In The Dry, an Australian federal agent is called back to his rural hometown to investigate a murder-suicide apparently committed by his childhood best friend. It turns out that his father and he were very literally run out of town years ago following another death and he is not welcome back. We follow his difficult investigation amongst hostile residents and thick secrets, while the earlier death is also revisited by him and the long-term residents, which means everyone except a handful of newcomers. It’s wonderfully grim and the long-term drought that is ruining the farmers adds to the gloom.
Tag Archives: Australia
The Strays paints a brilliant picture of a willfully bohemian family that draws in the best friend of the middle sister, who is dazzled by the unlikely goings-on of artists, so different from her own poor and conventional family. Of course, not all is well in bohemia and the family (and the girls’ friendship) will eventually explode and destroy some of the players. The separate world of children and teenagers is perfectly captured. The part of the book that does not work is the present day musings of the main character, which read like a cheap novel with canned feelings. Fortunately it’s a small portion of the story.
The author of Ugly was born with a large amor on his face and deformed legs — and parents who were initially overwhelmed (understandably) but quickly rallied to navigate multiple surgeries and the delicate business of raising a child who looked obviously different. The story is told in the matter-of-fact tone we can imagine his parents used with him, and while it talks about bullying and violence, there are also funny and kind moments, including the author’s successful quest for a sport he could play. An inspiring, candid story.
The Wicked Boy: The Mystery of a Victorian Child Murderer starts with a brutal matricide, which the author meticulously reconstructs from archives, followed by the dispatch of the murderer, aged 13, to an insane asylum, and eventually his immigration to Australia, proud service during WW1, and life as a peaceful and kind man. The detailed reconstruction of events can get a little tedious, but the book nicely recreates transatlantic voyages (with live cattle imported from the US), the uproar at how cheap crime novels may have fostered the crime (which sounds exactly like today’s apocalyptic descriptions of the internet), and the primitive state of psychiatry, pre-drugs of any kind. It also show how important it is to be able to recreate oneself. In those days, moving to Australia seemed to do it. Today, not so easy…
The Last Painting of Sara De Vos starts brilliantly, with an audacious (and never fully explained) heist of a Dutch painting right from the bedroom of a wealthy lawyer who is bored with his job and his wife. In an effort to recover the piece, he gets into an ambiguous relationship with the woman who created the copy that was substituted for the original, and the story bounces from the present to the time of the theft, all the way to 1637, when the painting was created, between New York, place of the theft, Sydney, where the forger now lives, and the Netherlands. Alas, the wonderful setup runs out of spunk and the bizarre relationship between the forger and the collector could not convince me. Enjoy the beginning!
The Dressmaker stars a young woman who returns to the small Australian town where she was raised because her mother is ill. As the story unfolds she creates gorgeous dresses for the locals and we learn, slowly, why she and her mother are pariahs. The ending was too over the top for me but I very much enjoyed the story, including a delightful police officer who steps in many times to help the heroine and her mother — and cross-dresses in the safety of his own house.
You don’t need to know anything about sewing to enjoy the story.
Solomon’s Song concludes the Australian Trilogy and is divided roughly in two parts. One continues the ancestral rift among the Solomon family, now from Melbourne where the headquarters of the family business have moved. There is little violence and mayhem there, certainly compared to the past two volumes, just lots of business intrigue, which I found to be quite dull.
The other half relates the adventures of the two great-grandsons, who are tragically of age to join the ANZAC forces of WWI. With them, we go to Gallipoli and there is plenty of real violence and death. It won’t end well.
Although I found both parts of the story somewhat tedious, the author always manages to introduce unique characters, such as the well-bred lieutenant who spends his war drawing flowers. And he can skillfully capture the emotion of hackneyed moments, such as the fear of the soldiers sitting in the boats about to come on shore in Gallipoli.