A beautiful gift: ‘Words to Sing the World Alive’ Edited by Jasmin McGaughey & the Poet’s Voice
What do ‘first language’ or ‘mother tongue’ mean to you? The language you were born into? The first words you learnt? The language you think in, dream in: the way you see your world?
For most people, they are all of those things, and more.
Words to Sing the World Alive is a celebration of language: specifically, some of the many hundreds of First Languages that existed in Australia before European colonisation.
On their website, the publishers University of Queensland Press describe it this way:
Words to Sing the World Alive celebrates First Nations languages from across the continent. Forty First Nation writers and thinkers, journalists and lawyers, artists and astronomers come together to reveal their favourite and significant words. Words that evoke the power of childhood and the wonder of Country; that explore the essence of mother, of fire, of time. Words that are imbued with family and belonging, and that surprise with their connections.
UQP websitePerhaps unsurprisingly it is also a lyrical collection of great beauty and depth. Each of the short contributions offers a gem, something to consider deeply, something to learn by. Each language reflects the culture and world view of its speakers. Language can help us to deep dive into ways of seeing the big questions of life, the meaning of it, what comes before and what comes after.
Here is one of my favourite quotes from the book (and believe me, it was hard to narrow it down as there are many beautiful words, phrases, sentences and paragraphs in this slim volume):
But it’s on the tongue where this language [Wiradjuri] sings the world alive. Any one word can feel like a story, a narrative in small syllables. An arrangement of breath where my body and spirit inhabit. The muscles on my face are clunky, learning the shapes carved by rivers, known by sky. I was raised in English, and so I am finding my way back to myself through this sun-warmed language. Journeys through time, forward and back, held by language, held by Country.
Jazz Money, in Words to Sing the World Alive, p10This book reflects the language revitalisation projects taking place around the country, where endangered languages are being revived, new life breathed into words and concepts that might otherwise fade forever.
Such endeavours are so important, to reclaim what has been lost from over two hundred years of loss, forced removals from Country, separation of people from family, culture, language.
My recommendation is to take this book slowly, dipping into one or two contributions at a time. You can better savour the words offered and their stories better that way. And if you can, do so with the Australian Institute of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies Map of Indigenous Australia handy (online version available through their website here.) This will help with the geographic context of each of the languages being discussed.
As a non-indigenous Australian who loves words, I also consider the book to be yet another generous gift of great beauty from First Australians to the wider Australian community, if we care to receive it.
Words to Sing the World Alive was published by University of Queensland Press in 2024.
More Australian favourites: three new picture books
Jackie French, one of my favourite authors of both adult’s and children’s books, has a new release in a series that focuses on animals and the way environmental events like fire, flood and drought affect them. You can read my reviews of the first two, The Fire Wombat, and The Turtle and the Flood.
In book three, we meet Joseph, a young kangaroo in a mob trying to survive drought. The effects of the challenging environment and deprivation are described vividly: the animals’ thin tails, their listlessness. Joseph senses water from afar and he decides to go in search of it. It’s a risk, but he knows that he and his mob won’t survive long without life-saving water and fresh grass.
None of his mob follow, so he must journey a long way on his own, under a hard, hot sky and plains of dust and rock. All of the animals and birds on his way call out for water as he passes through their country. His adventures include one drawn from the author’s own experience – a collision between a kangaroo and her (thankfully stopped) car. The kangaroo was unhurt but the incident began a long connection between her and the animal, which stayed around her property long afterwards.
In the story, it eventually rains and the land around Joseph is transformed with running creeks and lush new grass. He is challenged, but unharmed, by the Big Roo of a mob of kangaroos in the new land he has travelled to, and accepted as one of their own. This is now his home.
This simple story encapsulates the struggle of Australia’s animals and birds when faced with drought, and the survival strategies they use. But I think it’s also about the human response to danger and disaster, and the search for a better life – perhaps a plea for understanding the situations of the increasing number of ‘environmental refugees’ in the world, escaping from intolerable conditions brought about by the climate crisis.
