Tag: book review (Page 1 of 5)

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

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

Book review — You Like It Darker, by Stephen King

Title: You Like It Darker

Author: Stephen King

Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton/Hachette, 2024; RRP: $34.99

In the afterword to this, his latest collection, Stephen King writes that the reader of horror stories needs to be empathetic. Research has revealed that reading fiction more generally assists the development of empathy, and certainly King appears to be on the mark: how else do you appreciate a horror story if you don’t feel for the predicament of the characters who are facing the worst moments of their lives?

The collection contains 12 stories, varying in length and subject matter, but most, yes, veering to the dark side, with themes of death (whether murder, illness and age, misadventure) and loss prevalent.

The opener, ‘Two Talented Bastids’, is a surprise: not so much a horror story but quickly revealed to be more in the camp of science fiction. It also ruminates on the nature of creativity, something King touches on again in his Afterword. Interestingly, he writes a little of the process, how he often doesn’t know the ending of his stories, which may explain some of the novels – and indeed, some of the stories here – that end less than convincingly.

On the shorter side are stories such as ‘The Fifth Step’ and ‘Willie the Weirdo’, which punch quickly and take their leave. As noted elsewhere, ‘Willie’ is notable for exploring familiar ground, and if there is a criticism of this collection, it may be the absence of wow factor of significant overturning of reader expectation.

‘Laurie’ is another deviation from the darker theme, reminiscent of the gorgeous ‘The Last Rung on the Ladder’, from Night Shift, about kids and hay and death, which along with the faintly absurd ‘The Mangler’ have stuck with me since that first reading. Here, too, death, but this is a story of loss and grief, not things going bump in the night. It’s another reminder that while King is perhaps best known for his horror stories, his mastery is by no means confined to genre.

Stephen King reads from ‘You Like It Darker’

@ Simon and Schuster

In ‘Danny Coughlin’s Bad Dream’, one of the longer pieces, the supernatural element is restricted (kind of) to a prophetic dream, one that lands Danny in hot water. King acknowledges the nod to Les Miserable as a cop obsesses over Danny’s brush with a murder, with the damage done by unsubstantiated accusations a key part of the story.

Arguably the centrepiece of the collection is ‘Rattlesnakes’, a ‘where are they now’ story following on from the novel Cujo and also giving a nod to Duma Key. There’s a spooky little pram in this that will likely linger long after the cover has been closed, every bit as effective as some of the spookier aspects of The Shining.

What the collection reminds us, regardless of whether the story is but a simple idea of a few pages or a full novella, is King’s capacity to succinctly and effectively evoke character – that empathy, kicking in. Characters face pivotal moments in their lives, and King deftly invites us into their world and encourages us to walk in their shoes.

Another characteristic of King’s stories, especially here, is that characters are not special in terms of being equipped to face the challenges presented to them. As such, they are eminently approachable. A case in point is ‘The Answer Man’, the closing story and the least effective for me, being essentially a precis of the life of Phil Parker, who gets the chance to get a peek into the future. Will we be happy, he asks the Answer Man, who replies, sure, but there will be ups and downs. Which is life, really, and also this collection: as with any such assortment, different stories will strike chords with different readers, but there is diversity enough here for everyone to find a favourite.

Reviewed by: Jason Nahrung

Ballarat Writers Inc. Book Review Group

Review copy provided by the publisher

Book review – Conquist, by Dirk Strasser

Title: Conquist

Author: Dirk Strasser

Publisher: Collective Ink/Roundfire Books, RRP: US$20.95

Dirk Strasser is well known in Australian speculative fiction circles, being one of the team who founded Aurealis magazine and the marquis awards of the same name (turning 30 next year!). Strasser is also a well-regarded writer, perhaps best known for the Books of Ascension, whose latest book is the historical fantasy Conquist.

