Category Archives: Australian Books

Encounters: an Anthology of Australian Speculative Fiction

Collection of Australian speculative fiction short stories

Last year I attended my first ever Conflux, the annual Canberra speculative fiction conference. I was thrilled to present on three panels: From Paper to Screen, Sentient Flora and Fauna and Write What You Know. It was a great event and I got to see some incredible speakers including Shelley Parker-Chan. There was also a market which included a lot of secondhand books available, and this is one I picked up. I was looking for my next book in my Short Stack Reading Challenge and this was it.

Photo is of “Encounters: an Anthology of Australian Speculative Fiction” edited by Maxine McArthur and Donna Maree Hanson. The paperback book is resting on top of a program that says “Conflux 16: Natcon 60: Visions of…” and a blue lanyard with “Conflux 2022: Visions of Time, Angharad”. The cover is of the faces of two people and a simian figure, with stars, a moon and cosmic dust in the background.

“Encounters: an Anthology of Australian Speculative Fiction” edited by Maxine McArthur and Donna Maree Hanson is a collection of 22 short stories ranging across science fiction, fantasy, horror and everything in between.

While overall the stories were pretty good, there were some standouts. Although I don’t often go for vampire stories, there was something about The Flatmate from Hell by Dirk Flintheart that was very enjoyable. Una, the One by Frankie Seymour was an interesting take on the question about whether or not it is ever possible to have environmental harmony with humans. Sleeping With Monsters by Michael Barry had quickfire twist after quickfire twist, challenging our assumptions at every turn. I also really liked Guarding the Mound by Kaaron Warren, which dealt with questions of legacy and the connection between past and future. Finally, I really liked Happy Faces for Happy Families by Gillian Polack which used time travel to unpack complex issues about childhood illness.

While there were quite a few stories I enjoyed, like any anthology, there are often going to be some that don’t resonate. I think that perhaps a clear theme might have made the anthology feel a bit more united. Also, there were a few moments where I had to remember that the book published in 2004, because some of the language, including around race, is a bit out of date.

An interesting and diverse collection of short stories.

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Filed under Australian Books, Book Reviews, Fantasy, Horror, Science Fiction, Short Stories

Iron Bard Ballisto

Humorous comic about a musical barbarian superhero

I can’t remember exactly where I bought this comic from, but I think it was potentially from the creator himself at one of the Free Comic Book Days at Impact Comics pre-COVID. It looked fun and I’m always keen to support local authors and artists. It has been sitting on my shelf far too long and I pulled it out for the Short Stack Reading Challenge.

Photo is of “Iron Bard Ballisto” by Ben Hutchings. The comicbook is resting on top of sheet music and two black and one white vinyl records. Above the comicbook is a black, sparkly ukulele.

“Iron Bard Ballisto” by Ben Hutchings is a comic about an barbarian minstrel called Iron Bard Ballisto who infiltrates the multi-story building of a mysterious company called ZND. Using unlikely weapons like plectrums, vinyl records and actual song, Iron Bard Ballisto nullifies the enemies to crash the boardroom and save Tasmania.

This is a surreal, amusing story with lots of fun throwaway lines and ridiculous battle scenes. Hutchings is very creative with his use of music as a weapon, and pushes the theme to the extreme. The art style was both dynamic yet understated with a limited colour palette of blues and whites. I also really liked that there was some sheet music on the back which was fun to try out on my electric piano.

I think the only thing missing for me was clear motivations. Iron Bard Ballisto is understandably a bit wild but it wasn’t quite set out exactly why a body positive bra solutions business was harming the Tasmanian rainforest. Perhaps a bit more exposition would have been helpful (even if was as silly as the rest of the story).

A fun, ridiculous comic that was quick and easy to read.

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Filed under Australian Books, Book Reviews, Graphic Novels

Limberlost

Contemplative novel about independence, masculinity and growing up

I received a copy of this eBook courtesy of the author.

