Australian Book Industry Awards

While we await the announcement of the Children’s Book Council of Australia Awards for 2009 in August, it is interesting to see several of the nominated titles inlcuded in other awards.

While the focus of the Australian Book Industry awards may also be on publishers, distributors and booksellers, awards are also given for Illustrated Book of the Year, Biography of the Year and categories exist for Younger Children (0-8 years) and  Older Chidren (8-14 years old). This year’s ABIA Shortlist can be viewed at: http://www.publishers.asn.au/emplibrary/ABIA_Shortlist_2009.pdf

Several notable inclusions (because they are also in the CBCA awards) are: 

A Rose for the ANZAC Boys, by Jackie French 
Ten Little Fingers and Ten Little Toes, by Mem Fox
Finnikin of the Rock, by Melina Marchetta
Home and Away, by John Marsden, illustrated by Matt Ottley
Tales from Outer Suburbia, by Shaun Tan

In the ABIA awards Finnikin Of The Rock by Melina Marchetta won book of the year for older children. Mem Fox won book of the year for younger children with Ten Little Fingers Ten Little Toes, and Shaun Tan was awarded Illustrated Book of the Year for Tales from Outer Suburbia. Details of other award winners, such as publishers and book of the year can be viewed here.

Into White Silence

‘Into White Silence’ is supposedly a historical novel based around the story of an Antarctic voyage by the Polar vessel, Raven, in 1922. The Raven is to go on an expedition, the aim of which is to map and explore parts of the Antarctic continent that are still unknown in 1922. This book features excerpts from the diary of Lieutenant William Downes, one of the leaders of the expedition. These diary portions are interspersed with comments from the narrator of the story.

From the very beginning, there is a sense of foreboding about this expedition. Most of this is initially because of the personality of the leader of the expedition, Edward Bourke. He appears to be volatile, mysterious and unreliable. He gathers around him a motley crew of men; some appear admirable, but some have dubious pasts and scant qualifications for a journey, which in its day was highly dangerous. Much is made of the fact that explorers on similar trips had died and the expeditions ended in disaster.

Into this highly charged atmosphere comes our protagonist William Downes; a man of courage and loyalty, who is a highly decorated war hero. His story is told as the voice of reason and moral rectitude. Downes also has a sense of foreboding about the expedition, which he tries to suppress, as he is given a tour of the vessel Raven as it waits in the port of Hobart. The Raven, like its name, is black and unwieldy. It sits low in the water like a malevolent beast, with none of the lightness and elegance of the ships around it.

As the story develops, our perceptions change about the expedition, the protagonist and the narrator. We realise that this is not a story from history at all, but a construct of the narrator. The narrator is perceived as increasingly unreliable and morally ambiguous. Even our hero is seen as somewhat less worthy than we thought. We begin to see him as so obtuse and lacking in flexibility and imagination, that his observations become unreliable also. The story becomes more and more disturbing and uncomfortable as the expedition descends into disaster.

Comparisons with Joseph Conrad’s ‘Heart of Darkness’ are clear, where the ship’s journey into the heart of Africa becomes a journey into hell. As the vessel gets closer and closer to Antarctica, things become blacker and more terrible. Men begin to die or get murdered. The expedition leader, Rourke, descends into madness, dragging everyone on the ship with him. References to another great and terrible sea journey, Moby Dick, with the famous Captain Ahab, are obvious. Finally, the Raven becomes hopelessly stuck in the ice of Antarctica and the ship turns into a floating coffin.

It is problematic deciding the audience for this book. The writing is somewhat slow-moving and ponderous. The action takes a very long time to get going, and can be dry reading. I sense that most young adult readers would not persist with it, and adults will find it a strange and unsettling read.

However, this said, it remains in the mind long after it is read, and brings to life the cold and forbidding world of Antarctica.

(Review by Jane Crew)

Tales from Outer Suburbia – Shaun Tan

‘Tales from Outer Suburbia’ is a loose collection of short stories, illustrated and written by Shaun Tan.  The stories are all inspired by life in the suburbs, but have many different themes and styles, and the illustrations are also a conglomeration of styles.  Shaun Tan himself has commented that “an ensemble of different stories can also evoke a single collective concept, something greater than the sum of its parts”.  What seems to bind these stories together is a combination of childlike innocence with adult wisdom and experience.

Shaun Tan says that he was inspired by his experience of being a child growing up in the suburbs, and the world of a child’s imagination.  Each story in this book is imbued with an appealing childlike feeling, often mysterious and hard to pin down.  Overlaid on this are political and environmental issues, dealt with in unexpected ways.

The book begins with the one page story ‘The Water Buffalo’, inspired by the mystery always evoked by a vacant block in the suburbs.  The buffalo is an enigmatic figure with a strange ability to be omniscient.  The drawing is marvellously appealing with the buffalo standing on hind legs, pointing with a tiny hoof.

One of the most appealing and humorous stories is ‘Eric’, about an exchange student that comes to stay.  The problem the family have dealing with Eric is common to all families who have someone unfamiliar with their own language staying with them.  Is your exchange student happy?  Are they enjoying your house?  Do they like the food?  The family don’t know the answers to these questions until Eric goes, leaving behind him a selection of exquisite little presents that commemorate things they did for him.  Added to the pleasures of this story is the fact that Eric is a tiny little person a few inches tall in the shape of an autumn leaf with legs.  There are lots of whimsical little jokes in the illustrations, such as seeing Eric sitting in the car seat belt.