The story conjures the colonial mindset of the ‘lost world’ tradition exemplified by H. Rider Haggard’s works, with the fabulist elements of the portal fantasy interrupting the historical setting. Interestingly it was first published in instalments in Aurealis magazine, the compilation going on to be a finalist in the Aurealis awards for best fantasy novel (won by Garth Nix’s Left-handed Booksellers of London – reviewed here) (note: the awards are run independently of the magazine). This review refers to the title being published this year.

Conquist is anchored in the Spanish invasion of South America, with the protagonist, Cristobal, leading a small force into Peru in search of gold and glory, the achievements of other Spanish conquerors goading him onwards. He is accompanied by Rodrigo, a childhood friend likewise in thrall to the allure of wealth to put paid to their life of poverty, and the freed slave Hector.

Cristobal faces more challenges than the overthrow of the Incans and sacking of the fabled city of Vilcabamba: he has a rival for command in the shape of Roberto, and a driven priest, Padre Nunez, looking to spread Christianity to complete the colonial triumvirate of god, gold and glory. Then there is the dubious assistance of Incan rulers Huarcay and Sarpay, the brother and sister looking to use the invaders to further their own ambitions.

As Cristobal’s force is lured through a one-way portal into a brutal landscape peopled by two warring races who have their own politics and beliefs to be encountered and navigated – bloodily, naturally. I don’t want to lift the lid on these factions, as the unveiling of their cultures and joint history is one of the delights of the book, but suffice to say their stereotypical appearances belie a deeper conflict and less than biblical accounting of good and evil.

The story is told in the third person, mostly with Cristobal as the viewpoint character but others also filling in backstory and plotting, and interposed with first-person jottings from Cristobal’s journal, which lives on in a museum.

In the main, Cristobal’s journal articles are introspective, not plot devices, mirroring his actions and exposing inner doubts and ambitions; he admits from the outset that colonialism – or at least the greed that drove it – is a disease by which he is as much infected as his men. The conceit of the found documents falls a little short due to the use of other points of view in the narrative that, at best, could only have been reported by witnesses to Cristobal, but this is not apparent from the writings. We are left to wonder how much of the narrative we have read could have been known to Cristobal and was recorded in the found document.

Cristobal is a flawed character, doubts about his colonial greed rarely surfacing, his sense of loyalty to the soldiers he commands admirable if perhaps propped up as much by ego as duty. How he came to command, the childhood that forged his desire, are allusions, their absence undercutting empathy for him. While the hero is able to come to terms with his own shortcomings, the realisation comes at cost to those around him. There is a peace brokered at story’s end, but it comes with a terrible price, with inhabitants forced to yield part of their culture in a forced co-existence.

Strasser is no slouch, and Conquist is bound to find an appreciative audience.

  • Conquist is to be released on 30 August 2024.

Reviewed by: Jason Nahrung

Ballarat Writers Inc Book Review Group

Review copy supplied by the author.

  • Jason Nahrung is a Ballarat-based writer and freelance editor. His most recent book is the vampire novella Cruel Nights. www.jasonnahrung.com

Book review: Feijoa, by Kate Evans

Title: Feijoa — A Story of Obsession & Belonging

Author: Kate Evans

Publisher: Hachette/Moa Press, 2024; RRP $34.99

I picked this work to read and review primarily because I have two feijoas in my garden and I don’t know enough about them save my neighbour has one and I thought why not. It has been a puzzling journey. One is currently covered in fruit after five to six years of providing me with lovely exotic-looking flowers blossoming out from promising little green nubs that would then drop off the branch without going any further. The second was slashed back to its base by an overly enthusiastic gardening helper and ever since has done nothing more than slowly claw its way back from what seemed certain annihilation. Though tropical by nature, and despite my very unhealthy soil, they are doing better than I thought so I already knew it was not an ordinary tree, and this book was a chance to learn more. 

Feijoa: A Story of Obsession & Belonging is written, predictably, by a feijoa addict, one who says  in the opening lines that this fruit ‘feels like home to me’. This I get. Apricots are home to me, so this approach sounded very promising.

Though centred on the feijoa, this work is also part memoir and part travel, interweaving geography, history and cultural explorations with detailed descriptions of feijoa-based meals shared with others, a sprinkling of recipes in which feijoa is the main act, and a search for a garden lost to time.