Image is of “Limberlost” by Robbie Arnott. The eBook cover is an impressionistic painting of a yellow boat and a white tree with yellow leaves. There is greenery throughout the background and yellow stripes give the impression of the boat’s reflection.

“Limberlost” by Robbie Arnott is a bildungsroman novel about Ned, a fifteen year old boy who lives in regional Tasmania. His two older brothers are away at war and Ned, his sister and his father are alone on their apple orchard Limberlost without news. A quiet young man, Ned spends his summer shooting rabbits and saving money for a secret goal. Despite the stifled wartime atmosphere, Ned builds quiet connections with people in his family and his community and, with only the memory of his brothers to guide him, begins to find his own way to becoming a man.

This is an introspectively lyrical book about a young man who, despite a rich inner life full of dreams and worries, struggles to communicate with those around him. Although Arnott puts it to the reader to decide how much of Ned’s quietness is his personality or a product of his circumstances, one thing I really enjoyed about this book was how much effort his family and community put into listening to him. There were some very poignant moments scattered throughout this book and one of the highlights was the way Arnott engaged with the Tasmanian landscape and wildlife. Ned’s experience with a whale resonates throughout the book, re-examined through different lenses of memory and emotion. At the heart of the book was the tension caused by secretly helping an injured animal and Ned’s longing for a boat, and I loved the way all the characters reacted and interacted with Ned around his decisions. The innate warmth of the characters and their actions contrasts strikingly against their stiffness and outwardly suppressed emotions.

While I was entranced by Ned quietly navigating his way towards adulthood, I found the other chapters of him as an older man less compelling. While there were some interesting insights, I felt that Ned’s summer shooting rabbits was so perfectly self-contained as a story that I would have been satisfied had it been left with that.

A beautiful and gentle story and I look forward to reading more of Arnott’s work.

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Filed under Advanced Reading Copies, Australian Books, Book Reviews, eBooks, Historical Fiction

Bila Yarrudhanggalangdhuray (River of Dreams)

Historical fiction novel about the impact of colonialism on Wiradyuri people and country

Content warning: racism, colonialism, natural disaster, sexual harassment

I have read a few books by this author and I was really excited when her new historical fiction novel was released back in 2021. I picked up a copy from Read on Books in Katoomba while my significant other was running an ultramarathon, but it has been waiting on my shelf since then. I overestimated how many books I could read during the recent Dewey’s 24 Hour Marathon but this was the second in my stack of blue books and I was determined to read it.

Photo of “Bila Yarrudhanggalangdhuray” by Anita Heiss. The paperback book is in the foreground, and in the background is the Murrumbidgee River, a brown river forking with grassy hills, lots of greenery and a sandy bank on the far side. The cover is also of the Murrumbidgee River with the river reflecting the sky, with cockatoos flying over the water and an embossed design of a lizard in traditional x-ray style.

“Bila Yarrudhanggalangdhuray” by Anita Heiss is a historical fiction novel set in the 1830s about a young Wiradyuri woman called Wagadhaany who lives in Gundagai and works for the Bradley family. Despite warnings from the local Wiradyuri people, the white settlers ignore warnings about building their town on the Murrumbidgee River floodplains and disaster soon strikes. As the waters rise, Wagadhaany and the Bradleys, who refused to leave, make their way to the roof of the house. Although her father heroically rescues many of the town’s residents, after the flood, the impact of colonialism is as strong as ever. The surviving Bradleys decide to move to Wagga Wagga and insist on taking Wagadhaany with them. Devastated to leave her family and her country, Wagadhaany must find a way to be true to herself and her culture while navigating the expectations of the various white people in the household.

