Book review — Frankie, by Graham Norton

Title: Frankie
Author: Graham Norton
Publisher: Coronet/Hachette, 2024; RRP $32.99

This is the third novel by Graham Norton I have read. Graham’s writing is easy to read. I find his character portrayals readily come to life. His stories benefit from his comedic eye for character observation. That ability to cut to the literal core, the touches of irony, and the truth we all know is there, but find hard to admit to.

The story opens with Damian meeting Frankie for the first time. Damian is a professional carer, Frankie is an elderly woman confined to her apartment. She is Damian’s latest caring assignment. The reader is also introduced to Nor, the third key character. Nor is short for Norah and is the lifelong friend of Frankie. It is Nor who has made the arrangements for a carer to be engaged.

The core of the book is Frankie’s life story. It is told via a series of reminiscences she shares with Damian during long wakeful nights. Norton presents the tales of Frankie’s life as individual chapters. The interplay between Damian and Frankie introduces each chapter.

Damian is gay and probably the most balanced character in the book, despite being young. Norton uses the relationship between Damian and Frankie to tie the story together. The book opens with Damian and closes with him. The way Damian engages with Frankie is a positive perspective on the relationship between the young and the old.

Graham Norton talks Frankie

with Lorraine

I suspect Norton enjoys exploring various relationship combinations and people that might be considered outside the social norm, whatever that is. There are several peripheral characters who are lesbian. This would appear to be important to the story given the consequences of Frankie’s involvement with this group. There is a senior member of the clergy who has a ‘virgin and whore complex’, and Frankie’s aunt and uncle are teetotal repressive religious puritans.

And what of Frankie? Heterosexual certainly. But, in my mind she symbolises tolerance, trust and hapless naivety. In a way she represents the betrayal of innocence. We see this, for example, in the way she is treated by her aunt and uncle, and with the ending of her marriage.

Frankie stumbles from one unfortunate calamity to another. Things happen to her, or around her: the loss of her parents, the meanness of her aunt and uncle, her ‘arranged’ marriage, the list goes on. It is as if Norton has taken to heart the writing rule of make your protagonist suffer. That is not to say Frankie’s life is all bad: there is adventure, passion, and friendship. But while parents, guardians, lovers and other friends die, betray or desert, Nor is there as the saving angel.

It is clear from early on in the story that Nor is attracted to Frankie. We never really get into the nature of that attraction. Nor’s love for Frankie is unrequited, certainly in any physical sense. Nor is lesbian, though in the little of her story we are given, she does marry.

Frankie’s life is interesting and the telling of it is intriguing for Damian, a young man finding his way in the world. I’m sure many will love this book and find the story enduring and heart-warming.

Reviewed by: Frank Thompson
Ballarat Writers Inc. Book Review Group
Review copy provided by the publisher

Winners of the 2024 Martha Richardson Memorial Poetry prize

We are delighted to announce that the winners of this year’s contest with the theme of The Bush are:

1st prize Cassandra Arnold, To Map a Myth

2nd prize Roxeena Bidgood, Bush Pastoral

3rd Richenda Rudman, The Pioneer

Our judge, Melissa Watts made these comments in general:

It has been a pleasure to read the entries for the 2024 Martha Richardson Memorial Poetry Prize. In Australia, The Bush is a slippery, amorphous term and I was eager to see how each poet would respond to the topic. The competition provided varied responses from references to actual shrubs to ‘the bush’ as a physical location, a theoretical way of life, people who live in regional areas, concerns and issues of regional life. There were also politically-styled poems on climate change and tree clearing. The competition was stylistically varied including sonnets, elegies, couplets, ekphrastic, pastoral and free-verse poems. This wide scope, both stylistically and thematically demonstrated a high quality of work. Thank you to all who entered for the time and dedication put towards your work.

Here are the winning entries in full, with her specific comments after each one.

FIRST PLACE

To Map a Myth, by Cassandra Arnold

The Bush is a myth. 
(A whitefella-invader-colonialist-construct.)

Not quite
as distant as

the outback

but still hauntingly coloured outside the lines
for our office drones and Uber drudges.

A vast cultural backyard copper,
it will boil up your longings and dreams,
send them back to you in a scented stream to condense
in no-salt-tears on the bleak/bleached fabric of your days.


To the settlers/squatters
it was untouched (unearned) wealth: terra nullius
where man-the-hunter-and-tamer could wield the axe of progress,
cut away invisible histories, sow a crop of copied names:

Gloucester Newcastle Stroud Brighton
Adelaide Augusta Bacchus Marsh Melbourne


Clinging to lost safeties/customs, scared/scarred strangers
stamped old impressions on (their) new-claimed land.

