Dog Boy: Winner of 2010 Prime Minister's Literary Award (Courtesy: Text Publishing)
In last week’s Monday musings I said that this series would resume in the New Year. But then the thought occurred to me: this is an Australian focused litblog, so why don’t I divide my top reads of the year into those by Australian writers, and the rest? That decision made, it seemed logical to devote the last Monday musings of the year to my top Australian reads, so – surprise – here I am again.
I never read as many books in a year as I would like to, but this year I did manage to read a range of Australian writers, including some older works I’ve been wanting to get to. I hope to achieve similarly in 2011. You never know, 2011 might be the year I finally read Christina Stead.
I’ll list the books in alphabetical order under categories (some being very short categories as we are talking top reads here).
Top recent (post 2000) fiction:
- Eva Hornung‘s Dog Boy: Won this year’s Prime Minister’s Literary Award. It’s a visceral read which contemplates the nature of humanity.
- MJ Hyland‘s This is how. I’m not really sure that we can claim Hyland as Australian. She wasn’t born here, and she no longer lives here. She did however do some secondary and tertiary education here. This is the sort of writing I love. The writing is tight, the tone is beautifully controlled, and the central character is so complex that even by the end you are not completely sure who you have before you.
- David Malouf‘s Ransom: Although I had some reservations about this book in terms of its point, I did love it nonetheless. Does that make sense? Malouf’s writing is beautiful, and I love his humanity. I guess that should be enough, eh?
Two other recent Australian novels I enjoyed this year were Alex Miller‘s Lovesong and Peter Carey‘s Parrot and Olivier in America.
Top older (pre 2000) fiction:
- Thea Astley‘s: The multiple effects of rainshadow. A re-read. I love Astley’s “imagistic” writing. This is a multiple point-of-view novel set in early 20th century northern Queensland, and deals with the emotional and social consequences of living in a difficult place at a difficult time.
- Martin Boyd‘s A difficult young man. Part of his semi-autobiographical trilogy, this book explores the challenges of living an artistic life, of being a different person in an extraordinary family in an ordinary world. Martin Boyd is a member of one of Australia’s leading creative families.
- Katharine Susannah Prichard‘s The pioneers. Won the Hodder and Stoughton All Empire Literature Prize for Australasia in 1915. It’s an historical novel exploring pioneer Australia, particularly in relation to our convict heritage, but I’ll say more in the coming review.
Three other older Australian novels I particularly enjoyed this year were Kate Jennings‘ Snake, Hanz Bergner’s Between sky and sea, and Ruth Park’s Missus.
Top short stories
Regular readers of this blog know that I enjoy short stories and try to include them in my regular reading schedule. Mostly, I read one-offs, but I also enjoy collections. I only read one collection of Australian short stories this year, but it was excellent and so easily qualifies for a top read:
- Gretchen Shirm’s Having cried wolf. Shirm is a new Australian voice. I was impressed by the tight, controlled writing she demonstrated in this set of connected stories. I hope we see more of her.
Top non-fiction
As this is primarily a litblog, I don’t read a lot of non-fiction, but there were two standouts this year:
- Kate Jennings’ Trouble: The evolution of a radical. This is the memoir you write when you are not writing a memoir. Jennings tells her story through thematically grouped writings from her past, each group introduced by current commentary. I loved her honesty and provocativeness.
- Anna Krien’s Into the woods. A history – exposé really – of Tasmania’s logging history. Krien may not have been as objective as she set out to be, but the book is an insightful read nonetheless.
I am reading another Australian book at present, but I don’t expect it to quite qualify for this list – and, anyhow, this is the last Monday of the year so there you have it…
I’d love to know what your favourite Australian reads of the year were – or, if you didn’t read any, whether my list above has inspired you to read any next year!
Whispering Gums 
I’m not sure how we’ve come to claim M.J. Hyland as an aussie too…
I’ll have to add Dog Boy to my TBR. It sounds fantastic and I keep seeing it around work.
I didn’t read many Australian authors – only four, I think… but I did love them all.
‘Things we didn’t see coming’ by Steve Amsterdam, ‘The Well’ and ‘Milk and Honey’ by Elizabeth Jolley and ‘A Town like Alice’ by Nevil Shute.
