And, she also writes novels for children.
The Ripping Tree is an historical thriller, a tale of survival in colonial Australia. It took Gemmell ten years to write, apparently because motherhood got in the way. The author has revealed that the title, The Ripping Tree, is what her son called this type of tree when her family returned to Australia to live. For the main character and the voice in this book, The Ripping Tree was magic because its bark could be used for a million things.
That character, Thomasina Trelora, loses her father and only surviving parent when she is 16 years old and living in England. Her elder half-brother has made a life in Australia, so he returns to ‘take responsibility’ for his orphaned sister, announcing that he has arranged for her to marry a vicar in the fairly newly settled island continent. Having been raised by her father, it becomes clear that she is highly untypical of that era’s ‘young lady’. When she is orphaned, it becomes quickly obvious that she and her brother are not in any way close, and that he and his wife are disgusted by her lack of feminine training. They are constantly critical of Tom’s behaviour on the long journey to Australia, and Tom, devastated about having to leave her homeland and being made to marry a complete stranger, can only think of a way to escape the claustrophobic world that, as far as her brother is concerned, is rescuing her.
Just as they are nearing their destination, a fierce storm dashes the boat into the rocks leaving Thomasina as the only survivor. Her rescuer leaves her, wrapped in bark from the ripping tree, on the doorstep of “Willowbrae”.
Unlike a review by Frank O’Shea in the Canberra Times in April this year, in my first reading of the book, I was mainly interested in the tale and finding out what was going to happen to this young girl. O’Shea was distracted and says he was ‘…so bogged down in the elegant prose that the story is in danger of being ignored.’ His second reading allowed him to truly absorb the storyline. In my second reading, I was reminded that the story was being told by Thomasina, now a grandmother, to her daughter and her daughter’s children who had just visited Willowbrae. They thought it was a wonderful place and were keen to spend more time there, so Tom decided to read them her own handwritten tale about the property.
I thoroughly enjoyed the writing style in my first read, but in the second reading, I became much more conscious of the beautiful and descriptive prose Gemmell used throughout the story. An example, in relation to Thomasina’s rescue, when she was barely conscious, Gemmell wrote:
“Spit on fingertips – rubbed my eyes into cleanness, into sight, and I blinked wide with relief”
“….A palm before me was something – what – to hold, look at, eat – yes, eat. Pale, unappetizing, globulous. I didn’t recognise, was afraid.
“…This hand on my back kept rubbing and rubbing and the food came at me again and it wouldn’t scrape past the dryness in my throat, and I gagged. I retched the food out.
“….Then lips. At mine. Oh, the goodness. What? This….softness. This tenderness. I arced in some kind of instinct to meet the flesh that was saving me in a great transference of warmth and connection and trust; but no, it was practicality, merely that. Masticated food was being passed to me, lip to lip, and I flushed and swallowed without tasting, then like a horse, ate greedily from a palm held flat. The hand that had been rubbing my back and propping me up and cleaning my eyes with spit wasn’t white – but black.
Thomasina’s first feeling is that she has truly been saved from the fate her brother had wanted to create for her, and that she would finally be able take control of her own life. She wakes to see a young boy staring at her who is the youngest son of the family living in the homestead where she has been left. “Mouse”, as he is called by the family, is extremely lonely and desperate for someone’s love. He believes Tom may be a mermaid and nicknames her “Poss”. He begins to share some of his secret adventures with her as she recovers from her ordeal, and Tom begins to realise there are many layers to Willowbrae, and finds that she wants to peel away at those layers, much like the bark on the Ripping Tree. She wants to expose the core of truth and honesty with this highly unusual family.
The story covers only 7 days, and each day with the family makes her want to ask more and more questions – questions that are not welcomed by the family members. She becomes justifiably fearful that she might be in danger and doesn’t know who to trust. She is certainly not confident in giving away her true identity, lest that knowledge leads to her being married off to the vicar to whom she had been promised by her half-brother.
The vicar turns out to be one of the town visitors who come asking questions, wanting to know her true identity. He is not an attractive man and appears to have no confidence in himself when he is with her. She has no way of knowing, but wonders if this might be the vicar to whom she has been promised. On his second and third visit to Willowbrae, when they are able to get to know each other a bit better, Tom and the Vicar find a common respect and care for each other. She also discovers he is the vicar intended for her by her brother.
Tom is closely guarded by the maternal figure in the household who fears Poss might be taken away if she is able to recall her true identity. “Mouse’s” mother has offered “Poss” the opportunity to stay at Willowbrae, to be a governess to her young son, as well as to provide her with a much needed female companion.