The Bush. Like Easter and Christmas,
the phrase comes laden with glamour and baubles.
Host of picnics, summer camps, barbeques,
it is rendered both small and huge in your block-sized life.


Old charts show

nothingness


undifferentiated space

a place to get lost in

to die in

to blame


The inhabitants knew differently.
Know its seasons, harvests, shelters, risks.
Know its stories and promises.
(Already grieve its stolen future.)

The Bush.
Mutter it with me one last time, lips curved in an ironic smile.
Myths are not always maps after all.

Comments from Melissa:

The Bush is a myth. Full Stop.

From the first line of this poem, we are challenged. This first-person perspective is not a gentle invitation to a debate but rather a statement with no way out. This does not mean, however, that the poem is combative. The line spacing feeds beautifully back into the cartographic title, creating a pace in which to reflect, to luxuriate within the poetic form to allow the reader to think and consider. Unlike our ‘block-sized’, lives this poem creates a sense of scale with The Bush as a place of erased histories and copied histories. Asa place of ‘picnics, summer camps and barbeques’ but also a ‘place to get lost in/to die in/ to blame.’

The poem makes strong use of poetic devices. There is a beautiful use of assonance and strong imagery, in particular in the italicized stanzas. Certain phraseology made me stop and re-read. I particularly like ‘hauntingly coloured outside the lines’, ‘sow a crop of copied names’, and the idea of a block-sized life.’ I also admire the accomplished use of punctuation, particularly hyphens, slashes and brackets to further arguments and images.

Finally, the last line made me wonder – had I been led down the garden path? Did I fully understand the argument? This poem had me thinking long after I read it, which is a sign of a proficient poet with a masterful poem.”


SECOND PLACE
Bush Pastoral, by Roxeena Bidgood

Fading into landscapes 
of repetitive days.
Oh! remember to look outside
the habitual eyeline.
It takes a glance, just one to the side
and focus exhales to expand into
vistas beyond the linear.

And you are there, forming
from paddock’s limb
long and slender in curve of hip
and thigh of broken and unbroken
swathes of green and husk-dry grassland.
While branches bend and sway
with leaf-shed tears that fall on earth-skin
dry and curl in organic layers
to become food for trees.
Where memory threads
are strung out on morning dew-clad
strands of spider web.

Nod and bounce tiptoe tightrope walker
of yellow puffs against green
and silver light beyond gold.
That dull illusive shine
caught in transit between trunk
and trunk. One slight dip in the skin
below shoulder blade and the nape
of an elegant neck curving up to
cascades of gold woven with branches
dominating negative spaces
filled with light.

And you are there, a slanting light
to fetch silence slow as indrawn breath
and cry out in windblown heights
of sky-clad ceilings brushed by
scattered fringing and spirit-fingered
reaching of unclad branches.
With fingers gnarled by wisdom
reaching, to tap a shoulder
to tap and capture
vistas beyond the linear.

Comments from Melissa:

“This poem prompts its readers to look beyond our ‘habitual eyelines’ and ‘expand into vistas beyond the linear’ to avoid fading ‘into landscapes of repetitive days’. And what a prompt it is. The poem continues to deliver to the reader the type of beauty and peace that can be found when we look towards the bush. Full of imagery, I can see the bushland forming from a wide view at the ‘paddock’s limb’ to the minute view of ‘dew-clad strands of spider web.’ It’s impossible to rush this poem. The density of imagery makes us travel slowly as we take in colour (where the poet has so beautifully blended colour with light and shine), shape (curves, negative spaces and slanting light), and sound. I felt that the ‘you’ in this poem could have referred to The Bush, a single tree, a spirit or ancestral being, or God. This ambiguity made the poem more interesting and changing as I read and re-read the work.”


THIRD PLACE

The Pioneer, by Richenda Rudman

Inspired by Frederick McCubbin’s painting, The Pioneer (1904)

Wistfully, a woman gazes through bush
at the brindle girths of trees like ogres in her mother’s tales.
And the greens of leavesolive and sage, so dense
she can barely catch the bold sky winking,
as if to say, these trees are for taming.

Cleverness, she thinks, watching creatures scratch the earth;
they are subjects of their sovereign tree,
whose roots and shade commune to feed
and grow all in their dominion.

She is remembering the darkness she’s walked before 
the broken promises of emerald farms, their yield
nought but the shredded people in shredded clothes,
scratching the earth for seeds, for moss.

Toil on toil, the bush is cleared
for the sun’s sceptre to bless a garden,
for its body parts to make a house,
for a child to be born.