The historical and cultural influence includes socio-economic and political history of countries and peoples where the feijoa played an important role in everyday life, and also in the wider political and economic spheres.

It also contains information about the medicinal and health use of feijoa from the indigenous peoples of different countries thousands of years old, to recent discoveries in scientific laboratories. There is also reference to the lack of acknowledgement of either this older knowledge or the peoples who shared it with others who came later. In her dedication the author writes, 

For the feijoa-lovers, from 4000 years ago to today.

Warning us that Feijoa extends far beyond the walls of scientific laboratories and our backyards, and into the lives of all the different cultures and lands on which feijoa grows and has been loved for thousands of years.

The author travelled widely in her investigations. The chapters are headed conveniently for each country she visited. This is not only a tidy way of ordering the social  and cultural contexts of the role feijoa played in each location but also allowed me as a gardener to compare what was described there with the environment mine are growing in. There I  discovered its amazing resilience and capacity to survive – which explained the miraculous survival of a near death experience of one of mine.

Kate Evans talks about her love of the feijoa

@ abc nightlife

Both memoir and non memoir components of Feijoa are supported by a substantial set of End Notes pp 287-307 containing a mix of citations and footnotes rather than being a traditional bibliography. Citations of published works are mixed with recollections or the addition of extra information supporting what is contained in the body of the work. Where political, historical, medical, cultural, social, economic, agricultural or any other non-memoir statements are made, what is said refers back to a searchable source.

Who would enjoy this work?

This work is definitely niche, even for gardeners, however it satisfies more than one niche, which means potential to please more than one reading interest.

Even if you don’t particularly like feijoa the book is interesting for its approach of exploring the world through an unashamedly besotted focus on one plant, going deeper than simply how to grow and cook it – though foodies would be interested in that too. There is useful information for gardeners thinking of getting or already having a feijoa in their garden. The travel and memoir sides are entertaining in their own right and the extended look into the wider contexts in which one piece of fruit sits was also interesting. It is also particularly pleasing for anyone who fits more than one – personally I found the combination of travel, memoir, cooking and gardening both useful and enjoyable.

The author, New Zealand’s Kate Evans, is an award-winning journalist and nature writer who has written for, among others, The Guardian, The Observer, National Geographic and Scientific American. She has also won national media awards for scientific and environmental journalism and feature writing. She has also worked as a TV producer, and a video journalist including at the ABC and the BBC and reporting from multiple locations internationally.

Reviewed by: Rhonda Cotsell, June 2024

Ballarat Writers Inc. Book Review Group

Review copy supplied by the publisher

Book review: The Fellowship of Puzzle Makers, by Samuel Burr

Title: The Fellowship of Puzzle Makers

Author: Samuel Burr

Publisher: Orion/Hachette, 2024; RRP: $32.99

Samuel Burr is a TV producer who has worked on popular factual shows including the BAFTA-nominated Secret Life of 4-Year-Olds. Samuel’s writing was selected for Penguin’s WriteNow scheme and in 2021 he graduated from the Faber Academy. He previously studied at Westminster Film School.

The Fellowship of Puzzlemakers is a story concerning relationships and self-discovery. It has two interconnected threads following two main characters, Pippa and her adopted son Clayton.

The book opens with a prologue;  here the reader is introduced to Pippa, and Clayton makes an appearance as the baby in the hatbox that Pippa has found on the steps of the Fellowship of Puzzlemakers.

Chapter One is the beginning of Clayton’s story – it is Pippa’s funeral some 25 years later. Burr interweaves the stories of Pippa and Clayton chapter by chapter to form a single story exploring the value of connecting with others.

On the bell curve of social normality, Pippa is something of an outlier, a setter of cryptic crosswords, an intellectual, single and alone. Pippa’s story is mostly concerned with her efforts to establish The Fellowship of Puzzlemakers, which she begins as a way of engaging with like-minded people. It soon becomes much more.  