Oh, and Happy Holidays!! 🙂
And same to you Mae. Thanks for sharing your Aussie reads. I’ve read Jolley and Shute of course, but I’ve not read Amsterdam so I will add him to my TBR.
BTW I suspect Hyland’s living here for some of her formative years, and then writing a book about an Aussie exchange student in the USA has something to do with it, but, really, I don’t think we can claim her and so I probably won’t again. As for this year, it probably means I’ll list her in both my Aussie and Not, top reads!
She does have an Aussie accent, so perhaps that counts in her favour?
I couldn’t help giggling at the first sentence of your second paragraph. If the amount of books you read in a year isn’t enough, the rest of us doin’t have a hope of ever reading a satisfactory amount! I, personally, applaud, respect, and am in awe of the amount of reading you do 🙂
I’m also embarrassed about how little I know of these authors. Still, I’ve read so many of Elyne Mitchell’s novels, over and over… surely that counts for something in terms of Australia literature?
Oh, you’ll read a lot again I’m sure Hannah. There are sometimes times in one’s life when things other than reading take precedence. As for Elyne Mitchell – yes, I’m sure she counts for something!!
Thanks for the nice round-up! Whenever I go to the used bookstore I look for authors you’ve mentioned but sadly I only ever seem to find Peter Carey. Maybe Australian fiction is so loved in the U.S. no one wants to sell it to the bookstore and it is sitting on people’s home bookshelves? That’s what I’m hoping at any rate.
I do hope you’re right Stefanie, but I have a horrible feeling you’re not! I do wish people like Jolley and Astley were better known overseas … not to mention many of the others. Funny how the ones more known overseas (at least I think they are) are male – Carey, Winton, White, and Malouf (too I think). What DOES that say?
Sadly, it says that the boys still get too much attention.
Absolutely – who says feminism’s job is done?
I second MJ. Hyaland’s book. Marvellous.
Typo Hyland
LOL Guy, I’m often frustrated that I can’t edit my own comments on another blog. Surely the software people could work that one out. Anyhow, I knew who you meant! I’m up for my Hyland in the future… but my reading group is going to do This is how next year so I’ll get to do it again.
BTW, you can’t go around hogging everyone for Australia, you know.
I don’t know why not?
Favourite Australian books this year? I read White’s Solid Mandala for the first time — so, yes, that, a satisfying dense book, with allusions in all directions, the sort of book that wants to be un-knotted — and something on Lisa’s blog prompted me to start Boyd’s quartet — that was good too, although I had to stop after Difficult because I couldn’t fine Outbreak of Love. Now I have it! Found it just before we left the country! Will read it soon! Ha ha!
The Selected Poems of Gwen Harwood! Excellent! Recommend to all! Chris Williams’ biography of Christina Stead! Unexpectedly very good too! (“Unexpectedly,” because her shorter book has been so profoundly overshadowed by Hazel Rowley’s plump biog that I thought there must be something wrong with it, insufficient research, shabby gossiping. But no, she’s looser, milder, and less opinionated, that’s all.) Was glad to find Honey-Ant Men’s Love Song and other Aboriginal Song Poems, translated by various people, in a charity shop! Well worth reading! Henry Handel Richardson’s Maurice Guest — not Australia Felix but so few books are.
Worst Australian book of 2010? A reprint of Judith Wright’s 1950s short story collection, the Nature of Love. You can see her trying to work each story around so that it ends on a pregnant note, but that note ain’t pregnant, and the 1950s was far too late to be writing child protagonists who lithp. All lisping characters under the age of ten should be banished to the 1800s where they belong. Away with them, avaunt, avaunt.
Thanks for this thorough response DKS. I read The solid mandala a couple of years ago and loved it a lot. I still have more Patrick White to go, but those I’ve read to date all tend to dwell. The solid mandala is dense as you say while being readable too. I;m not sure what it is, because when I stop to think about it they are very different, but often when I read White these days I am reminded of Steinbeck. Maybe it’s the way they convey intense emotions in particular settings – not that they do it, but something in the way they do it.