Tree by tree, the bush is sacrificed
for harvests of crops and clusters of buildings.

A man crouches before a rough wooden cross;
it marks the place
that beds the body, which rests and rots and feeds the bush

To grow and be cut down again,
in this duopoly of life and death.

Comments from Melissa:

“As I read the title of this poem I was aware that the poem referred to the famous triptych of the same name. However, I decided to use my first reading of the poem detached from my (foggy) memory of the artwork to consider if the poem worked on its own. I believe that it did that. This poem provides a third-person perspective of a woman in the bush and her personal history, traumatic and dark. Juxtaposed with the unnamed woman’s narrative is the personification of the natural world, bright and colourful – the ‘bold sky winking/as if to say, these trees are for taming’ the ‘sovereign tree’, ‘the sun’s sceptre to bless a garden’ and the bush’s ‘body parts to make a house’. The second part of the poem introduces a man crouching before a grave. Again the juxtaposition of human and bush builds to the poem’s final couplet, reminding us that like the bush we will ‘grow and be cut down again/in this duopoly of life and death.’ As a final note I’d like to add that upon reading the poem with the artwork (which is, of course, the purpose of ekphrastic poetry) I felt that the two artworks complemented each other, with the poem encouraging the reader to consider the unseen within the painting.”


Congratulations again to the winners, and to all of you who submited such quality work.

Book review — Rock and Tempest, by Patricia Collins

Title: Rock and Tempest: Surviving Cyclone Tracy and Its Aftermath
Author: Patricia Collins
Publisher: Hachette Australia, 2024; RRP $34.99

I chose this book because, like many, the news of Cyclone Tracy hitting Darwin early Christmas Day 1974 left an indelible memory, but I knew little of what followed. Rock and Tempest has been written by someone who was there. So, I looked forward to finding out more.

Despite its title, Rock and Tempest: Surviving Cyclone Tracy and Its Aftermath is mostly about the role played by the Royal Australian Navy (RAN), as experienced by Patricia Collins, who was there as a member of RAN’s non-combatant Women’s Royal Australian Naval Service (WRANS).

In some areas the reportage is like a diary, personal and revealing, but interspersed with recollection couched in the severe and exact language of the military. The shifts between are sometimes abrupt and the military language, dry and reliant, assumed insider knowledge that I occasionally found frustrating. Despite this, Rock and Tempest held me riveted to the end.

We meet the author huddling in a wardrobe, the safest place she could find as all hell breaks loose over and around her. The roaring wind force is so great that rain is horizontal, but when the fire alarms sound she obediently climbs out of the wardrobe to follow the correct procedure of reporting it to the duty quartermaster gunner. Despite the unlikeliness of fire being the main danger. Sprawling and crashing down a corridor, she makes the call, but when returning to the wardrobe, she is knocked off her feet and skids backwards down the hall – grabbing at the louvres that line the walls – propelled by the violent strength of the water cascading in.

At first these sudden shifts from unpleasant experiences to strictly following procedure were disorientating. But it worked, giving a human face to the RAN’s rigorous adherence to process, but also including instances elsewhere reflecting the freer, practical spirit of the human species that created them. Like not handing in unbroken bottles of various alcoholic substances around destroyed homes, instead putting them to use, substituting for the lack of debriefing, in the get-togethers with friends and family after long emotionally and physically exhausting days. The author’s inclusion of details like these act to humanise the factual, report-like information the author provides of her naval colleagues’ activities. Some rules need to be refocussed.

Naval acronyms are used liberally unfortunately, with no glossary to assist readers. There is also much detailed description of daily duties, equipment specifications, rules and procedures sometimes seeming only loosely relevant to Darwin and the cyclone, though very relevant to those whose work revolved around them.

Patricia Collins interviewed at the ABC about Cyclone Tracy

In the days that follow the storm, events are leavened by other small, chatty details about the RAN’s domestic, personal and social lives. Though unashamedly self-congratulatory at times, it reads as well-earned pride. People emerge as hardworking, and committed to rescue and protect but still as fleshed-out individuals rather than faceless figures whose only identity is the military force to which they belong.

Disappointingly there is less information about how Darwinian civilians experienced Cyclone Tracy and its aftermath. On reflection, however, that is inevitable. What the author experiences is shaped by her role as a Wran, which would affect how her hours and days were filled after the cyclone had passed, and also what she would recall.

Despite this, civilians are not entirely absent. She writes,

There is no doubt that that local police and medical personnel did a phenomenal job in desperately tragic and chaotic conditions … despite their own losses, they fronted up for duty day after day. Their work was shattering.