This is a beautifully crafted, utterly readable story about the real and ongoing impact of colonialism. Despite the heroism, ingenuity and talent for droving displayed by the Wiradyuri people, they are slowly dispossessed of and excluded from their land. Wagadhanaay was an wonderful protagonist who grows in spite of adversity and finds her own ways to resist and connect with community. Having read “Talkin’ Up to the White Woman” some time ago, I felt like Heiss did an excellent job depicting the seemingly well-meaning, condescending yet ultimately self-serving early white feminism that ultimately perpetuates white power structures. In a way, this is almost worse than some of the blatant racism Wagadhanaay experiences and witnesses. As a reader, seeing Wagadhanaay’s labour and relationships being exploited in this way is utterly heartbreaking. However, Heiss’ use of research and empathy makes these situations completely believable. I also really enjoyed how she wove through Wiradyuri language throughout the book, and the generosity of including a glossary of Wiradyuri words at the back of the book.

A bittersweet novel that, while unflinching in its depiction of colonisation, radiates warmth through romance, family, community and culture and resilience in the face of adversity.

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Filed under Australian Books, Book Reviews, Historical Fiction

That Deadman Dance

Historical fiction about the impact of first contact between Noongar people, British settlers and whalers

Content warning: colonialism, sexual assault

Last year, even though things were a bit hectic, I decided to take part in the Dewey’s 24 Hour Readathon. I was over-ambitious, and on a whim decided to make a stack of blue books from my to-read shelves/piles.

Photo of a stack of blue books from top to bottom: “Borderliners” by Peter Høeg, “The Sky is Everywhere” by Jandy Nelson, “Breath” by Tim Wilson, “The Children’s Book” by A.S. Byatt, “first, we make the beast beautiful” by sarah wilson, “The Confession” by Jessie Burton, “Bila Yarrudhanggalangdhuray”/”River of Dreams” by Anita Heiss, “That Deadman Dance” by Kim Scott.

I decided to start with the largest book.

Photo of “That Deadman Dance” by Kim Scott. The paperback book is sitting amongst branches of a bottlebrush tree with seed capsules and thin, sparse green leaves. The cover is of a blue ocean against a blue sky, with waves caught in blurry motion breaking over rocks.

“That Deadman Dance” by Kim Scott is a historical fiction novel about a young Noongar boy called Bobby Wabalanginy who befriends British settlers who arrive at what is now known as south-western Western Australia. Charismatic, intelligent and adaptable, Bobby initially plays diplomat and straddles two cultures who are getting along more or less peacefully. He learns to read and write English, and travels on whaling expeditions, and when he returns to his people, he satirises the newcomers through dance, for which he has a particular talent. However, when his friend Dr Cross dies, the impact of colonisation becomes increasingly felt by his people. Disease, environmental destruction, disrespect, exclusion from their own land and, eventually, murder eventually place Bobby in a situation where he has to decide whether to side with the settlers, or his own people.

This is a richly written, thoroughly researched novel that explores an example of colonisation that, despite being initially peaceful, nevertheless required the exploitation of Noongar land and people. Especially through Bobby Wabalanginy’s skill in dance, Scott shows how Noongar culture is living and responsive to current events. However he demonstrates that Bobby Wabalanginy’s diplomacy has its limitations, and his aptitude for diplomacy through languages and storytelling is not, of itself, sufficient to persuade the settlers to engage in treaty negotiations. It was interesting reading Bobby Wabalanginy’s perception of whaling juxtaposed against classics such as “Moby Dick

However, despite the breadth of issues and detail included in this book, it was not always an easy book to read. The story flips back and forth between Bobby’s childhood and adulthood, and the chapters do not always feel naturally linked. Scott does not differentiate speech from the body of the novel with any punctuation, and as a reader, the sense is that you have to work hard to immerse yourself in the story.

An immersive and insightful example of historical fiction with a free form style that at times requires a lot of concentration from the reader.

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Filed under Australian Books, Book Reviews, Historical Fiction

Wildwood Dancing

Historical fantasy retelling of the fairytale “The Twelve Dancing Princesses

Content warning: sexual harassment, controlling behaviour

After a very heavy audiobook and a bit of a hard time, I was in the market for a book that I knew would be heartfelt, enjoyable and have a (hopefully) happy ending and Juliet Marillier never disappoints.

