Title: The Writing Class
Author: Esther Campion
Publisher: Hachette Australia, 2024; RRP: $32.99
Review: Rhonda Cotsell, Ballarat Writers Inc. Book Review Group
The Writing Class is a work that succeeds at what its title suggests. It is predominantly light reading but with moving and believable depths. This is possibly because, as a retired librarian, I am convinced of the power of the written word and the act of writing to, if not transform lives, then at least make life significantly easier or less difficult to negotiate. So I was interested in how the author would approach it. Also, as someone with a Ballarat and Creswick writing group history, I was pretty much in just from reading its title.
Irish Australian author Esther Campion has a background which includes a deep respect for the author Maeve Binchy, membership of a Tasmanian writing group, and degrees from the University College Cork and the University of Aberdeen in Scotland. She also worked in adult education and has studied environmental science and zoology. The author has written three other novels and currently lives in Tasmania with family, her beloved chocolate labrador (or in her words, ‘labradorable’), a smoochy cat and several elderly horses.
The Writing Class covers writing from form filling to creative and autobiographical. Within that framework is an exploration of human relationships set within a range of familiar and current issues. Vivian, the class leader to be, is herself struggling to deal with a major life shock: after having accompanied her husband to Tasmania, she is abandoned by him. Her story is where The Writing Class begins, alone and humiliated and preparing reluctantly for an interview with a friend who is also the manager of the local library and who has received funding to establish a writing class.
Esther Campion interviewed about The Writing Class
@ Living Arts Canberra
Vivian has a significant teaching and writing background and it is through her eyes the narrative unfolds, but this soon changes as we are slowly introduced to the people her friend has cajoled or strongly encouraged into joining the class. Among these are people dealing with domestic violence, adult illiteracy, Long COVID, some for whom English is their second language, single parenthood, ageing and, scattered throughout, severe loss of confidence. Outside the writing class sessions, some also face forced labour, sexuality issues, and parenthood trials.
This book covers a lot of ground, creating convincing and engaging characters and managing to interweave all issues within the writing group setting in a matter-of-fact style, neither dramatising nor understating the emotional journeys of each of its characters. It fits the genre of popular literature, and kept me engaged. Particularly because the problems each character dealt with are familiar and current, ones we read about in the news, law reports or case studies.
Vivian is nervous about returning to teaching and not sure she is up to what the manager wants, and her anxiety, and how she organises each class, also plays an important role in the narrative. This is not done in a dry and instructional tone but through Vivian’s calculated strategies to develop students’ confidence as the class moves forward. We see the thinking beforehand, the application and the results. Since part of the task involves the completion of an anthology by the end of the course, a central part of her approach is also the building of a team, despite its being a motley group of people of different ages and histories who have never met before. Friendships form, initial negative reactions – fearful or distracted – are overcome between the walls of the classroom. This the author does expertly, in such a way as to make the reader feel part of the class itself.
I did have one quibble and that is towards the end where Vivian thinks, in relation to the group:
If the last few months had taught her anything, it was that life was better when you said yes.
Given the severity and complexity of the issues each individual member, including Vivian, brought to the class and had to deal with outside it, I found this a bit of a pink and fluffy simplification of what makes life better – overlaying what had been quite moving and informative, and cheapening it.
It also bypasses the fact that positive outcomes were inextricably linked to the high level of support and access to other resources of those within the group, and not just the fact that they said ‘yes’ to the new experience of being in a writing group.
I can hear howls of disapproval re the above as the book does not pretend to be a serious sociological analysis. However, every reader of a particular work is going to have a different response to it and, as one of its readers, I felt suddenly let down and not a little disappointed.
So, a mixed review. I definitely enjoyed it in the lead up to the conclusion, and could not put it down, wanting to know what would happen next with Vivian, how she ran the class, and what would unfold in the lives of her writing class members. It was an easy read and the author’s background in adult education was apparent in the sections where she designed the sessions, particularly where the intention was to create cohesion in the class to make the final step of completing an anthology. Most of all I enjoyed the class as individuals, each with their own particular personalities, life experiences, and approaches. The author created people here that I felt an emotional response to.
Potential readers? It fits the genre of general fiction, i.e., one that does not fit into a specific genre like romance or thriller; suitable for young and older adults. Those who like Australian settings would like it, and also those who like an easy and entertaining read which includes a believable background with relevant, current issues and recognisable characters.
Review copy provided by the publisher