Read more about the RAN”s involvement in the events of Cyclone Tracy

Scattered throughout Rock and Tempest are other snapshot-like references to what Darwin civilians endured. Her words and what she notices are stark and dramatic, creating unforgettable images despite their brevity.

Details like an uncertain death total because bodies were dropped off at medical points without details being taken and only those identified being counted, the large number of ‘transients’ camped on Mindil Beach directly in the path of the cyclone’s approach, blood hosed down in a hospital room and running down stairs, divers finding sunken pleasure cruisers by following the sharks, people unable to find shelter cut to pieces by flying sheets of tin.

This against a shared background of RAN and townspeople alike suffering endless searing heat and the overwhelming stench of Christmas Day seafood rotting in freezers and refrigerators. And the deaths of their own.

The author also speaks of the lack of recognition for what both RAN and WRANS personnel suffered, and the suffering that continued afterwards in their lives.

One man, sent to rally the troops, told the author later:

…he had found the staff in a bad way, pointing to one man sitting in a dark corner, whimpering gently. The best efforts … were futile in easing the man’s broken spirit.

and later,

Many people who went through the cyclone reached the limits of their physical and emotional strength sooner or later. Darwin city recovered and went on to grow and thrive. Many people did not.

There is more of this and it is worth reading to get that fuller picture of things that happened outside public view once the initial aftermath was dealt with, while higher-ups up received accolades and medals. Another story in itself. Despite the disenchantment underlying the ending, however, Patricia Collins was rightfully proud in what she and those she worked beside accomplished. She was glad she was there.

Rock and Tempest is one of those rare books that will haunt the reader long after the last page. For me it’s the Wran struggling through flooding waters to report fire alarms to a duty officer because no matter how ridiculous sometimes, an ability to adhere to rules defines that particular type of people who make the difference between success and failure when our worlds break apart.

Reviewed by: Rhonda Cotsell

Ballarat Writers Book Review Group

Review copy provided by the publisher

Book review – My Efficient Electric Home Handbook, by Tim Forcey

Title: My Efficient Electric Home Handbook

Author: Tim Forcey

Publisher: Murdoch Books/Allen & Unwin, 2024;  RRP: $29.99

The Author

Tim Forcey is a home comfort and energy adviser, researcher and author. Tim grew up on a dairy farm before pursuing a career as a chemical engineer working around the globe in fossil fuels but left that industry after realising the climate crisis couldn’t wait for him to effect change from within. Following roles with government, the University of Melbourne, and not-for-profit organisations, Tim now thoroughly enjoys helping people make critical changes in their own homes.

The Book

As the front cover boldly states, this is a handbook for making your home energy efficient and electric. Given the rising energy costs, this title has got to be an attention getter. Indeed, for me, this book was an impulse buy. So, was it worth it?

In the introduction Tim outlines why we should aspire to live in an efficient electric home. Or as Tim says: this handbook shows how to stop burning stuff at home, whether that be fossil fuels such as gas or LPG, or even wood. His premise is that electrical options for heating, cooking and cooling are cheaper and more comfortable. Certainly, since I discovered induction cook tops (some time ago), I will never go back to gas for cooking.

Tim claims the key drivers for everything electric are money saved, a more comfortable home that is safer and healthier, and tackling the climate emergency. Even if you don’t agree with the last, the first three should be sufficiently motivating.

Part 1 of the book gives the reader an insight into Tim’s journey from son of a dairy farmer in America, through his employment in the petrochemical industry working for BHP in Melbourne, to an energy evangelist. There is also a summary of the evils of climate change, a little bit about Tim’s role as an energy adviser and some comments about the quality of Australian homes.

Tim spends the rest of the book talking about the opportunities for electrifying your home.

Tim Forcey interviewed for Australia’s Biggest Book Club

@ The Australia Institute

Tim’s writing style is clear, simple and easy to read. Much of it is based on Tim’s experience with his Melbourne residence, giving the book a personal feel. Tim also draws upon research and experience associated with the engineering of domestic energy consumption, and Melbourne University research.

There is a modest but adequate set of endnotes, and a good index is included.

I’m sure there would be other experts in this field who might argue with some of Tim’s opinions. A lot of the advice in this book is, I think, obvious, for example, eliminating draughts. However, I found most of the advice to be practical and achievable for the average household.

This is a great read for anyone setting out to tackle their home energy issues. Even if you are some ways down that path, it is still a good checklist.