The Fellowship members live in a sort of commune and make a living by creating jigsaws, crosswords, mazes, and other games. Burr has managed to draw on that tradition of English intellectual eccentricity, one of understated ability, and quirky cleverness.

Samuel Burr on his writing routine

writer’s routine podcast

Clayton lives within the Fellowship, which by this stage is more a retirement home than enterprise. He is not a puzzle maker but a chef and de facto carer for the aging Fellowship members. Clayton is  a quiet and reserved young man. Loved and treasured by those around him, but as the first line of Chapter One says, “Clayton Stumper is an enigma”.  He has never questioned his parentage, and Pippa has never told him directly.

He is somewhat reclusive and not particularly adventurous. This changes after Pippa’s funeral.  As part of her legacy to Clayton, Pippa has set him a puzzle that will challenge him and take him out into the world to find himself and his parentage.

Burr’s writing is clear, clean, and uncomplicated. At times I thought it felt too sparse, too direct – telling the reader, especially in the first half – but perhaps this was necessary to establish the context for the second half.

This is an agreeable and pleasing tale with a touch of English eccentricity.

Reviewed by: Frank Thompson

Ballarat Writers Inc. Book Review Group

Review copy provided by the publisher

Book review: A Feather So Black

Title: A Feather So Black

Author: Lyra Selene

Publisher: Hachette/Orbit, 2024; RRP: $32.99

Lyra Selene is the author of the YA duology Amber & DuskA Feather So Black is her debut adult novel.  She lives in New England with her husband and daughter.

Fia is a changeling left in place of the stolen High Queen’s daughter. The High Queen trains her to be a weapon. Fia, although eight years old when left in the princess’s place, has no memory of before. She is obviously not human but she looks like the human princess, Eala, except for her sable hair and two different-coloured eyes. She has an affinity with the forest and plants. Her only friend is Prince Rogan, Eala’s betrothed. 

Rogan and Fia find a forgotten gate to Tir na nOg and set out over almost a year (they can only cross over one night a month at the full moon) to break Eala’s curse and free her. Fia also has to find a Treasure. Early in the story Fia has a Folk creature ask her to “Mend the broken heart. End the sorrow. Give what life is left, so we may see the morrow.” This neatly sums up Fia’s ultimate task. 

The fantasy element adheres closely to Celtic tales of the Fair Folk and I only wished I’d thought to look for a glossary first instead of making up my own pronunciation for Gaelic names such as Eala and Irian. (The glossary is at the back of the book and I didn’t find it until I’d finished the story.)

The romance is equally important to, and bound up in, their quests. Fia’s tasks are complicated by her feelings for Rogan and her growing feelings for the dark Folk Gentry, Irian, who while seeming more monster than man reveals a better understanding of Fia’s nature than anyone else. Fia also learns to understand and accept her own self as her character develops and deepens throughout the story.

There is sex and violence and all that the fantasy aficionado could ask for along with a strong and steamy romantic element.

The book is 466 pages long but the writing is evocative and a pleasure to read, as this excerpt shows:

“Inside the tiered grotto surrounding the greenhouse, the world had cracked open, letting light inside. Winter branches were furred with new leaves. Crocuses in red and purple lolled their heads. The air smelled of moss and fresh beginnings.”

I thoroughly enjoyed this tale and my only regret is that I now have to wait for the second instalment, A Crown So Silver, Book 2 of The Fair Folk.

Reviewed by: Marian Chivers, April, 2024

Ballarat Writer Inc Book Review Group

Review copy provided by the publisher

  • Marian Chivers has a lifelong interest in reading and writing with her work and study involving books from children’s literature to postgraduate studies.

Book review: Forgotten Warriors, by Sarah Percy

Title: Forgotten Warriors: A History of Women on the Front Line

Author: Sarah Percy

Publisher: Hachette/John Murray, 2023; RRP $34.99

Dr Sarah Percy is an associate professor at the University of Queensland and former Fellow of Merton College, Oxford. She was also author and presenter of ABC radio series Why the Cold War Still Matters, and has written Mercenaries, another unconventional military history spanning multiple locations from medieval times to the present.