Ms French is well known for her advocacy for animals and environmental protection, and her NSW property is a haven for wildlife. As she remarks in her short Author’s Note: A wild animal can be a friend, even if you never share a word.
The illustrations by Danny Snell reflect the colours of a parched Australian landscape: browns, olives, ochre; but also the welcome cool blue of a billabong when rain does come.
The Drought Kangaroo is published by Angus & Robertson, an imprint of HarperCollins Children’s Books, in October 2025.
Ash Barty, tennis star turned inspiration for children’s books, offers a celebration of the joys of a beachside camping holiday with family and friends, in My Dream Holiday, written with Jasmin McGaughey and illustrated by Jade Goodwin.
Every sizzling summer, my family travels to Minjerribah (North Stradbroke Island) for our dream holiday. We are excited to meet our cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents there.
We will spend days doing all of our favourite things while exploring the beach, bush and creeks.I wonder if fewer children nowadays experience the fun of a camping holiday? Any kids who’ve not had this experience will no doubt want to after reading this book, filled as it is with tents, a campfire, beach games, snorkelling, footy and fishing. And at night, telling scary stories and then sleeping curled up tight in a tent with your pet.
It’s a bright, colourful book that oozes the charms of familiar summer holidays in a familiar place, surrounded by the people you love.
My Dream Holiday was published by HarperCollins Children’s Books in September 2025.
My Story, Our Country: A First Nations Family History is a follow up to Learning Country: A First Nations Journey Around Australia’s Traditional Place Names, by Gudanji/Wakaja artist and storyteller Ryhia Dank. Here, the author explores her own family stories and experiences, reflecting on culture, language, traditional practices. Of course it also encompasses some historical as well as contemporary perspectives.
The narrative includes both celebratory and destructive realities: the loss of traditional land management practices (now being revived) and healthy traditional foods; modern adaptations of cultural practices (from body scarring to tattooing, for example); the hurt and sadness caused by the government policy of removal of indigenous children from their families; the theft of artefacts by explorers and settlers and the long campaigns to have them returned.
The strong theme throughout is
We may look and sound different to our ancestors, but we are the same too. We are still strong, still here and still Aboriginal.
The artwork is beautiful: traditional motifs and design features tell the story of the book in a visual language but the pictures also incorporate text and contemporary images to make a fascinating meld.
One other point I will make about this book is that, despite being in picture book format, it is not really a book for very young readers. The language and concepts are better suited to older children, middle-grade ages for example.
It is a beautiful way to introduce, or reinforce, important ideas and perspectives about Australia, its past and present, and hope for our collective future.
My Story, Our Country is published by Harper By Design in October 2025.
My thanks to the publishers for review copies of these new books. Look out for them in your local library or bookstore.
Contested stories: ‘Warra Warra Wai’ by Darren Rix & Craig Cormick
If, like me, you grew up with stories of ‘Captain Cook’ and his heroic voyages around the world, ‘discovering’ ‘claiming’ and ‘naming’ great swathes of the Pacific region including the continent now known as Australia, Warra Warra Wai will be an eye-opening read.
With its subtitle – one of the best I have ever seen – (How Indigenous Australians discovered Captain Cook and what they tell about the coming of the Ghost People) the authors make clear that this book, while tracing Cook’s voyage up the entire east coast of Australia, will be focused on the stories from the shore: what has been remembered, handed down, and/or written about from the perspectives of the First Peoples encountered by those on board the Endeavour.
Flipping the usual script allows for a rich exploration of those people, their Countries, languages, lifestyles, law and lore. What did they make of the strange ship and its passengers? What beliefs, customs and protocols dictated the ways in which these newcomers were met by the people on the shore? And what followed this first contact – the years and decades in which more white people arrived and the consequences for the land and its First Peoples.
The authors (Gunditjmara-GunaiKurnai radio broadcaster and culture sites officer Darren Rix, and author and science communicator Craig Cormick) set out with a seemingly simple goal: visit all of the places on the east coast renamed by James Cook, put back the original names, and ask the First Nations people there what stories they wanted to share. As simple as that. Just ask them. (p1)
Simple, and profound.
