Tony Birch is a multi-award winning First Nations author, poet and artist. Blood was his debut novel, first published in 2011, and shortlisted for the 2012 Miles Franklin Literary Prize. I read the newer edition, re-published in 2023 as part of UQP’s First Nations Classic series. This volume has a thoughtful introduction by Larissa Behrendt, another Australian author whose work I admire.

Blood is part coming-of-age story, part ‘road trip’ novel, if a journey undertaken mostly on foot can be considered a road trip.

It’s told from the perspective of thirteen-year-old Jesse, who together with his eight-year-old sister Rachel, must endure the stresses that come with the haphazard parenting of their mother, a deeply flawed and damaged alcoholic who makes a series of disastrous relationship and life choices. The problem for the children is that Gwen is damaging as well as damaged.

Their lives together make for an almost complete train wreck of an existence, with some moments of respite provided by a couple of well-meaning characters: Jon (an ex-prisoner who, during his time with the family makes an effort to provide some care and attention for the kids) and Pop (their grandfather, who has fought his own demons but now seeks some redemption by being a better grandfather than he was a father).

Jesse has made a promise – a blood promise – to his sister, to always take care of her. While there are moments where he dreams of escaping on his own to make his own, better, life away from their mother, deep down he knows that the bond between him and Rachel cannot ever be broken.

When the pair end up facing real danger as a result of their mother’s terrible choices, their ‘road trip’ begins, as they set off on foot to find their grandfather again. There are many hazards along the way and the two kids have to rely on their wits, courage and fortitude to survive.

The characters are brilliantly drawn, the children especially so, but all of the people with whom they come in contact feel realistic, people we might encounter should we be in similar circumstances. Gwen is a difficult figure to relate to or feel warmly towards, as we witness the disruptive effects of her chaotic mind and emotions on her youngsters. Yet I’m sure many readers will have known someone like Gwen.

Larissa Behrendt points out in her introduction that one of the great strengths of Tony Birch’s writing is the way he manages to portray First Nations characters without any of the stereotypes so often seen in such stories. Jesse and Rachel have Aboriginal heritage but it is referred to briefly, almost downplayed – yet there is an undercurrent of strength that the children draw on unconsciously that is part of their shared heritage. The children’s development as the novel progresses is beautifully portrayed – Rachel, especially, turns up quite a surprise at the story’s end.

At its heart, Blood is about kinship and the bonds – both constructive and destructive – that exist even in the most difficult of family circumstances. It’s the kind of book that, were it a movie, you might watch through parted fingers, especially the harder bits, but I felt drawn to the story and its people and was propelled through the pages. I really cared what happened to those two kids on their odyssey through the Australian countryside and through life.

I was fortunate to attend a Sydney Writers Festival ‘Homegrown’ event at the State Library in Sydney recently, where Tony Birch was interviewed by podcasters Sophie Gee and Jonty Claypole from the podcast ‘The Secret Life of Books’. (If you love hearing about the context in which classic books and poems were written, the history of their creation and the writers’ lives, this is a wonderful podcast to subscribe to.) The discussion was engrossing and wide ranging and confirmed my impression that Blood should indeed be regarded as a modern Australian classic.

Blood, First Nations Classics Edition, was published by UQP in 2023.