Forgotten Warriors is approached in the same way. What struck me about this work is how effectively the author tied together all the different strands across nations and recorded history to create a complex, cohesive picture of war itself and women’s roles in it. It is unstintingly relentless in its portrayal of what women can, and have done, destroying any notion that women don’t fight so comprehensively it was tempting  just to quote nothing but examples from this work. But a review needs more than just a list.  

The central theme of Forgotten Warriors, however, is not whether they were involved, but how women’s involvement in battle has been consistently and systematically concealed or misrepresented by military leaders since early recorded history. The book beginning with the example of the skeleton of a high-ranking Viking warrior surrounded by weapons and a horse being automatically identified as male for over a century until developments in DNA analysis revealed it, to widespread disbelief, to be female.

 In her research for Forgotten Warriors Dr Percy uncovers how large a role women have always played in conflict. Records show that female camp followers in European wars between the 15th to the 18th centuries, popularly described in history as wives and prostitutes, played essential support roles including feeding the armies, laundry and medical services, and fighting on the front line itself. Before them were Boadicea and Joan of Arc, and the millions of women who fought and died unnamed. Today women are fighting on the front lines in the Ukraine and Gaza, military and non military, on both sides and everywhere else a war is being fought.

The author identified a number of repeated reasons given for the belief that women do not belong in war. Among these were that it would destroy the bond of brotherhood between soldiers, that  women cannot fight, that their presence would distract male soldiers, that on the home front they would be taking men’s jobs, and finally that to acknowledge women as active participants in war was to damage the ‘feminine mystique’ necessary for peace time – at home and in the kitchen.

Watch Sarah Percy lecture on Forgotten Warriors

SAHR Lectures

What her research uncovers, however, is there are far more reasons why women are likely to be involved in war than not, that there is no real basis for the notion that women would sit passively aside while male family members, friends and neighbours went off to fight, or war came through their own front doors.

These discoveries are confirmed by what she details in Forgotten Warriors from when wars were first recorded. Some women, concealing their gender, were involved not for the above reasons but because soldiering was their chosen profession. The author also suggests homosexual or transgender women may also have found military life a safer option than civilian life. More telling is the fact that women were often conscripted, by military leadership bodies discovering repeatedly that wars could not be won without them.

There are countless stories of courage and of brutality, too many too repeat here. Some of the more dramatic include the hugely successful Russian Night Witches flying 24,000 missions using substandard bombers compared to their male counterparts, the terrifying Dahomey, and the Battalion of Death led by Maria Bochkareva. Google them.

Forgotten Warriors is not an easy read. I found it disturbing to find within it, for example, many instances where determination by military leaders to downgrade the input of women often involved putting them in dangerous situations, e.g., the  British women in WW2 who manned the huge anti-aircraft battery lights that spotlit attacking German planes. When enemy planes were caught in their sights the women became defenceless targets themselves, because women were not allowed to fire artillery while the men who did the same job could.

A confused sense emerges from history in Forgotten Warriors as it uncovers both military leaders and sometimes the men women fought beside, simply not being able to come to terms with the idea of women in wartime except in terms of needing to be protected, or inevitable victims of collateral damage. Being unable to openly acknowledge the need by women to fight for their own reasons, or essential contribution woman made when they were involved, leaves a gap it seems to have been too hard to traverse. 

During WW2 a high-ranking Russian official, Mikhail Kalinan, despite acknowledging that women’s involvement had strengthened the army and improved the behaviour of men, warned the women under his command that, post war,

Do not give yourself airs in your future practical work. Do not speak about the services you have rendered, let others do it for you. That will be better.

Betty Friedman, in her ground-breaking work The Feminine Mystique, would have loved ‘your future practical work’.

I want to stress, however, that the tone of Forgotten Warriors is one of serious military history and not a diatribe against men. Much of it is heartwarming, showing simple camaraderie between individuals fighting and suffering side by side. There are truly amazing, deeply human stories in there, celebrating both men and women at their best and worst in awful situations.