The result is a stunning ‘travel memoir’ of sorts, meeting people who act as guides to their Country, their Creation stories and cultural practices, the law that has guided their people for thousands of years. They also describe their histories since European contact, most of which is, unsurprisingly, grim: disease; violence; theft; rape; forced removal of family; forced removal from traditional homelands; forced discontinuation of traditional lifestyles, religious practices, language; thinly disguised slavery; to name the more obvious ones.
There are commonalities, apart from the dreadful violence and mistreatment. For example, all the stories of the first sightings of the English ship include the fact that each of the groups along that shoreline knew about the strange arrival ahead of time, through smoke signals and other communication from the people further south.
There are multiple interpretations of events and behaviours: those recorded in Cook’s journal, the ship’s logs, or the journals of the two other men on board who write about events as they occured, and those from oral histories of the First People involved. As the authors point out,
So what does it all mean? Well, it probably means that because most people cherrypick the information that agrees with their biases and opinions, different readers will conclude that the arguments support their own point of view on the matter.
Warra Warra Wai p299
There are many ‘what if?’ or sliding door moments, where if one or more of the people involved had chosen a different behaviour, or understood a little more about what they were seeing/hearing, or given events a slightly different interpretation, history could have played out rather differently. I find those moments rather sad to contemplate: missed opportunities, I suppose.
There are stories of resilience, strength, resistance. Of slowly reclaiming language and culture. Of acts of kindness and reconciliation. Of truth-telling and of people willing to listen.
The use of the word ‘renaming’ for Cook’s bestowing English names on the places he sailed past reinforces the fact that everywhere he looked was already know, beloved, sometimes sacred Country to its First Peoples. It was not empty land waiting to be discovered and claimed by white people.
Since the High Court ruling on the Mabo case, the terra nullius fallacy is no longer widely held, but so many others remain. This book is an accessible and enlightening way to learn more about Australian history – from both sides of the shore – and reconsider some of the more contested stories of our national beginning.
As is often the case, the First People interviewed for this book demonstrate generosity of spirit and a desire to reach out across the cultural divide. When asked what he most wanted Australians to know, one interviewee, Phil Rist (a Nywaigi man living in Cardwell, across from Munamudanamy or Hinchinbrook Island) had a reply that sweeps aside all the complexity of the past:
It’s not about race, it’s about need. If we agree that this is the oldest living continuing culture in the world, so how do we protect that?
Warra Warra Wai p229
If you are going to be travelling through any parts of the eastern coastal country of Australia, I would suggest taking this book with you. It will give you insights, stories and understandings that most travel guides cannot provide.
Warra Warra Wai was published by Scribner in 2024.
Island life: ‘Spirit of the Crocodile’ by Aaron Fa’Aoso & Michelle Scott Tucker with Lyn White
A middle-grade story about a youngster growing up on Saibai Island in the Torres Strait, this well-told yarn skilfully introduces aspects of daily life and the unique Torres Strait culture in a lively and relateable way.
Ezra is twelve, and he and his best mate Mason love their life on Saibai, where they fish, go to school, play sport, learn Island dance and song, and try (sometimes unsuccessfully) to stay out of trouble.
But the school year is drawing to a close and next year they must leave Saibai and travel to Thursday Island, where the nearest high school is located. This means being away from home and family for much of the year. While Mason is keen for the adventure, Ezra is not so sure. Why can’t everything just stay as it is?
Then trouble arrives with a dangerous, out-of-season storm combined with a surprise high tide that hits the island. It poses a threat to everything Ezra holds dear – his home, even his loved ones. And he and Mason are called on to help out in the emergency. Can Ezra measure up to the expectations? It’s a scary time and even the adults around him are troubled by this disaster. Is this another result of climate change, along with the rising sea waters that may eventually swallow their beloved island?
The story opens with the excitement of a crocodile spotted on the island’s jetty. The crocodile is the totem of Ezra’s clan – Koedal – and as the novel progresses, he draws strength from the knowledge that his totem animal represents ancient power and toughness.