Poss comes to learn that the mother is a completely frazzled woman, with no patience for much at all, especially the wild country she has been forced to make her home. It soon becomes clear that the mother is trying to replace the daughter she lost and adored some years before. She describes it as very fortuitous that Poss should be the only survivor of the shipwreck, with no memory of who she is or to whom she may belong, and to have been left, like a miracle, on the Willowbrae door stoop.
In one of Mouse’s adventure outings, they discover a dead Aboriginal woman and child. Much to Mouse’s distress, Poss becomes obsessed with convincing the family to remove the dead bodies and give them a proper burial. And it is from this point on in the story that the truth is uncovered about this family’s beliefs and horrible treatment of Aboriginals.
Poss makes such a nuisance of herself that the family are able to persuade a doctor that she is suffering from hysteria, a fashionable ailment of the day, so that she can be sent to a primitive asylum from which she may never escape.
The story is an uncomfortable reminder of early Australian history, and I was left wanting to know more. Tom obviously escaped her confinement and went on to have a family and grandchildren. Did she marry the vicar? Were the family ever exposed for their treatment and behaviour of the natives? Will Gemmell consider a second book?
We agreed the exposure of aboriginal experiences when white people arrived needs to be told, distressing as they are - but there was uncertainty in the group as to whether this was the strong book it could have been. Some of us found the writing difficult at times, and some of the main characters were drawn a bit too 'loosely' - which perhaps had the effect of losing the impact of the narrative. The storyline took place over 7 days and though we all know miracles can occur on this timeline (?), it created some credibility gaps as well.
Yes, the weather indeed foreshadowed our gut wrenching books - but then, putting aside our individual views its incontestable that the themes of both books deserve to be out in the open and talked about. A wise woman once said 'Whenever I see a taboo, I just think that's something we need to drag
screaming out into the light and discuss. Because taboos are where our
fears live, and taboos are the things that keep us tiny.' So perhaps without knowing it, we all grew a little bit on Frenchies night, and we can thank the authors and selectors for that.
After collective sighs of relief, Kathy came to the rescue with fabulous oranges and lemon cake, decorated with amazing edible flowers, and we all assumed she was auditioning for the next edition of 'MasterChef'. Kathy kindly offered to share the recipe - but not until after the next finals series (not really - just let her know! and I'm putting up my hand Kathy). Over tea and cake, the mood was lightened with jokes from Mog and the specially invited French guest all the way from the room next door, Pierre.
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| The hand goes for the Oranges & Lemon cake |
McLassie: The Forgotten Rebels of Eureka, by Claire Wright
Marg P: The three burials of Lotty Keen, by Krissy Keen
Stay warm, stay reading and stay safe everyone.
All members of the group were at Cherrie’s city pad for the May meeting – and that included one new but rather swollen bloody knee that Megan brought along with her, and a puzzling pressure problem that accompanied McLassie. So of course we all swung in with our (not so) well informed medical opinions and suggestions on knees, necks, ears, etc before we embarked on our evenings’ journey into the written word.
Cherrie’s book was first, and here is her erudite and unedited background information (thanks Cherrie):
Evie Wyld b. 16/6/1980.
This is a difficult book to read, both for its construction and content. The violence herein brought me visceral dread.
To help tease out the stories, on the second reading I read Section I right through, then Section II, etc. Wyld abandons any linear foundation in her construction of the novel. I tried to give background to the setting on the Firth of Forth, the features of North Berwick and the lowering Bass Rock, representing dark male dominance in a feminine sea, (thanks to Mog, for that). (Note from blogger - nice little evasion of the more direct phallus symbol!)
Wyld’s Grandfather’s 1st wife died of TB, leaving two small traumatised little boys. Within a short time he had married a tall, intelligent woman, (who was never in a position to use that intelligence), who was not a motherly sort of person to the two boys. Evie remembered a grey-haired alcoholic. whom she found hard and scary. When her grandmother and father died in quick succession, she inherited a photo album and there was Bass Rock with her father pictured with it, just as she herself had been pictured on summer holidays in the big house.
The house itself is almost another character. Huge, lonely, ghosts. Evie, her husband and infant son had to leave their last flat because all three perceived a presence in that house which did not feel comfortable. Whereas Evie/Viv’s generation has used cutting to express anger, Ruth systematically broke wedding presents and other objects, parts of the setting within this place which Ruth finds hostile.
Talking about the processes of writing the novel, Wyld originally had another 30+ voices, including the three in this book, and these three “stuck”. She started with Ruth. Then came Sarah, accused of being a witch. A ploy at that time to deal with “different” women, clever women, outspoken women. In Nth Berwick there is St Andrews Old Kirk, where women were accused of being witches - they were executed in Edinburgh. With the witch -hunt in the story of Sarah, came a change to a faster paced flight thru the forest. The story is told by a young man who is just assuming a manly role; the language here is set in that time.