This was the first time I saw a convincing statement of the benefits of reverse-cycle heat pump technology over ducted gas for home heating.  And considering my recent investment in heat pump technology, it was reassuring to see in My Efficient Electric Home Handbook evidence that my own unscientific observations are correct and therefore made the impulsivity of the book purchase worthwhile.

Reviewed by: Frank Thompson

Ballarat Writers Inc. Book Review Group

Book review – The Four, by Ellie Keel

Title: The Four

Author: Ellie Keel

Publisher: HQ/Harper Collins, 2024; RRP: $32.99

Ellie Keel lives in London and The Four is her debut novel. Ellie has a background in producing and playwriting and is the founder director of the Women’s Prize for Playwriting which promotes gender equality for writers in the UK and Ireland.

This book is an intensely forthright and compelling read, a story about four teenagers who attend an elite boarding school in England for pre university admission. They are scholarship students, academically bright but subjected to the extreme ramifications of class bias and cruelty. Rose, the narrator, and Marta, her co-scholarship room, both suffered the loss of their mothers, Rose just twelve months earlier. Loyd and Sami also have backgrounds of  disadvantage and are determined to make the opportunity work for them.

The four young people have to quickly adjust to the routines and unspoken rules of an institution that is steeped in tradition, bullying and privilege. They learn who to trust and who to avoid but not until they have been subjected to cruel behaviour.

Listen to an audio preview of The Four

youtube

Prior to their arrival at High Realms, a young woman died on the school premises in circumstances surrounded in silence. The dead girl’s sister, Genevieve, is a prominent and particularly aggressive senior student leader who holds incredible power within the studentship. Then, Genevieve suffers a serious  accident and is hospitalised after an altercation with Marta and what follows becomes a suspenseful and excruciating story of how the four manage to support Marta’s extreme situation. Marta is missing. They are all at risk in many ways and yet they remain secretively loyal to their friend Marta whose mental health is seriously deteriorating.

The author has a writing style that complements the telling of psychological dilemmas and trauma. She cantilevers her work, allowing the reader to understand the inner thoughts of the characters, especially the narrator Rose.

as my father and I approached High Realms in his cab, along the broad drive lined with stately plane trees, I’d felt as though my imagination was being coloured in, to a vividness and a grandeur that exceeded all my expectations … but as soon as we entered the bustling atrium with its dozens of portraits and towering staircase, my excitement had fallen away … I’d looked up and around; I’d seen the hundreds of students who exuded their confidence and beauty even more than their affluence, and I’d felt tiny …

Ellie Keel has created a powerful novel. She goes to the murkiest of situations and doesn’t try to shield the reader’s sensitivities. There are twists and turns when least expected and the suspense is all engaging. The Four is a dark book leaving the reader pondering on the events and almost dismissing them as too bizarre to be true, except the story doesn’t go away; it has relevance and truth in ways that cause a shiver to the spine.

Reviewed by: Heather Whitford Roche

Ballarat Writers Book Review Group, September 2024

Review book provided by the publisher

Book review – Colonial Adventure, by Ken Gelder and Rachael Weaver

Title: Colonial Adventure

Authors: Ken Gelder and Rachael Weaver

Publisher: Melbourne University Press, October 2024; RRP: $29.99

The term picaresque pops up a bit in Colonial Adventure, and similarly to the travelling adventurer of that particular style of yarn, our narrators here are passing through a series of locations as they lead a guided tour through the body of works exploring the colonial experience in pre-Federation Australia. Our guides here are Emeritus Professor of English at the University of Melbourne Ken Gelder and ARC Future Fellow at the University of Tasmania Rachael Weaver.

This is not Gelder and Weaver’s first expedition into this terrain, the pair having collaborated on three other titles in a similar vein, and their experience as academic researchers and collaborators provides a smooth, logically composed journey here. They keep the text accessible and kindly throw forwards and backwards to repeated references to help keep the reader up to speed without the flicking of pages.

There is a large body of work to cover – the end notes, bibliography and index run to about 60 of the 240 pages – and the authors do well to keep the tour moving across the most interesting or illustrative of examples, pausing in places to elaborate on the significant postcard moments such as the well-known William Buckley and Eliza Fraser. This pair feature in a chapter titled ‘Castaways and Cohabitants’, which delves into the presentation of their experience as dwellers with Aboriginal peoples as well as the aftermath of their experiences.

Not surprisingly given the book’s title, the ‘adventures’ here – whether journals, reportage/memoir, or fiction – are backgrounded in the way they reflect colonial thought and often the relationship between invader/occupier and First Nations people. The authors have gone to lengths to attempt to identify the names of Country on which events take place, thus acknowledging the diversity of First Nations cultures and the impact upon them. But the authors also note that ‘(c)olonial adventure was not always overtly in the service of empire’ and ‘could also transmit information about people and places never before seen; some of that information might even disturb the ideologies that colonisation relied on’.