Readers will learn much about aspects of Torres Strait culture and traditions: food, dance, ceremony, the importance of family and community connections and ties that keep individuals strong. It’s fantastic to see a book for younger readers that focuses on a First Nations community about whom many Australians might know relatively little.
My one disappointment is that there is minimal language other than English used in the narrative. As most people in the Torres Strait speak at least two, if not three, languages fluently, it would have been a great opportunity to introduce more words from Torres Strait Creole and the Saibai language of Kala Kawa Ya.
I have a personal interest in this book and its subject matter: I spent some time on Saibai back in the 1980s and my son is a member of the Koedal clan through his father’s people. So naturally I was interested in the portrayal of the island life today and from a youngster’s perspective.
I found Ezra’s character entirely relateable to any twelve-year-old facing the challenges of growing into the teenage years, facing major change, family complications, and environmental challenges.
He makes mistakes, but by the end of the novel he has learnt some valuable lessons about himself and importantly about others and his community. He learns that it feels good to be involved and to work with others to help make things right again after the storm. He also learns that the right thing to do is usually pretty obvious.
Spirit of the Crocodile is published by Allen & Unwin in 2025.
2024: My year in books (and what’s in store for 2025)
In 2024 I participated in three reading challenges again, always a fun way to keep variety in my reading diet. Sometimes the results at the end of a year can be surprising; this is one of those times.
In the Historical Fiction Reading Challenge I undertook to read 15 books of historical fiction – I came in right on target. It is easily my favourite genre of fiction.
For 2025, I will choose that same target in this challenge.
In the Cloak and Dagger Reading Challenge, I chose the ‘Amateur Sleuth’ target of 5-15 books, and hit 14 books, so that’s a giveaway that crime fiction is another favourite of my genres. I’ll go for around that many again this year.The surprise result for me this year was the Non-Fiction Reading Challenge, where I chose a conservative target of ‘nibbler’, aiming for 6 books. Instead I read a whopping 16 non-fiction books in 2024! I’m not sure what that means, but perhaps I should choose a higher target for 2025? Well, I’ll probably aim for ‘nibbler’ again and see how I go.
I have a private challenge of my own, to read more books by First Nations authors, in any genre. In 2024 my reading included 10 works by Aboriginal and/or Torres Strait Islander writers: encompassing fiction, non-fiction, and children’s books. In 2025 I hope to equal or better that number.
As always, I am indebted to publishers, especially HarperCollins, and to NetGalley, for sending advanced copies of books for review. I also thank authors who have approached me asking if I would read and review their work.
I know it can be a scary thing to put your writing out into the world and ask for feedback. I never approach the task of reviewing a book lightly. Someone has put months (usually years) of work into research, drafting, rewriting, redrafting, editing, rewriting, editing again, and again, and again…until the finished product is finally put into their hands. For this reason I treat each and every book with the respect it deserves. And I thank each author and publisher for allowing me the opportunity to read and review their work.
So, on to 2025. I wish all my fellow readers a wonderful bookish year ahead.
Photo by Sumit Mathur at pexels What stories tell us: ‘Finding Eliza’ by Larissa Behrendt
Euahleyai / Gamillaroi author, filmmaker, lawyer and academic, Larissa Behrendt writes both non-fiction and fiction which illuminate aspects of Australia’s history from an indigenous perspective. Her writing is always thought-provoking and perceptive, and Finding Eliza is no exception.
The book takes as its starting point the power of stories to teach, explain, and create beliefs and attitudes. She takes the well-known historical event of the 1836 shipwreck of the Sterling Castle on an island off Australia’s east coast. The only woman among a handful of survivors, Eliza was kept alive by the Butchulla people of the island called K’gari (later named by the English after the ship’s captain – and Eliza’s husband – Fraser Island). She spent several weeks there, separated from other white people, after witnessing -according to her account – her husband’s death after being speared by a Butchulla man.
This story has been told and retold many times since then, including by Eliza herself after her rescue and return to England. There have been so many versions that it is difficult to know what parts are based on real events and what has been changed, embroidered or created.