Photo is of “Wildwood Dancing” by Juliet Marillier. The paperback book is resting in a bush of purple flowers between two purple and red shoes at night time. The cover is of a young woman in an elaborate satin dress and gloves, in a nightscape of tiny creatures, flowers and woodland.

“Wildwood Dancing” by Juliet Marillier is a historical fantasy novel and a retelling of the fairy tale “The Twelve Dancing Princesses“. The story is about Jena, the second of five sisters who live an idyllic life in Transylvania and secretly visit another realm every full moon and dance all night with members of the magical court there. When their father goes away to recover from an illness, the older sisters are left in charge of the household and the family business under the supervision of their father’s cousin. Initially, things go well and level-headed Jena has things under control, even if people occasionally look at her a little askance with her pet frog Gogu. However, after tragedy hits, Jena finds that things are not going so well and finds it harder and hard to resist her second cousin Cezar’s attempts to take control of the situation. In her efforts to try to get things back on track, things get even worse and soon her eldest sister, the Other Kingdom and even Gogu are at risk.

This was a sweet, enjoyable book that took the famous setting of “Dracula” and reimagined it as a beautiful, magical forest setting. I really enjoyed the visits to the Other Kingdom and the warmth of the characters the sisters meet there. Jena was a very relatable character, eager to take on adult responsibilities but struggling to let go of the naiveté of her childhood. The onslaught of Cezar’s controlling behaviour was done really well, and Marillier captured the nuance of how small transgressions can soon turn into abusive behaviour. The prejudice expressed against the Night People provided an interesting overlay to the story.

Although this book was very enjoyable and was similar in style to many of Marillier’s other lovely stories, I felt that it was coded slightly younger than some of her other books I have read. There were some reveals that didn’t feel as surprising to me as in previous books, and I wasn’t sure if that was because the audience was intended to be a bit younger or not.

A sweet story full of heart that brought a traditional fairytale to life.

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Filed under Australian Books, Book Reviews, Fantasy, Historical Fiction, Young Adult

Bedtime Story

Memoir about a mother trying to explain cancer to her son

Content warning: death, cancer

There has been a lot of loss in my family this year. When looking for my next audiobook to keep me company while running and gardening, I came across this one. Although I read one of this author’s books previously and didn’t love it, I thought that something to help me make sense of grief would be helpful.

Image is of “Bedtime Story” by Chloe Hooper. The audiobook cover is of a starry sky with copper coloured text over the top.

“Bedtime Story” by Chloe Hooper and narrated by Lisa McCune is a memoir about Hooper’s partner’s cancer diagnosis. Narrated in the second person to her eldest son, Hooper turns to children’s literature to try to find a way to explain the diagnosis to her children. However, she soon finds that most children’s literature is manifestly inadequate when it comes to explaining death and mortality. As her partner grows more unwell as treatment progresses, Hooper puts off the explanation further. However, she finds that her son picks up more than she thinks and finds his own ways of making sense of what is happening to their family.

This is a thoughtful, gentle book that grapples with how we break terrible news to children. I enjoyed Hooper’s exploration of different examples of children’s literature and they ways in which they do (or do not) deal with death. Second person narratives are a relatively unusual form of storytelling and one that I think worked well for the subject-matter. McCune’s narration captured the tone really well. It is matter of fact but sensitive, soft but clear.

I think this was probably not the right book for me at this time. I think this is a book for someone who is pre-grief; who is dealing with life-shattering news but the axe has not yet fallen. Someone who is dealing with waiting and who is hoping for the best but expecting the worst. I realised too late that this book is actually illustrated and for that reason alone, I do regret listening to the audiobook version because of course they weren’t included.

An introspective story about dealing with difficult news as a family.