The nationwide tour begins with explorers, with James Cook and William Dampier to the fore, and what is a foundational but fairly dry opening discussion on where such sanctioned escapades fall within the genre, before opening up to more exotic narratives of early encounters with New Holland. This is followed by four more chapters that trace the changing attitude to the land and its exploitation/occupation: ‘Transportation and Convict Adventures’, the previously mentioned ‘Castaway’, Bushrangers etc’, and ‘The Speculation of Colonisation’, which focuses on the planned settlement and opening up of the land as an economic endeavour. The latter takes in Lemurian fictions (based on lost or undiscovered civilisations), where First Nations peoples are again undermined by the ideal of a European or otherwise technologically advanced society occupying the inland of the country, with or without the fabled inland sea.

The idea of adventure is an element of discussion, wherein the picaresque style of story comes into play as a step in the evolution of the colonial experience: from explorers mapping the coastline to fictional and non-fictional roguish visitors enjoying outlandish adventures to brag about on their return home, to those here for the long haul, exploiting the natural resources in the hunt for wealth. The adventures extend to women and Aboriginal resistance fighters, too, and one of the interesting elements of these stories is how some bushrangers (both Black and white) occupied ‘liminal’ spaces in which they both opposed and supported the ruling power.

As mentioned, it’s a guide book, a starting place for researchers and the casually interested, a window seat offering an overview of the relationships between the new arrivals and the land and its people, revealing the mindset that justified terra nullius, murder and dispossession, and leaving the lingering sensation that these attitudes are not yet merely moments of history but still active currents at economic and socio-political levels.

Reviewed by: Jason Nahrung

Ballarat Writers Inc. Book Review Group

Review copy provided by the publisher

Book review — The Librarians of Rue de Picardie, by Janet Skeslien Charles

Title: The Librarians of Rue de Picardie

Author: Janet Skeslien Charles

Publisher: Headline Publishing Group/Hachette, 2024; RRP $32.99

It is 1918 and Jessie Carson, a young American children’s librarian, is seconded from the New York Public Library (NYPL) to set up a library service 20 miles from the Front in war-torn France.

She is part of a highly select group of women chosen by Anne Morgan, daughter of  multimillionaire Pierpont Morgan, and her friend physician Anne Murray Dike, founding members of the American Committee for Devastated France (also known as CARD), established in 1918. Its mission was to assist French citizens – men, women and children – left behind when the German army retreated, struggling to survive amid the human and physical wreckage of post-war regional France.

Jessie’s particular role was to establish a library service for children, delivering the escape and joy that books and stories can give to children in even the ugliest of circumstances. She had to adjust: turning ambulances into bookmobiles, conducting storytime sessions on blankets on bare ground, bringing book materials for parents as well. In doing so she also often, predictably, faced opposition from others who considered this to be unimportant, her labour needed for more practical tasks.

CARD also provided seeds and agricultural equipment to re-establish food crops,  and medical  assistance for the streams of wounded coming from the Front, and Jessie and her helpers also shared in these and many other tasks.

Anne Morgan’s silent film promoting CARD’s work in France

the findlay galleries

In another time and place, 1987 in the NYPL, library worker and aspiring writer Wendy Peterson is working in the Remembrances Department in the basement, photographing delicate old records to preserve them for the future. One of her tasks is to make photocopies of a box of newsletters written by CARD and it is there she finds Jessie.

The book moves between both times seamlessly: Jessie experiencing the horrific reality of war, from unceasing bombings to the individual stories of the people they work to help, including a sudden, terrifying order to evacuate when the Germans suddenly advance towards them, and then immediately into the ravages of the Spanish flu, and the growth of  Wendy as researcher and writer as she becomes increasingly obsessed with uncovering Jessie’s story.

Through Wendy’s work decades later in Remembrances, we see the quiet world of recording, bearing witness from records and resources that would not have existed had not libraries collected, preserved and housed them. This is shown particularly clearly when Jessie suddenly disappears from the newsletters and Wendy is forced to search further afield.

Janet Skeslien Charles on The Paris Library

an interview @ the book report network

Wendy Peterson is also attending a writing class conducted by a caustic professor where students are required to read pieces of what they are working on. This is where Wendy shares her first efforts of writing Jessie’s story. His caustic feedback includes raising the dangers inherent in Wendy’s growing identification with her subject, and in the process giving some insight into the challenges of the unavoidably subjective responses to influencing the believability of how accurately she is representing the history of another person and an organisation that did really exist.