The author’s focus, however, is how the stories that grew up around Eliza’s experiences, illustrate the themes and motivations of those telling them. There are elements needed for a story to work, both for those telling and hearing the story. Eliza had to be ‘good’ and the Aboriginal people ‘bad.’ She must conform to the Victorian-era stereotype of the virtuous, middle-class, loyal wife. It was commonly believed by Europeans at the time that the Australian ‘natives’ were savage, unpredictable, and prone to cannabalism – therefore, to be feared and seen as inferior.
So it is not surprising that Eliza and the Butchulla were represented accordingly in the tales that grew up around her experiences.
The Butchulla people had their own world view and beliefs. They were not just a silent backdrop to the adventures of a white woman, nor were they an undifferentiated source of threat. But in order to provide the tension necessary in Eliza’s story, they had to be portrayed in this way. The truth is that without their assistance and care, Eliza would have most likely perished on the island before she could be rescued.
…{Eliza’s} survival of the shipwreck is not the climax of this story; it is just the beginning. The heart of her story unfolds when she makes contact with the Aboriginal people who populate this land, and it is her alleged captivity by these ‘brutal’ and ‘cannabalistic savages’ and her eventual rescue that gives her tale its compelling drama.
Finding Eliza, ebook version, location 7%
The author takes this a starting point, to then explore a range of aspects of colonialism in Australia.
These include: the ‘Enlightenment’ ideals of the nineteenth century viewed alongside the dispossession and savagery of occupation and colonisation; black / white relations including sexual relations, sexual slavery and prostitution; the silence about the contribution of Aboriginal women to the colonial economy; the control over Aboriginal lives wielded by the colonists; why the trope of cannabilism held such power among whites; cultural appropriation, and how positive stereotypes can be as damaging as negative ones.
As Ms Behrendt concludes:
In… stories, we learn much more about the coloniser than we ever learn about the colonised, but by looking at them through different lenses and different perspectives we begin to appreciate the complexities and nuances of our own history.
FInding Eliza loc 89%
This is a book that made me think, review my own preconceptions about the past and the stories I grew up with. It is as relevant today as when it was first published by University of Qld Press, in 2016.
Powerful family story: ‘Tears of Strangers’ by Stan Grant
The title of this extraordinary memoir is from a Russian proverb: The tears of strangers are nothing but water. These words echoed in my mind as I read this story of his family, that is also a powerful and sometimes challenging examination of the concept of race, of Australian history, and the author’s own position within the black and white worlds of modern Australia. It’s also a call for empathy: for Australians of all backgrounds to learn and understand the historical events that have shaped us all, and to feel more than indifference at the past and present suffering of others.
It is beautifully written, canvassing his own family’s roots in both black and white Australia and the complications and challenges that involves.
He is searingly honest, writing as he does about his relationships with family members, his search for truth, and his hopes for a better future for all First Nations people. The narrative does not skirt around issues such as violence, alcohol and drug use, poverty, incarceration. He describes the so-called ‘Bathurst Wars’ and other conflicts where whites and indigenous communities clashed over encroaching white settlements, and the sickening violence that occured there and in many other parts of the country.
He describes indigenous heroes of history and more recent years, tracing the steady thread of resistance since white settlement. Contrary to past assumptions by many, Aboriginal people did not meekly submit to colonisation. We should all know more about these figures from the past, who were at the time regarded by white settlers and authorities as troublesome, criminals and threats, but to their own people were freedom fighters.
As a way to learn about these and other aspects of Australia past and present, I can highly recommend Tears of Strangers. It’s focus on the micro, on positioning one person and his family within the context of wider events and the past, allows readers to read with empathy.
Part of this search means unlocking secrets, always painful and often tragic. I hesitate now as I stare at a blank page that I know I will soon reveal perhaps more than I would like to. But the truth demands courage. I hope only one thing: that one day Aborigines can be free of the all too painful choices our blackness has forced upon us.
Tears of Strangers (loc 8% ebook version)
Tears of Strangers was published by HarperCollins in 2002; the edition I read published 2016.
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.