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Filed under Audiobooks, Australian Books, Non Fiction

Amnesty

Literary fiction novel about an asylum seeker in Sydney whose visa has expired

Content warning: racism, exploitation, family violence, torture

This was one of the books for Asia Bookroom‘s book group this year that unfortunately I wasn’t able to attend this one. I read another book by this author and really enjoyed it, so even though I missed the book group I was still very keen to read it.

Photo is of “Amnesty” by Aravind Adiga. The paperback book is standing between an orange bottle of Mr Muscle cleaner and a vacuum cleaner attachment. In the background is the vacuum cleaner and in the foreground is a yellow cleaning cloth.

Literary fiction novel about an asylum seeker in Sydney whose visa has expired

Content warning: racism, exploitation, family violence, torture

This was one of the books for Asia Bookroom‘s book group this year that unfortunately I wasn’t able to attend this one. I read another book by this author and really enjoyed it, so even though I missed the book group I was still very keen to read it.

Photo is of “Amnesty” by Aravind Adiga. The paperback book is standing between an orange bottle of Mr Muscle cleaner and a vacuum cleaner attachment. In the background is the vacuum cleaner and in the foreground is a yellow cleaning cloth.

“Amnesty” by Aravind Adiga is a literary fiction novel about a young man known as Danny who lives in Sydney and works as a cleaner. With blonde-tipped hair, an anglicised nickname, a local girlfriend and his portable vacuum cleaner, Danny has been working hard to make a new life for himself after his application for refugee status as a Sri Lankan was denied and his temporary visa expired. Danny spends his days cleaning, meeting up with his girlfriend and dealing with his landlord whose shop he lives on top of. However, one day, Danny finds out that one of his clients has died and that police are involved. Danny gets a call from the doctor she was having an affair with to come clean the apartment she was let him stay in. He keeps calling and calling and Danny is faced with a difficult choice: go to the police and have his visa status discovered or do nothing.

This was a tense, cramped type of book that follows the events of a single day. Adiga uses an interesting narrative structure where the books is broken down into elapsing periods of time, sometimes as small as a single minute, to show how Danny is grappling with the events as they are unfolding. Agida really centres this story in Sydney, but in a Sydney that not everyone experiences. Through Danny’s eyes we see opportunity, diversity and natural beauty but we also see poverty, exploitation and inequality. This is a cuttingly insightful book that unpeels a corner of Australia’s asylum seeker policies and shows not only the hardline stance towards asylum seekers, but also how the economy is propped up by the underpaid labour of people like Danny.

However, despite the cleverness of this novel, I didn’t always find it especially readable. Adiga’s focus on the minutiae of Danny’s life was at times claustrophobic. He builds and builds the tension without relief and the streets of Sydney feel more and more oppressive.

An intelligent yet uncomfortable reminder of the way asylum seekers are treated in Australia.

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Filed under Australian Books, Book Reviews, General Fiction

The Crimson Thread

Historical fiction retelling of the Labyrinth set in Crete in World War II

Content warning: war, sexual assault, family violence, torture, sexual harassment, disability discrimination

I received a copy of this eBook courtesy of the publisher.

Image is of “The Crimson Thread” by Kate Forsyth. The eBook cover is a photograph of a young woman with fair skin, dark hair and red lipstick wearing a brown hat and navy jacket. There are figures fighting in the background and a floral design in the foreground.

“The Crimson Thread” by Kate Forsyth is a historical fiction novel and retelling of the story of the Labyrinth from Greek mythology. The book is about a young woman called Alenka who lives in Crete with her mother and younger brother. During the Nazi occupation of World War II, she is part of the local resistance. When German paratroopers land on the island in 1941, Alenka saves the lives of two young Australian men: childhood friends Jack and Teddy. However, the war is far from over and as the fighting intensifies on land and off, it becomes harder and harder to know who to trust.

