Books and reading
Twisty tale from home: ‘Girl Falling’ by Hayley Scrivenor
A new crime novel by an author I enjoy, set in my home region of the Blue Mountains of NSW. How could I resist?
Hayley Scrivenor’s debut novel, Dirt Town, received well-deserved accolades (my review is here.) I was looking forward to her next book and was delighted to learn that it was set amongst the sheer cliffs and amazing views of the Blue Mountains.
The thing I enjoy most about crime fiction are the characters and emotions, plus of course a well-drawn setting, and Girl Falling doesn’t disappoint.
The title is well chosen, as it can imply both the physical act of falling (in this case, from cliffs) but it can also be an emotional plunge for characters – in this case, pretty much all the characters.
The premise is intruiging: two high school girls bond over the shared trauma of losing a sister to suicide. Now young adults, they have grown inseparable – until one of them meets and falls in love with someone else.
There is a lot in here about youngsters trying to find their way in life, moving beyond childhood trauma, and also toxic relationships and coercion that can take many forms.
There is a twist that I truly did not see coming – and I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about it.
For all these reasons, Girl Falling is a crime novel that stayed with me well after I had read the final page.
Girl Falling was published by Pan Macmillan Australia in July 2024.
Connections: ‘The belburd’ by Nardi Simpson
The new novel by award-winning Yuwaalaraay singer and writer Nardi Simpson is tricky to describe. It is unlike any book I have read.
There are two narratives within the book, seemingly disparate but actually closely connected. There is the story of Ginny, a young poet trying to make sense of her world and her place in it. She writes poems and ‘plants’ them around her environment, literally planting them with some soil and a little water as she moves around her neighbourhood.
Then there is the being whose experience as a birth spirit is told in first person. ‘Sprite’ is rolling around in Eel Mother’s belly, meeting other spirits who are waiting to be born, and those who did not make it or do not survive.
The two narratives connect when we realise that Sprite and the other birth spirits see all. From this, we can perhaps understand that everything and everyone are connected, from times past into the future.
It is a fascinating way to introduce readers to a view of the world and the spirit that is very different from mainstream Western thought and traditions.
For this reason, it is a book to come to with an open heart and an open mind, and let the ideas and language wash over you, absorbing their meaning without trying to.
The belburd is published by Hachette in October 2024.
My thanks to the publishers and to NetGalley for an early copy to review.It’s complicated: ‘Germania’ by Simon Winder
This is not a new book: first published in 2010 and one of a trilogy of books about Central Europe, Germania is described as a personal history of Germans ancient and modern.
Why did I pick up a fourteen-year-old book about Germany?
Because, in my investigations into my family tree, there is one individual about whom I know very little: my mother’s 3 x great-grandfather, Christian Uebel.
In a tree made up of mainly English and Irish branches, Christian Uebel is an outlier, on a branch of his own. He emigrated from the Rhineland region of the country we now know as Germany, arriving in Australia in the 1860s. I realised that I knew so much more about British history and culture and almost nothing about Germany, so Germania was my first step to correcting this.
I quickly realised that the history of central Europe is much more complicated than I had imagined. I knew that the German nation did not exist until the unification in 1871, and in the centuries leading up to that, there were endless squabbles between and about the many, many small and large states that made up the German-speaking parts of Europe.
Germania traverses the history of this region from the days of the ancient tribes in the forests, all the way up to 1933, when the Nazis took power. I wondered about this timeframe until I realised it was for an entirely sensible reason. The dark shadows of WWII have so dominated German history, that apart from the first World War, many people know very little about what came before it.
This is not simply a book about history, although of course that is an important theme. It’s also a travelogue of a particular kind; one where the author indulges his pet loves – and hates – about a country and culture, and describes these in a very amusing – even humorously disrespectful – way.
Here’s an example: in discussing the appearance of a particular abbey, which gives a sense of an ancient and brilliant culture, but whose main interior unfortunately looks as though something has gone horribly wrong involving a collision with several trucks filled with icing sugar, having had an extreme rococo makeover to mark its seven-hundred-and-fiftieth anniversary. (p65)
There are plenty of gems like this, along with more serious discussions of the ups and downs of German history. On this, we are told that there were three points at which it was the worst time to be alive in central Europe’s past: the 1340s (famine and plague), the 1630s (the Thirty Years War) and the 1940s.
No prizes for guessing why that last one is on the list.
I was grateful for the map of Germany and its neighbours in central Europe at the front of the book, flipping frequently back and forth in my quest to learn more about this fascinating and (to me anyway) somewhat bewildering region.
