Tara June Winch’s Swallow the air is another book that has been languishing too long on my TBR pile, though not as long as Sara Dowse’s Schemetime. For Swallow the air, it was a case of third time lucky, because this was the third year I planned to read it for ANZLitLovers Indigenous Literature Week. Like the proverbial boomerang, it kept coming back, saying “pick me!” Finally, I did.
Winner of the 2004 David Unaipon Award for unpublished indigenous writers, Swallow the air made quite a splash when it was published in 2006, winning or being shortlisted for many of Australia’s major literary awards. (See Tara June Winch’s Wikipedia entry). I believe Winch is working on another novel, but it hasn’t appeared yet.
Now, though, to the book. The first thing to confront the reader is its form. It looks and even reads a little like a collection of short stories*, but it can be read as a novella. There is a narrative trajectory that takes us from the devastating death of narrator May Gibson’s mother, when May was around 9 years old, to when she’s around 15 years old and has made some sense of her self, her past, her people. May’s mother is Wiradjuri, her father English. At the novel’s opening, she is living in coastal Wollongong, which is not her mother’s country, in a single-parent household with her mother and her brother, Billy, who has a different and indigenous father. Absent fathers are, I should say, disproportionately common in indigenous families.
In fact, one of the impressive things about this debut novel is how subtly, but clearly, Winch weaves through it many of the issues facing indigenous people and communities. Poverty, loss of connection to country, the stolen generations, mining and land rights, alcoholism, drug addiction, racism, rape, child abuse by the church, imprisonment and the tent embassy are among the concerns she touches on during May’s journey. Listing them here makes it sound like a political “ideas” novel but, while Swallow the air is “political” in the way that most indigenous writing can’t help but be, its centre is a searching heart, for May has been cast adrift by the suicide of her mother. Life, which was tenuous anyhow, becomes impossible to hold together as her brother and aunt, both loving, struggle with their own pain.
This is where I become a little uncomfortable as a non-indigenous person making a generalisation about indigenous literature, but I’m going to do it anyhow, because I think I’m on firm ground. I’m talking about story-telling and what I understand to be its intrinsic role in indigenous culture. It imparts – or can do – a different flavour to the writing. Marie Munkara’s David Unaipon Award winning Every secret thing (my review) has some similarities in form to Swallow the air, and covers some similar thematic territory, but is very different in tone. Munkara’s novel also presents as a bunch of stories, with a uniting narrative thread. Swallow the air is more subtle, but nonetheless it’s the idea of stories that underpins the narrative.
What particularly impressed me about Winch’s writing is the way she manages tone and structures her story. She understands the Shakespearean imperative to offer some light after dark. For example, there’s a lovely little chapter/story called “Wantok” about family closeness which occurs after a story about a difficult work experience. In another situation, with just one word at the end of a story (“Mission”) – “Seemed [my emphasis] all so perfect, so right” – she prepares us for the opposite in the next (“Country”).
This flow – with shifts in tone that are sometimes subtle, sometimes dramatic, and with a narrative that is mostly linear but with the occasional flashback – kept me reading and engaged until the end. As did the writing itself. It’s deliciously poetic. Sometimes it is tight and spare, as in:
I do not cry, my eyes are hardened, like honey-comb, like toffee. Brittle, crumbling sugar. He puts his hand out toward me; we shake hands, a pact that I won’t be here digging up his past when he gets back.
And I’m not.
And in this description of life in the city: “Suits and handbags begin to fill the emptiness of the morning”. Other times it is gorgeously lyrical (a review buzz word, I know, but sometimes there’s no other word):
The river sleeps, nascent of limpid green, tree bones of spirit people, arms stretched out and screaming. And at their fingertips claws of blue bonnets, sulphur-crested cockatoos and the erratic dips and weaves of wild galahs, grapefruit pink and ghost grey splash the sky.
But back now to the story. As May makes her journey, we meet many characters – her brother, aunt, women like Joyce who care for her but also know when to push her on, men with whom she hitchhikes, to name a few. None of these characters are developed to any degree, but we learn what we need to know about them by how they relate to May. Most are kind, generous, nurturing. May’s journey, in other words, is not challenged so much by human barriers, but by emotional, social, political and historical ones. It is a generous thing that when she starts to understand her place, it’s an inclusive understanding, one that encompasses all of us who occupy this land:
And it all makes sense to me now. Issy’s drawing in the sand, boundaries between the land and the water, us, we come from the sky and the earth and we go back to the sky and the earth. This land is belonging, all of it for all of us.
However, while May comes to a better understanding of the land and her relationship to it, there is no easy resolution to the ongoing struggle of living in a place in which there is still “a big missing hole” created by the loss of connection to culture. It will take a long time to refill that hole, if indeed it can be done, but books like this will help communicate just what it means, and how it feels, to be so disconnected.
Tara June Winch
Swallow the air
St Lucia: UQP, 2006
* One chapter/story, “Cloud busting” was published in Best Australian Stories 2005.
18 thoughts on “Tara June Winch, Swallow the air (Review for Indigenous Literature Week)”
Fabulous review, Sue. And thanks for bringing this book and author to my attention. That description of the river *is* lyrical, and has got me hooked just with one paragraph! It’s on the TBR now. What a great reminder of how good reading indigenous writing is in NAIDOC week. Cheers, John.
Oh that’s wonderful, John. It is a special read I think. I’m sorry I’ve taken so long to get to it.
I’ve been curious about Tara June Winch’s work for a long time after reading about her sejour in Paris I think. Thanks for reminding me! Beautiful language and it sounds like very thoughtful, measured work.
Oh you’ve heard about her, Catherine? That’s great. I’m not exactly sure what she’s doing now but I’d love to see more work from her.
What a gorgeous review, it makes me want to read this book all over again:)
Thanks for your support with ILW again this year, Sue, you’re a treasure!
Thanks Lisa … and of course I’d support ILW, for two reasons – it’s your challenge and it’s indigenous literature.
As for the book, it’s truly delicious writing isn’t it. I could read it again.
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Thanks for introducing me to this writer. Will seek out the book.
Oh good Jim … And of course I’d love to know what you think. I think it may be on school syllabuses.
Great review! I read and reviewed Winch’s book for the challenge, too, and loved it. You were able to write about the literary tools she uses.
Another aspect of this book that I liked was that it takes place within the Indigenous community, rather than being about black/white relations. I just watched a video of Toni Morrison being interviewed by a young white woman who kept pushing her to explain/defend her lack of significant white characters in her books. Morrison finally gave her the response she deserved. She pointed out how racist the question was; how it assumed that whites are central everywhere. The white woman would never ask a white author to include blacks or a Russian author to include Americans. Of course, we need both books about interaction and about the community itself, but the “need” for Indigenous writers to include whites is so misguided.
Yes, good point Marilyn. I hadn’t really thought because it just seemed logical. It is also about black-white relations but at a deeper level isn’t it. I will come read your review … I remember now that you posted it on the AWW challenge didn’t you.
The more I think about it, that’s a pretty outrageous question for that interviewer to ask of Morrison, isn’t it.
Lovely Review Sue. really enticed me to read this book. It’s such a privilege to be able to get these insights into indigenous Astralia.
Oh thanks Kate. I’m really sorry I’ve sat on it so long.
Enjoyed your review very much. I loved that final quote. It is beautiful and very satisfying.
Thanks Stefanie … Glad you liked the quote. It’s gorgeous … And is just one of many.
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