Target audience?

All those interested in military history and especially all those who believe women do not ‘belong’ in wars so they can test their understanding against what lies hidden beneath the other stories we have been told. 

Reviewed by: Rhonda Cotsell, March 2024

Ballarat Writers Inc. Book Review Group

Review copy supplied by the publisher

Book review: Yeah, Nah!, by William McInnes

Title: Yeah, Nah!: A celebration of life and the words that make us who we are

Author: William McInnes

Publisher: Hachette Australia, 2023

William McInnes is one of Australia’s most popular and well-known writers and actors.  He began his writing career with his memoir A Man’s Got to Have a Hobby.  In 2012 his book, co-written with his wife, Sarah Watt, Worse Things Happen at Sea, was named the best non-fiction title in the ABIA and Indie Book Awards.  He now has a dozen books to his name.

His acting credits include leading roles in Blue Healers, Sea Change, Total Control and The Newsreader.  He has won two Logies and two AFI/AACTA Awards for Best Actor and Best Supporting Actor.  William now lives in Melbourne after spending his formative years in Queensland.

Language is an important identifier of culture and community and William McInnes looks into the changes in the language of Australia.  This entertaining read is part memoir – a nostalgic look at expressions used in his childhood, his parents’ time and through to the present day.  The book consists of 11 chapters each examining a particular ‘time’, the language used and developed and McInnes’s thoughts and memories.  He begins with Simpler Times and Unprecedented Times (memory inducing for all of us).  He looks at Sporting Times and ends with Calling Time.  Occasionally, I thought he had lost his way but he always neatly brought it back at the conclusion of the chapter.

It becomes part manifesto in chapters like Men of Their Time where he and a best mate devise a list to guide young men in their early to mid-twenties, including their sons, on how to be a ‘good bloke’ and, I must say, if the young men of my acquaintance followed the list they would be on the right track.

William McInnes on his favourite Australianisms

@ ABC australia

McInnes is a wonderful storyteller with an insight into the human condition.  The book has some laugh-out-loud moments and a lot of quiet chuckles and smiles while still getting his point across.  As an example, a former girlfriend dumped him because he surfed like Herman Munster from a TV series in the 1960s.  Being of a similar age, I could really identify with a lot of his reminiscences.  When there was some lingo I hadn’t come across (he did grow up in a different state to me) he explains these terms neatly and succinctly. 

I would recommend this book for middle to older generations for the remembrance of a time past and the reminder that the world has moved on and so has our language.  However, it is still relevant for younger readers for some inside information into a previous time and proof that Australia is still a living language after giving the world “selfie”.  Yeah, Nah! is a particularly Australian term and I think is worth an unequivocal Yeah.  Read it in one sitting or dip into it a chapter at a time.  Make the time even if you’re flat out like a lizard drinking.  You won’t be sorry.

Reviewed by: Marian Chivers, January, 2024

Ballarat Writers Inc Book Review Group

Review copy provided by the publisher.

  • Marian Chivers is a retired librarian with a lifelong interest in reading, writing and language with her work and study involving books from children’s literature to postgraduate studies.

Book review: Mother Earth, by Libby Hathorn

Title: Mother Earth: Poems to celebrate the wonder of nature

Author: Libby Hathorn, illustrated by Christina Booth

Publisher: Hachette, 2023; RRP $24.99

Libby Hathorn is a prolific writer for children, young adult and adult readers. Her work has won honours in Australia, the UK, Britain and Holland, and she has won multiple awards and prizes. Her work has also been translated into a number of languages, and adapted for stage and screen.

Illustrator Christina Booth is also an award-winning author of seven books and has illustrated over twenty, receiving a CBCA Honour Book award for her book Kip.

Mother Earth is a beautifully illustrated collection of poems aimed primarily at children between the ages of four and eight, but there are also poems older children might enjoy. The poems’ main theme is the beauty and vulnerability of the world we inhabit, and repeated throughout is the responsibility of all of us to protect and maintain it.