Viv is based on herself. 40-ish, no outward signs of having made it- no money, no stellar job, no man. Viv can be quite self-lacerating, but the possibility of a relationship with Vince opened up humour and some lightness.
Evie Wyld’s 1st two novels circled the theme of men’s violence. The 1st wrote about 2 men unable to realise the expectations of men, the 2nd is about a woman who is dealing with her brutalisation by men. In this 3rd book, some think that it depicts all men as bad, but there are the Uncles, Christopher and Michael, who themselves have suffered dreadfully at boarding school, where the patriarchal institution has wreaked havoc, particularly for Viv’s father, Michael. Evie’s own father and uncles were sent to BS @ 8, where they suffered corporal punishment, and her uncles were damaged by that. The train scene where Viv’s uncle Christopher was tempted to kill an abuser really happened to one of her uncles. He regretted not doing it. In the UK, the murder of Sarah Everard by a policeman has unlocked a huge anxiety in women. Evie spoke about Sherele Moody’s Femicide Map of Australia on which every red heart represents a murdered child or woman....and if possible a little is written about each victim. Viv’s friend Maggie talks about imagining every single abused female being visible together. Wyld also spoke about the treatment of women in psychiatric institutions.
Wyld spoke about using Jim Crace’s idea of minimal research and giving the reader just enough to fill in the gaps for themselves.
The novel is character driven without long descriptive passages. Wyld says her writing is becoming more sparse. She has no plot or plan when she starts. Rather she accrues ideas, characters etc around a starting point, goes off in many directions with different stories, then starts to string the novel together. When the novel is coming together well she has it read by her husband, a literary agent, her agent and then her editor.
Her next book will be more simple.
Q: How does she have such a strong affinity w Australia?
A: Nostalgia. Never lived in Australia for more than a year at a time...childhood memories are so vivid. She thinks she could never write a novel about London. Hard to get her brain within it.
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What a great start – especially the revelation on how to
read the book. So simples! Yet we all
read it page by page, and agreed it was a struggle to keep track of plots,
timelines, characters. (Hmm - thinking and pondering - is there a link between the recent big shift in the construction of novels and the availability of digital books?)
The general consensus was that it was a troubling encounter and took us on a difficult journey. We went into many dark corners and it was only for some of us that the light shone through it. We split between those who thought it a very unfair exercise in demonising males; those who thought it vividly portrayed male control, coercion and violence against females; and there were some on the fence. Alcohol, drugs and depression played around the edges of many of the characters, hinting at the impact on the frailer characters in the book (cause or effect?). A few of us took to Vivienne, others not so much; all liked Ruth; and most were puzzled by Sarah and Maggie. Of the males, as Cherrie mentioned, the step sons Michael and particularly Christopher came through as non-monsters, along with John, but otherwise it was a troubling ride into testosterone, violence and control.
No scores were offered but given the extent of robust discussion about the book, this blog(ger) will record it as a win but not a triumph.
So our slightly shattered group then moved on to Moggie’s selection, Lowitja – the biography of Lowitja O’Donoghue by Stuart Rintoul. Moggie explained it was an authorised biography which she selected after hearing the author speak at Writers Week this year. It was written in a very moving and personal way and painted a portrait of a remarkable Australian First Nations woman. As a member of the ‘stolen generation’, when at 2 years of age she was taken to Colebrook Home from her family home in Indulkana SA, her efforts to reunite with her mother after 30 years evoked great sadness – yet it clearly made her a stronger woman. This journey was partly to counter media criticism (by the dreaded A Bolt - I won’t spell him out!) who alleged she wasn’t Aboriginal – but it probably served to make a wise person even wiser and more determined.
Our evening ended with Mog’s moist, delicious carrot cake, coffee, tea and natter (with 2 or 3 natters going on at the same time). As we departed, meeting dates were raised and consensus reached on the second Wednesday of each (alternate) month – so the next meeting is 7 pm on Wednesday 14 July at Kathy’s place (46 Frederick Street, Maylands). Hot off the press is the book selections:
Megan -Infinite Splendours by Sofia Laguna
Kathy – The Ripping Tree by Nikki Gemmell
And we will anxiously wait to see who bakes (because according to this observer, that natter was unresolved - but maybe it was on the journey home).
Finally, for anyone interested at this link you will find interviews with Evie Wyld and Nikki Gemmell about their respective books. https://www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/the-book-show/episodes/