Aiming always for the truth, she is also aware of  her desire to honour an organisation that did undeniable good and whose existence she was shocked to discover seemed to have disappeared from the many stories of courage in wartime.

At one stage Wendy says, referring to the French women Jessie worked for and beside:

Little seems to be said about Frenchwomen during the war. It’s like they were never there. From the books I checked out, you might think that the entire French population was entirely made up of men. Yet while they were off fighting, wives, widows, mothers and daughters held the country together. Genteel women who hadn’t been allowed to work or study at university were now supposed to be nurses and doctors, teachers and farmers. Livestock and machinery had been commandeered for the war effort, so the women tilled the fields like oxen. They worked to provide for their families. Is anyone writing about them? (p 147)*

Who would this book please? Those who like to read either historical fiction or autofiction (fictionalised biography) –  the genre to which it belongs – and those interested in true stories based on solid research in war settings, but not just as a dry collection of facts. There are moments of lightness to please, two romances perhaps on the risky end of that genre, but not out of place as love happens on battlefields too. The details about WWI in the French countryside match what we see on TV today, showing what it is like for those returning when the war retreats, and the enormity of the task of rebuilding homes and lives – reminding us yet again that suffering is not limited to the uglier manifestations of mustard gas, torn bodies and blood-soaked soil.

This is the third in a trilogy of books by Skeslien Charles about actual librarians during WWI, including mega bestseller The Paris Library and Miss Morgan’s Book Brigade. She has written for the New York Times and the Chicago Tribune, and is an international best-selling author whose work has been translated into 37 languages.

* This brings to mind Forgotten Warriors: Women on the Frontline, reviewed previously

Reviewed by: Rhonda Cotsell

Ballart Writers Inc. Book Review Group

Review copy provided by the publisher

Book review – The Cautious Traveller’s Guide to the Wasteland, by Sarah Brooks

Title: The Cautious Traveller’s Guide to the Wastelands

Author: Sarah Brooks

Publisher: Weidenfeld & Nicolson/Hachette, 2024; RRP: $34.99

The Lucy Cavendish Fiction Prize is an annual award for manuscripts by unagented women writers from the UK and Ireland who have not previously had a novel published. Leeds-based academic Sarah Brooks won the prize in 2019 with a draft of The Cautious Traveller’s Guide to the Wastelands, a major turning point in her writing career that has delivered the goods.

Brooks has a background in speculative fiction, both in her studies and her writing, with a PhD examining Chinese ghost stories and short stories published in a range of spec fic magazines.

Her debut novel spans genres, much in the same way the railway central to the story spans a wasteland between Beijing and Moscow. Set in 1899, the story mixes a steampunk aesthetic with the fabulous landscape that would not be lost in a Jeff VanderMeer novel. One might read a touch of ecofiction in there too, as a theme is the way in which a fantastical wasteland appears to have been exacerbated if not spawned by technology, a wild environment that the Great Trans-Siberian Express seeks to defy with its mighty train.

Aboard we have passengers, crew and scientists, the story focusing on three: solo traveller Marya, with her mysterious past and First Class ticket; Weiwei, born and raised on the train; and naturalist Henry Grey, who has an ambition to present a breakthrough discovery from the journey at the Great Exhibition in Moscow, a celebration of the latest and greatest in knowledge.

This journey is clouded by a rumoured scandal on the previous, adding to the tension and thrill for those aboard, where fear of contamination by the chaos of the wasteland is ever-present. Just to look out the windows is to risk anxiety, breakdown or worse, for something has gone amiss and nature has become scary, dangerous and unpredictable.

Sarah Brooks interviewed about The Cautious Traveller’s Guide to the Wasteland

@ the publishing post

Why ride the train? If you’re in First Class, it’s a talking point for those who have exhausted many of the other adventures money can buy; if you’re in Third, likely it’s the best of bad options. It’s also expedient for business and a fascination for the curious, such as Dr Grey, who sees an opportunity to redeem himself following a previous professional embarrassment.

Marya has her own reasons for being on board, ones that carry a high degree of risk, for amongst those on board are two representatives of the Trans-Siberia Company, akin to political officers of Communist Russia, tasked with ensuring the good reputation of the Company is not sullied by unfortunate events. For there have been events in the past, and a repeat is unthinkable. Commerce, profit and market confidence ride the rails, and these two ‘Crows’ will do what must be done to protect them.

For Weiwei, the train is home, its rhythms familiar and comforting, but this journey brings an event – and an enigmatic stranger – that will have her challenging her assumptions about this sealed world of steel and steam and those who run it.