My first thought was how both message and reading and/or listening pleasure would be delivered,  as this requires delicate balance given the age of its audience. If the educational component is heavy handed, the poetic element can get lost in the facts. What made this danger particularly poignant is that its message is a more important subject for its audience than the adults who will share it with them.

Children, because of their age, respond to the natural world differently to the way adults do. Consequently alongside the need for environmental damage needing to be discussed with children it is equally important that it be relayed with rhythm and beautiful words they can connect with and enjoy.

Libby Hathorn has balanced these two concerns skilfully. Sharing what is meant by the natural environment and its need to be protected is explored throughout, including gentle hints about how this can be achieved. These ideas are presented in entertaining and informative poems alerting children to the need not to take its safety for granted, and what sorts of things that can be done, e.g., the bouncy ‘Say Rubbish to Rubbish’.

The natural world is defined in its full complexity, starting with a poem that talks about how we are all connected with the natural world.

You connected. Me. Us. They.

to things unseen and all you see.

The messages about current happenings doing damage are inserted amongst those concentrating simply on how blessed we are with the world we have. A poem filled with how good it feels to swim in the ocean, for example, is followed by another that recalls a beach walk and how too many of the shells have been removed.

This technique is used throughout, introducing invasive species, the effects of climate change, wildlife loss, etc. These are outnumbered by poems sharing the beauty and magic of the natural world however, so the overall tone is one of celebration.

A poem I particularly enjoyed was ‘Valley under the rock’ which gives voice to the mysterious and unknown about the natural world, recalling to me the otherworldly feel in underground caves, and the peace evoked by the deep silence when I walk deep into bushland to where the sounds of human habitation disappear. This allows reader and listener to experiencing it not just as a collection of one-dimensional facts.

Found a rock cathedral

in mansions of green

ancient secret cavern

glistening, serene.

This book could be used both for reading out loud and for sitting reading alone with a child. The illustrations add colour, shape and movement to the words, and the vivid colours and inclusion of details both large and small in the illustrations support this as well as the size and construction of the book itself. The firm front and back covers means it is easy to hold open, facing outwards.

I practised reading some of the poems aloud and found they lend themselves well to performance, invaluable for the adult reader who is able to add that element to the reading or who just likes to put on a bit of a show, whether teacher, librarian, or adult at home. Repetition is used throughout, and rhythm, for example in the poem on how we are all connected

to butterfly, to hairy ape

to itchy nits, to slipping snake

and another about a storm:

water sobbing

in the doorways

cats hobnobbing

Though all the poems are expressed in simple, vivid language aimed at younger children, a few also include less common words to challenge, inspire and entertain, e.g., coruscant, thrum, gnarled, monotreme. Useful environmentally aware words and phrases are also scattered throughout, e.g., ecosystem, recycling, connectedness to add to children’s vocabulary.

Mother Earth invites questions thus adding to its educational value, but also – speaking as a parent here – opportunity to reassure. Practical solutions are offered, and I can see also how some questions, especially those that need to give hope, might lead naturally to talking about Greenpeace and Landcare, or positive stories like the ongoing emergence of new species.

A small warming. The poem ‘Bushfire baby’ contains a drawing of a wounded koala being given water by an emergency worker to illustrate what happens to animals caught up in a bushfire, which even as an adult I found painful to look at. There are children who might find this image distressful so it’s good just to check that page and be aware of this in relation to your audience, whether just one or a group.

In conclusion, my overall impression is that Mother Earth is anexcellent starting point for introducing children to our natural world and the issues it is facing in the world as it is today. As parent and grandparent, I think it is an attractive, entertaining and useful tool to help introduce our children to the world they will inherit.

Reviewed by: Rhonda Cotsell

Ballarat Writers Inc. Book Review Group

Review copy provided by the publisher

— Rhonda is a retired librarian, ex child bookworm and previous avid reader and performer of children’s books to her own children and later grandson, clocking up over 20 years’ reading a minimum two books every night.

« Older posts

© 2024 Ballarat Writers

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