The ‘other’ indigenous Australians: ‘Growing up Torres Strait Islander in Australia’ Edited by Samantha Faulkner
The ‘Growing Up’ series is a fabulous suite of books published by Black Inc Books, each of which ‘captures the diversity of our nation in moving and revelatory ways.‘ (Black Inc Books)
NB: Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people are advised that the book contains names and images of, as well as writing by, people who have died.
Previous titles in the series include: Growing Up Asian, Growing Up Aboriginal, Growing Up In Country Australia, Growing Up Queer…all designed to allow for the sharing of lived experiences by people who make up today’s Australia.
This latest edition is a collection of short pieces by Australians with Torres Strait Islander heritage – sometimes referred to as ‘the other Indigenous Australians.’
The Torres Strait Islands are located between the tip of Cape York Peninsula in far north Queensland, and the coast of Papua New Guinea. Torres Strait Islanders have a unique culture and a fascinating history. They are traditionally a sea-faring (or salt water) people, though of course in the past hundred years or so many have moved south to live on mainland Australia.
The pieces in this volume, educed by poet and author Samantha Faulkner, include stories about well-known people (such as Eddie Koiki Mabo, whose High Court challenge overturned the lie of ‘terra nullius’) or actor Aaron Fa’Aoso. It also includes names I was unfamiliar with. Young and older people. Those living in Torres Strait Island communities and those who have never been there, having lived all their lives on the mainland.
The stories say a lot about how culture and language are maintained, how precious childhood memories can fuel pride in culture, the many barriers that faced Islanders in the past and those encountered today, and how cross-cultural influences have contributed to the rich tapestry of Australian life: many contributors have ancestry that also includes mainland Australian First Nations, Malay, Japanese, Filipino, among others.
Together they paint a picture of the extraordinary depth and range of spiritual beliefs, languages, dance and other cultural practices that make up the vibrancy of the Torres Strait Island people.
If, like many Australians, you had never heard of or knew much about this corner of Australia, or its people, grab a copy of this book and learn! It’s a great read and very accessible. I’d love to see a copy in every public and school library across Australia.
Growing Up Torres Strait Islander in Australia is published by Black Inc Books in 2024.
‘Women & Children’ by Tony Birch
Australian First nations author Tony Birch’s 2023 novel Women & Children was shortlisted for the 2024 Australian Book Industry Awards – Literary Fiction Book of the Year.
Set in the mid 1960’s it concerns a young boy, Joe Cluny, whose main preoccupation is his tendency to court trouble with the nuns at his Catholic school. He lives in a working class suburb with his single mum and older sister. They are a tight-knit family with the usual money problems and squabbles of families in his neighbourhood.
When his mum’s sister Oona appears at their door, Joe’s world view has to adjust to a new reality – that of violence perpetrated on women by the men in their lives, and the way doors slam when they seek help.
Joe comes to understand that there are many types of men, including Oona’s violent boyfriend and his own, mostly absent, father. There is the priest who won’t help Oona. But there is also his grandfather Charlie, and Charlie’s friend Ranji, both of whom offer a kind of companionable time-out from the troubles and mysteries of the adult world.
As Joe tries to understand the complexities of his society and the way that secrets can damage, he has to leave part of his childhood behind.
This reads like a very personal sort of novel, which the author acknowledges in his note at the end:
Women & Children is a work of fiction. It is not the story of my own family, but a story motivated by our family’s refusal to accept silence as an option in our lives.
Women & Children loc 208 of 210 (eBook)One of the novel’s strengths is its spare use of language and the way it conjures young Joe’s world, largely seen through his eyes.
Another is the bond and strength of the female characters: Joe’s mum Marion, Oona, and his sister Ruby, all demonstrate a particular quality of spirit, hints that they will survive, perhaps even thrive, despite the obstacles lined up against them.
Children who have the kinds of troubling experiences that Joe has had, need allies. Charlie and Ranji are good examples of how adults can provide alternative experiences so crucial for kids to understand that violence does not have to be part of relationships.
This novel tells a simple story that is both very old and completely current. I wish it didn’t feel so timely, but it deals with a theme that, sadly, seems to be ever present. Uncovering the silences and secrets around violence and what it does to people is an essential step to stopping it.
Women & Children was published by UQP in 2023.