Winder’s analysis of the themes and movements, great and small, of European history is thoughtful and thought-provoking:
But, as with so many aspects of Central European history, there is such an amazing spread of unintended consequences that only a form of political paralysis can substitute for the actual kaleidoscope of decisions which generate the oddness of European history – a small, bitter and crowded landscape somehow incapable of (indeed allergic to) the broad-ranging uniformity of the Chinese Empire or the United States. It is unfortunate that what seems in many lights so fascinating about Europe should also, as a spin-off, be the basis for so much rage and death.
Germania p273
Germania was published by Picador in 2010.
Austria in WWII: ‘The Secret Society of Salzburg’ by Renee Ryan
This historical fiction book opens with the arrest by the Gestapo of acclaimed and loved Austrian opera singer Elsa Mayer-Braun, on a stage in Salzburg in 1943. So, an early heads up of what one of the two main characters has to deal with.
From here the narrative weaves back and forth in time, and also across the English Channel, from the Continent to London, where we meet the other protagonist Hattie, who works in a dull civil service office, but longs to paint.
An unlikely pair of women to put together, but that is what the author does, as a chance meeting develops into a deep friendship between the two. Hattie travels to Austria with her sister to see Elsa perform and the sisters become stalwart fans of Elsa and her operas.
But of course war is coming and once their nations are at war, everything changes – except the women’s determination to carry out the secretive work of smuggling Jews out of Austria to England. Both Elsa and Hattie will not stop these life-saving rescue missions, despite the ever-increasing danger involved.
While Hattie’s artistic career takes off and Elsa travels Europe to perform – including singing for some high ranking Nazi officers – their secret missions ramp up.
As the tension mounts the reader is left guessing: is Elsa’s husband a threat or an ally? Who is the art dealer who supports Hattie’s artistic success and may just be falling in love with her? Will Elsa’s deep secrets be kept hidden or discovered by the Nazi heirarchy?
I loved that this story was inspired by real-life English sisters, civil servants who learned of the persecution of Jews through a freindship with an Austrian conductor and his wife. In my view, the best kind of historical fiction is that which touches on real people or events.
The Secret Society of Salzburg gives an insight into the experiences of Austrians in the lead-up and the early years of the war and Nazi occupation. It’s an engrossing story, well told.
The Secret Society of Salzburg was published in November 2023 by HarperCollins. My thanks to the publishers for a review copy.
The unforseen and sometimes hilarious consquences of lies: ‘The Too-Tall Tales of Alma T Best’ by Katherine Collette
What fun this novel is! Book One (‘Out of Bounds’) in what promises to be a captivating series for middle-grade readers, it offers plenty of genuine laugh-out-loud moments and also genuine insight into the insecurities of this age group as they transition from childhood to the teens.
Alma is twelve years old and six foot tall. She feels too-tall all the time. And she hates basketball and even more, hates being asked if she plays it.
When she begins Year 7 on a scholarship at the presitigous Holy Grace High School, she tells one little fib about where she lives. Rather than admitting she lives in Shellsville (a tiny town in the middle of nowhere and home to the district sewage treatment plant) she lets her new classmates believe that she lives on a farm – a peach farm.
A harmless little fib, right?
Except that this lie develops at shocking speed into a snowball, racing downhill at breakneck speed and threatening to demolish Alma’s whole life – and the network of subsequent lies she must tell to stop people discovering the truth about that first, harmless little fib.
She suddenly finds herself on the Holy Grace basketball team and committing to provide dozens of jars of peach jam for the school fundraiser.
The result are very amusing encounters with jam theft, basketball shoes, the bucket shot, mud masks and other assorted situations that she finds herself in. It’s a lovely tale of friends, family and fitting in.
Along the way Alma learns about lies:
The truth might be harder to tell initially but once you were through the difficult bit – and maybe parts were more difficult in your head than in actuality – it was easy, there was nothing to keep track of. Lies were the opposite: easy in the beginning and then hard. You saved face but drowned in complication. On balance, the truth seemed preferential.
The Too-Tall Tales of Alma T Best – Out of Bounds p261
Out of Bounds is published by HarperCollins Children’s Books in September 2024.
My thanks to the publishers for a review copy.Re-peopling history: ‘Dirrayawadha – Rise Up’ by Anita Heiss
I read this book with a sorrowful heart, knowing that the resolution could not be a positive one, even with the strong threads of family, love and strength that are twined throughout.