I must read Maurice Guest – it sits here in the pile – and you are of course a major reason that I really feel I cannot leave Christina Stead alone much longer. I discovered that I have a book of her short stories here – I bought it some time ago and put it on the pile. I might start with that. I’ll try to remember to suss out Chris Williams. There was an interesting discussion on The book show recently of The man who loved children. I wonder if you caught it? It’s probably still on the site.
I didn’t hear it on the day, but I found it on their site afterwards. Do they take those things down? I’ve linked it to Pykk’s Christina Stead page but if they remove the MP3s then I might have to copy it down as a transcript instead.
The Williams biography makes an interesting companion to the Rowley biog because there are some things she’s picked up that Rowley has missed, and some things Rowley has picked up that Williams has missed — and Rowley tends to interpret her sources, and draw conclusions, where Williams will insert an excerpt from a primary source into her text and let it rest there without putting too much extra interpretive weight on the thing. This means that Rowley is more dramatic, her book is more tightly shaped, and more likely to appeal to the casual reader who would rather hear about Stead’s near-affair with a man in 1930 than know what five different reviewers thought of Letty Fox. The Williams book dedicates an entire page to a picture of Stead’s hand-typed notes for Man Who Loved C,, which, if you’re paddling around in Steadgeekery, is quite excitin’.
Re ABC, I think they do take them down after a while but I’m not sure exactly when … Thanks for the comparison between the two bios. They both sound to be of value. I love reading contemporary reviews of an author’s work (have just read some on the NLA site of Katharine Susannah Prichard) – but of course you have to have read the works first yourself to make that meaningful. Anyhow, keep sharing the Steadgeekiness with us.
I’ve gone back to the ABC page and downloaded the mp3, just in case. If I ever discover that they’ve deleted it I’ll make a transcript. Anyway, reading back over Stephanie’s post above, I remembered that I’d made a list of all the Australian authors I could find while I was in a secondhand bookshop in Casa Grande a few days ago. They were:
Kate Morton: The House at Riverton.
David Malouf: Harland’s Half-Acre
Colleen McCullough: [Multiple books, maybe about five or six different titles]
Shirley Hazzard: The Great Fire
Margo Lanagan: Tender Morsels.
That’s a pretty good list DKS, particularly for Casa Grande I would have thought … though I must say I’ve only vaguely heard of Kate Morton and Margo Lanagan. BTW I have a lovely photo of Round-tailed ground squirrels at Casa Grande.
This is a great round-up, Sue. God knows how I used to get my Aussie lit fix until you and Lisa came along.
I’m really intrigued by the In the Woods book – for reasons I think I’ve mentioned before – so thanks for introducing me to it.
I was blown away by Hyland’s This is How – it’s such a disturbing read but an eerie one, too. I read it back to back with John Healy’s memoir The Grass Arena and was astonished at the similarities between them. And I’m pretty damned certain that Patrick Oxtoby is reading The Grass Arena when he is is prison. If I had the book to hand I’d be able to find the reference, but alas it’s on my bookshelf at home in London.
I must make an effort to find Dog Boy, it sounds like my cup of tea.
Thanks muchly kimbofo. Glad you like it.
I suspect you would like Dog Boy, so I hope you manage to get to it.
As for Patrick Oxtoby reading The grass arena, I do have my copy but how easy would it be to find? Not knowing Healy it wouldn’t have clicked with me. OK, I think I’ve found it. He doesn’t give the title but I’m guessing this is it: “I lie on my cot and read the book. It’s written by an ex-con. The author was once homeless and it turns out he had a super high IQ and, when he landed in prison for a long stretch, he learnt to play chess and won a bunch of tournaments. It’s a very good book”.
Ah, perfect!! Yep, that’s it, all right. I think the penny dropped for me when I read The Grass Arena and Healy reveals how he’s been plagued with neck and shoulder tension his whole life — and that it can only be relieved through drink. This is the exact same condition which plagues Patrick Oxtoby.
I think the only thing that might not quite add up is the timing. This is How is set in early 60s? The Grass Arena was not published until 1988…
Ha…a bit of artist’s licence perhaps? And maybe this is why she doesn’t name the book?