This was an excellently researched book that seamlessly wove together two Cretes: the one of classic mythology and the modern one of the mid-20th century. The pacing in this book was superb. There was a lot of really challenging themes, and Forsyth knew exactly when to allow moments of tension and moments of tenderness. Some of the scenes were so poignant or full of perfect timing that they brought me to tears. The parts of the book that are hardest to read are those that are true either to the Nazi occupation of Crete or the events following Ariadne helping Theseus to navigate the Labyrinth and defeat the Minotaur in Greek mythology. Forsyth’s writing is so vivid in these moments, using motifs and metaphors that span millennia, and appealing to the universal human experience.

Alenka was such a relatable character, trying to do her best in extremely dangerous and ever-changing circumstances, including in her own home. My heart broke for her over and over. Conversely, the friendship and rivalry between Jack and Teddy was a fascinating exploration of class, disability and entitlement in Australian culture. All of the characters felt incredibly well-rounded with histories, motivations and unique personalities propelling them towards the final conflict. Forsyth has written about her experiences growing up with a stutter and writes with power, authenticity and flexibility about Jack’s stutter and how it waxes and wanes depending on the situation and his state of mind. This topic also has a particular significance to my family. During World War II, my grandfather’s twin brother’s aeroplane was shot down over Crete and never recovered. I understand the inspiration for Forsyth’s book came from her own family connection to Crete.

I have reviewed quite a few books by Forsyth on this blog, and I think this is her best yet.

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Filed under Advanced Reading Copies, Australian Books, Book Reviews, eBooks, Historical Fiction

The Orchard

Fictional podcast about a death at a mysterious girl’s school

Content warning: bullying, suicide

The time had come to choose my next running audiobook. I was flicking through the options and came across this: a fictional podcast. I really enjoy fictional podcasts and I’ve listened to more over the years than I have reviewed on this blog because I’m never quite sure if they count as books. I actually find fictional podcasts (or radio plays) easier to listen to than audiobooks: I think the extra sound editing and production makes the story more immersive, and the voice actors make the characters more distinct. Anyway, maybe I should review more fictional podcasts but in the meantime, let’s start with this one.

Image is of the “The Orchard” by Mike Jones and Mike Cowap. The audiobook cover has the text ‘Starring Eric Bana’ with a photograph of Eric Bana in a collared shirt with silhouetted images of girls running behind trees in blue light in the background.

“The Orchard” by Mike Jones and Mike Cowap is a fictional podcast about a detective and single dad called Adam Durwood who is about to resign from the force. His last case is to investigate the unusual death of a teenage boy by the orchard of an exclusive all girls’ school. His superiors are eager to write it off as a suicide but Detective Durwood is not convinced. He questions students and staff but their responses are confounding; hinting at the school’s secret history. As impartial as Detective Durwood thinks he is, something about the case is pulling him in and while he is distracted, something is pulling his daughter away from him.

This was a really eerie, well-scripted story with exceptional voice acting. There was a surprisingly stellar cast of characters, with Eric Bana as Adam Durwood, Magda Szubanski as Barbara and Gary Sweet as DI Simes. Bana in particular was a standout and captured the nuance of dogged detective and struggling dad perfectly. Each episode was only about 20 minutes or so, which was a pretty ideal length for a short run. There was quite a sinister vibe and I found this podcast really quite creepy to listen to when I was running by myself at night after work. The story covered a range of issues, and I thought one of the most compelling elements was the impact something like a catastrophic car crash can have on a family, the way we process grief and what you would do to get your family back.

As enjoyable as the podcast was, the closer I got to the ending the less convinced I was with the plot direction. I thought that there had been some really strong groundwork around the school, secret societies and the way alumni connections can be used to propel students towards success. However, the final reveal in the story took a completely different path that I found less interesting and much less convincing.

An enjoyable story with a great cast that didn’t quite land the ending.

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Filed under Audiobooks, Australian Books, Book Reviews, Fantasy, General Fiction, Magic Realism, Mystery/Thriller