Historical fiction, it is based on the early conflicts between the Wiradjuri people of the central west of NSW with colonial settlers. These became known as the ‘Bathurst wars’ but were part of a wider, escalating series of violent encounters and retributions that today are more accurately referred to as the ‘Australian wars.’ Yes, folks, Australia has indeed had armed warfare on its soil.
The novel tells the story of Windradyne, a Wiradyuri leader, who refuses to submit to the ‘white ghosts’ who are attempting to take over his country and force his people into subjection. Windradyne is a real figure from history, a freedom fighter, though of course at the time the colonial authorities and many settlers regarded him more as a terrorist.
Along with Windradyne we meet his sister, Miinaa, who is living with some of her family at the property of the Nugents, Irish settlers who arrived free to the colony and have taken up land to farm. Of course the Nugents are part of the colonial mission and therefore part of the problem. However, they are kind people and have some sympathy for the Wiradjuri, and treat their employees, assigned convicts, and Wiradjuri, fairly.
Miinaa misses her extended family and their way of life, as she watches her world rapidly changing, almost beyond recognition. And as the violence surrounding her increases, she worries for her brother and the rest of her family.
Into the picture steps Dan, an Irish political prisoner transported to NSW as a convict. Dan can see the similarities between the British subjugation of the Irish, and the situation faced by the Wiradjuri. As Dan and Miinaa fall in love, he starts to understand more of the Wiradjuri world view, their cultural and spiritual practices and how Country is at the centre of it all. He is not alone but definitely in the minority among his fellow convicts and most white people, in his empathy with the Wiradjuri.
The outcome of this novel is not a happy one. How could it be, knowing how real history played out – and how First Nations people across Australia continue to suffer from generations of inherited trauma and dispossession?
There are some moments of hope and happiness, though. The strong bonds that unite and support Wiradjuri as they face an existential threat. The ability of some characters to reach across the racial divide and find things that connect them with each other.
As I often do, I checked out the historical facts that this story is inspired by, and was heartened to learn that the Nugents were based on a real family who did indeed employ (and shelter) Wiradjuri people, and maintained strong friendships with them across several generations. And Windradyne did not meet his death at the hands of the ‘white ghosts.’
The one aspect of the novel that jarred a little for me was the language used by characters, Wiradjuri and white, especially that of Dan. In his attempts to get his fellow-convicts and local settlers to understand the shared injustices faced by Wiradjuri and Irish, his dialogue includes many terms and expressions that I doubt would have been used by a young man at that time, such as ‘civil liberties’ and ‘plight of the dispossessed.’ Perhaps a well-educated Irish political activist may have done so, but I’m not sure about a man such as Dan.
However, the author uses these for a reason – to put the concepts into a modern-day perspective. In doing so, she blurs the boundaries of historical context a little, but makes the ideas and themes in the novel more accessible to many readers.
One of the many things I enjoyed about the book is the liberal use of Wiradjuri words and phrases throughout. This is a noticeable trend in books by First Nations authors and I love it! There is an extensive glossary provided but after reading through it, I found that simply immersing myself in the story and encountering repeated uses of words allowed me to absorb the meanings without feeling like I was taking part in a language lesson.
Use of Wiradjuri language also allows readers to glimpse some of the important concepts for Wiradjuri people, both in the past and today. It is no coincidence, for example, that the words I ‘learnt’ from reading this book included ones for children, Country, respect, family.
Dirrayawadha – Rise Up is gripping, troubling, and insightful and I recommend it to all who want to understand more about Australia’s colonial past. One of blurb comments about Heiss’ historical fiction is that she is ‘re-peopling history’ and I think that is accurate. Books like this bring to life real events in our nation’s past that most would have only a vague idea of, at best. I guarantee you will never visit Bathurst (one of my favourite country towns) in quite the same way after reading it.
Dirrayawadha – Rise Up was published by Simon & Schuster in July 2024.
My thanks to the publishers and to NetGalley for a copy to review.Familiar place, familiar crime: ‘Pheasant’s Nest’ by Louise Milligan
Louise Milligan will be known to many Australians as an award winning investigative journalist and author of non-fiction books; Pheasant’s Nest is her debut novel. It opens on a stretch of road very familiar to me, and I’m sure to others who have driven the Hume Highway from Sydney to Canberra, or further south to Melbourne.
In this opening scene, the protagonist Kate Delaney is tied up on the back seat of a man’s car heading north from Melbourne. The man has committed a violent sexual assault and kidnapping and is now on the run with his victim.
The rest of the novel plays out as the clock ticks down: will it end with Kate’s murder or with rescue?