Taking place over a little over three weeks, the story follows the three and a well-drawn supporting cast as the train makes its way towards Moscow.

The title is taken from a fictional guide that sets the tone for the story, a travelogue from which excerpts provide slices of background and set the mood: this is one of the great train trips of the world and one of the most dangerous. But not even the author, Rostov, could predict how this mighty rattler could threaten the stability of the world order.

As it turns out, Brooks’ balance of character and setting makes her a fine guide as the story picks up steam, arriving dead on time for its fateful conclusion. All aboard!

Reviewed by: Jason Nahrung

Ballarat Writers Book Review Group

Review copy supplied by the publisher

Polish to Publish Poetry Workshop

 australian bush with a creek

Sunday September 22nd, 11 am to 3 pm.

Award-winning poet Melissa Watts will show how to take your first draft from raw passion to rewarding readability.

Roll up your sleeves – this interactive workshop is designed to make your poem gleam.

Bring along some drafts and work through a range of guided activities that will have you appreciating your work in new and expansive ways. Be prepared to be challenged, you may need to kill your darlings, but the result will have you glistening in the slush pile.

Note: This class is designed to work with your existing drafts so please remember to bring them along.

Melissa will not see any of your work, nor will any be read aloud, so it is absolutely fine to bring the poems you are working on to submit to the Martha Richardson Memorial Poetry contest that Melissa will be judging.

(Read all about that here: https://ballaratwriters.com/the-martha-richardson-memorial-poetry-prize-2024/)

We will be stopping for a lunchbreak durng the session, so you are welcome to bring food to eat or go out and buy something in one of the many places nearby.

Tickets are:
Members $10
Non-members $20

Book here: https://www.trybooking.com/CUZVM

Hope to see you on the day!

Book review — The Underhistory, by Kaaron Warren

Title: The Underhistory

Author: Kaaron Warren

Publisher: Viper/Profile Books, 2024; RRP: $32.99

For the twenty or so years I’ve been kicking around in the Australian speculative fiction scene, Kaaron Warren has been been at the forefront with her long and short fiction, earning accolades here and abroad for her skilful exploration of the dark side of human experience – supernatural or otherwise. She also has a knack for taking everyday objects and surroundings and finding a cracking story. For example, two years ago she won the AsylumFest ghost short story competition with a story inspired by an inscription in a  book salvaged at a thrift store.

The Underhistory was, according to the author’s notes in the book, spawned in a collection of post cards similarly rescued and provided by a friend.

The result is an utterly compelling crime story taking place in a notionally haunted house.

Our protagonist is Pera, who has rebuilt her family home following its tragic destruction when she was nine. Killed in the incident were her immediate family, the visiting prime minister and others besides. Pera was the sole survivor, the tragedy following her through her life since. The isolated rural mansion has many rooms, and this is one of the highlights of the novel: Pera conducts ghost tours, the prefect way to reveal not only the eclectic rooms of the home and its grounds to the reader, but a guided tour to key moments in Pera’s life.

An interview with Kaaron Warren

@ the horror writers association

On the occasion of the story, the 60-odd-year-old host is showing a small group through the house when  a carload of interlopers arrives. Tension ramps up as Pera quickly divines their background, their reason for being there, and the threat they pose to her guests, herself and her home. As the lone  survivor, she does not take such threats lying down, and her psychological battle with the intruders is a masterpiece of characterisation.

The propensity for violence of the interlopers is writ large for the reader in italic sections that I am still of two minds about, as they perhaps undermine the claustrophobic tension of the story – Pera’s reaction to them, and the deft characterisation, convey the sense of compounding threat. And yet, it is the mention of these men early that sets the scene for the reader and provides an undercurrent of tension ahead of the inevitable meeting and resultant game of cat and mouse,. What is more effective: the known violence, or the inferred? A question for book clubs everywhere, perhaps. One thing is certain: Pera, long acquainted with death, is no mouse.

The mansion, with its multiple floors, secret compartments, and basement of mysteries (the Underhistory of the title), is slightly reminiscent of the Winchester Mystery House in the US, while the interlopers bring to mind the emotionally stunted specimens of the Australian movie The Boys, one of the most harrowing dramas I’ve come across.

This is a cleverly composed story, a hostage drama in a can with the house itself part of the narrative structure in both present and past. Combined with Warren’s knack for description and characterisation, it’s a fabulous read. Given The Underhistory has been published by houses with heft, it can only be hoped that the novel may introduce Warren to a deservedly broader audience.

Reviewed by: Jason Nahrung

Ballarat Writers Inc. Book Review Group

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