The narrative zips between Kate’s thoughts as she lies helpless and afraid in the car, to the panic and fear of her devoted boyfriend Liam and her best friend Sylvia, and to the two detectives in charge of the investigation.
I appreciated this aspect of the novel very much. Hearing what is in Kate’s head allows readers to see her as a person with a career (journalism, unsuprisingly), friends, family and a full, largely happy life. Of course she is terrified, too, because having covered plenty of crime cases as a journalist, she knows there is limited time for police to track down her assailant. Her fear feels very real.
What we also hear are her less serious thoughts: her reflections on her past, her career and colleagues, her lover and her friends. Some of these are actually very funny – unexpectedly in a crime novel like this. I particularly enjoyed the quite pointed but hilarious descriptions of the evangelical church ‘JoyChurch’ located in Sydney’s northwest ‘aspirational affluence belt,’ and the completely fake and probably corrupt couple at its centre.
The PTSD suffered by the NSW detective who has seen too many crimes and too many acts of self destruction also ring very true. He has held onto his compassion despite it all, but at great personal cost. His character speaks to the hard job we give police officers and their need for greater resourcing and personal support.
The other characters are also quite special; Liam and Sylvia as they head north to NSW to be closer to Kate (even though no one is sure exactly where she is) are beautifully drawn, as are some of the minor characters.
It’s a well paced and unfortunately very believable novel. We see too many headlines about women being attacked either by an intimate partner, a casual date, or a random person, to think that the crime at the centre of this story is not all-too-familiar in real life.
The author describes the stretch of road through the Southern Highlands of NSW in all its creepy detail. Anyone who followed the Ivan Milat serial killing cases in the Belanglo Forest there, or is aware of how many suicides have occured at the eponymous Pheasant’s Nest Bridge, will recognise the sensation of vague threat that driving through here can evoke.
Pheasant’s Nest is crime fiction with something important to say. It will be enjoyed by readers who don’t like too much gruesome detail but who appreciate familiar and believable characters and places in their fiction. It is published by Allen & Unwin in 2024.
The wonderful world of children’s literature
Four new books for children have arrived on my doorstep over the last little while – the best kind of mail! I absolutely love children’s literature and some of my fondest memories of my own childhood and that of my son are reading them, having them read to me, and reading them to another.
First off there is an illustrated chapter book by the wonderful Alice Pung, Millie Mak the Mender, a follow up to the earlier Millie Mak the Maker (which I have not read.)
Millie is eleven, and lives with her parents, her toddler sister, and one of her two grandmothers (the Chinese-Australian one) while also spending a lot of time after school at her other grandmother (the Scottish-Australian one.) Immediately we know we are in a world of inclusivity, one that embraces the richness of Australia’s multicultural life.
Millie has a talent, her ‘superpower’, which is her skill in designing, sewing, making and mending things. In the first part of the book she sees first-hand the loneliness of many residents at the aged care home where her mum works. She decides to design and make a warm winter hat for each, hats that are beautifully aligned to each resident’s own individual passions and interests.
A rather bossy and shallow girl at Millie’s school gets wind of the project, steals Millie’s idea and tries to scoop the glory by starting a ‘Hats off for Humanity’ project at the school – one which involves her in a ‘coordination’ role but not actually doing much else. Undeterred, Millie presses ahead with other projects to help her friends and their families.
The upshot of all this is that Millie and her three best friends are invited to be interviewed on a popular TV program for children. It’s all very exciting, but turns out to be a great disappointment because the show’s producers want to showcase stereotypical ‘ethnic children’ in what they think are traditional outfits. They don’t listen to the girls and Millie and her friends are left feeling they have been used.
It’s a hard lesson to learn and along the way they deal with lots of other life issues: ageism, racism, the difference between popularity and worth, the importance of family and of being a genuine friend.
The story is beautifully told, with natural language and everyday scenes, and the black and white illustrations by Sher Rill Ng bring Millie’s world to life.
A gorgeous addition to the early chapter book shelf, Millie Mak the Mender is published in September 2024.
The next three books are picture books.
What Do You Call Your Dad? by Ashleigh Barton and Martina Heiduczek is the next in the What Do You Call…? series (I have reviewed the ealrier titles on this blog.) Continuing on the theme of diversity and the joy of family and language in all their forms, in this one we hear the words for ‘dad’ spoken by children in Hungary, Ireland, Samoa, Nigeria, Portugal and Brazil, to name just a few. Once again the full colour illustrations allow children to be immersed in scenes from other cultures and homes.
What Do You Call Your Dad? was published in July 2024.Before We Met by Gabrielle Tozer, illustrated by Sophie Beer, also celebrates families. It’s all about the anticipation and excitement that families feel while waiting to welcome a new child. We see all sorts of families as they plan and prepare for their new little person: adoptive parents, same-sex parents, IVF parents, parents far away. All filled with hope and plenty of love to share.
Before We Met is published in September 2024.And last but not least, a Christmas offering: On the Hunt for Santa by Lesley Gibbes and Stephen Michael King. Three friends – Hare with a honey pot, Cat with a candy cane, and Pig with a plum pudding – set off on a mysterious trip.
Where were they going that snowy day, out in the cold so far away?They encounter all sorts of dangers and have adventures, never giving up, even when they hear the howls of hungry snow wolves on the prowl. Their destination is – of course! – the North Pole where they are greeted by a happy Santa, who clapped his mitts. It was Christmas Day. He was thrilled to bits.
On the Hunt for Santa is a gentle, jolly read-aloud book perfect for Christmas time snuggles, published in September 2024.
The four books are all published by HarperCollins.
My thanks to the publishers for review copies.Historical richness: ‘Threadbare’ by Jane Loeb Rubin
I reviewed US author Jane Loeb Rubin’s debut novel In the Hands of Women last year. Her second novel has been released recently and is actually a prequel to the first, as it tells the story of the experiences of refugees and immigrants in New York in the late 1800’s.
Once again there is a treasure trove of historical riches in this book. The main character is Tillie, a girl whose aspirations to attend high school are cut short by the tragic death of her mother from breast cancer. Tillie is left in charge of helping her father run their farm in Harlem, on what was then the northern outskirts of the city. She also keeps house and looks after her younger siblings, including Hannah, who is the main character featured in In the Hands of Women. In this new novel we get a fuller understanding of the tough circumstances in which Hannah’s life began, and the sacrifices made by her older sister.
Tillie marries at sixteen and fortunately – for it’s a match arranged in part by the local Rabbi – it is a mostly happy one. However her new husband brings her to live in the tenements of New York’s lower east side, notorious for their terrible squalor and poverty. The plan is to stay here only temporarily until they can save enough to move to a better area.
Tillie’s refuge is the local Jewish centre with its lending library, where she begins teaching English to the many people from Europe crowding into the city.
She helps her husband with his business selling buttons to the burgeoning clothing trade in the city, and becomes fascinated by fashions and the beautiful clothing she sees, but can never afford. During this time the family experience the trauma of the infectious diseases that run rampant through the poorly ventilated apartment buildings, and the death of an infant.
As an aside, I looked on Google maps to get an idea of the areas being described in the book. I was pleased to note that in the district where Tillie and Abe first live, there is now a museum dedicated to telling the stories of the many immigrant communities who lived here from the nineteenth century. The link to the Tenement Museum is here, if you are interested. If I ever get to New York City, it will be on my ‘to do’ list for sure.
As Abe’s business grows they move to a newer apartment and things begin to look up for the family. With her best friend Sadie, Tillie starts a business, making kits for poorer women to be able to sew their own clothes, using patterns rather like the ones my own mother used to buy, to sew for herself and her family.
I always love learning the ‘back story’ of a place, a company or industry, and Threadbare provides so much of the history of ‘Gilded Age’ New York – which was anything but gilded for its poorer citizens, especially women. Contraceptive devices and abortions were illegal then and made life so much harder for poor women and their families – something that Tillie herself experiences. There is also the scourge of diseases such as tuberculosis and women’s cancers, at a time when germ theory was a relatively new idea and surgical and other medical treatments still far from those we would recognise today.
Especially vivid in Threadbare is the way in which women in business were ignored, patronised, or ridiculed. Tillie’s husband must accompany her to meetings with potential business partners even though the ideas being pitched were hers and Sadie’s.
As in the best historical fiction, Threadbare offers opportunities to learn about the past while enjoying an engrossing story about believable and sympathetic characters. The ups and downs of Tillie’s life had me cheering her on, metaphorically speaking, and hoping that the many obstacles lined up against her could disappear. They don’t, of course, but in the process of her dealing with them we see what determination and courage look like.
As always with such stories, I drew particular pleasure from the fact that Tillie is inspired by the author’s real-life great-grandmother, Mathilde, who had arrived with her family from Germany in the 1860s. I can’t think of a better way to honour an ancestor than by writing a book inspired by their life!
Threadbare is published in 2024 by Level Best Books.