Other stories deal with political issues, such as ‘Alert but not alarmed’, which has a new approach to terrorism in the suburbs; ‘Wake’, dealing with cruelty to animals; and globalisation is looked at in ‘Our Expedition’.  Some of these stories are playful and whimsical; others more serious.  This is reflected in the illustrations which accompany them.  ‘Grandpa’s story’ depicts a bleak wasteland to reflect the hard times he went through.  In ‘No Other Country’, the illustrations are designed to look like a Renaissance fresco or religious painting to reflect the European background of the immigrant families in the story.

Finally, one of the great pleasures of this book is to be found in the endpapers and contents pages.  The end papers are a conglomeration of the little doodles and sketches which Shaun Tan made over the years, many characteristic of his preoccupations and interests.  The contents page is a delight: made up of postage stamps to show the chapter names and page numbers.  The acknowledgements page at the end has an old-fashioned date-due slip and pocket, which brings back many memories to older readers.

‘Tales from Outer Suburbia’ is a book that rewards close study, as it full of hidden delights and depths of imagination.  It will appeal to readers of all ages.  It is highly recommended. – Jane Crew

Kill the Possum

‘Kill the possum’ is a novel that, in Moloney’s own words, is “not for the fainthearted”.  It is a hard-hitting realistic novel that deals with some tough issues: sexual and emotional abuse, violence and revenge.  Moloney is an author that has in the past looked at relationship difficulties in families, such as parental desertion in ‘A Bridge to Wiseman’s Cove’, cultural and racial prejudice in the ‘Dougy’ trilogy and family breakdown in ‘Lost Property’.

However, this novel is the most confronting of all his novels as it deals with family violence and the hard moral questions that arise from this.  Three teenagers are the main protagonists of ‘Kill the possum’: Dylan, whose father left when he was very young, and Kirsty and Tim, who have an abusive father.

Dylan has always liked Kirsty, a girl from his school, from afar.  He gets up his courage at the beginning of the story to go round and visit her at her home.  Unfortunately, he walks into a shocking situation and witnesses the abuse by Kirsty’s father first hand.  Kirsty’s father is on his fortnightly access visit, and he always takes the opportunity to emotionally abuse and intimidate his wife and two older children.  Though this time he does no physical violence, the emotional scars are just as damaging.

Tim, as a young teenage boy, is much smaller and slighter than his Dad, and feels intimidated, and helpless to protect his sister and mother.  These things cause Tim to stutter, binge drink, self harm and truant from school.  At the same time, a ball of hatred and anger is building up inside him, threatening to break out in violence.  Kirsty deals with the abuse by compartmentalising and pushing the bad feelings aside, allowing her to attempt to live a “normal” happy life with her friends at school.  Their mum collapses emotionally, taking to her bed and leaving Kirsty to run the house and family.

Dylan walks into all of this and immediately feels drawn in to their nightmare world.  He feels responsible to help them, especially when he learns the justice system won’t.  He develops a close but separate relationship with Kirsty and Tim.  Dylan and Tim begin to plan to murder Tim’s father, Cartwright.  Dylan feels this is the only thing to do before Tim or his Mum attempt suicide.

The title of the book, ‘Kill the possum’ comes into play when Dylan and Tim practice on a possum they have caught in their roof.  If they can bring themselves to kill the possum, maybe they will have the courage to kill Cartwright.  A shocking scene of violence unfolds when they attempt this.

The book moves swiftly to an extremely confronting conclusion and raises moral questions such as: ‘Is the killing of one person to save others justified in some circumstances?’ and, ‘Is it right to lie in court to protect others?’

Moloney has written a very important book in ‘Kill the possum’.  The characters are portrayed insightfully and the scenes of violence and abuse are frighteningly vivid and uncomfortable.  It will be appreciated by young adults who enjoy realistic fiction, but it will also be useful for all the moral issues it raises for discussion.  It is highly recommended. – Jane Crew

Frida: Chosen to die, Destined to live

In a night of horror, after weeks of fear, Frida’s family was slaughtered. With her family at the time of terror, Frida somehow survived, in spite of vicious injuries. Left alone, with horrific memories of the massacres which occurred in Rwanda in the 1994 persecutions, Frida not only survived but became a strong advocate for healing her troubled nation.

The details in this story, tragically, are very real. They explore the gradual deterioration of village friendships and neighbourhood networks at the time of racial conflict present in Rwanda in 1994. Told from the perspective of one who was there as a child, the story shows how invasive, manufactured, cultural differences can corrupt a society.

‘Between April and June 1994, an estimated 800,000 Rwandans were killed in the space of 100 days. Most of the dead were Tutsis – and most of those who perpetrated the violence were Hutus.’ BBC report, Rwanda: How the genocide happened, http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/africa/1288230.stm

 

Frida witnessed the massacre of her whole family, and somehow, miraculously survived herself. This is her story – one of numbness, anger, then determination. Why she survived and what she achieved as a result fill the pages of ‘Frida’ – a book that hard to read but worth the struggle to understand.

Hamlet: a novel

What do you do with a great story that, for some, is hard to understand? Well if you are John Marsden, you take it, and mould it into a modern shape, using characters and language that teens might find more acceptable.

When we first meet Hamlet, he is kicking about with Horatio; words at first and then a football on a grassy paddock (in Denmark). The boys play about as the average teen boy might, and discuss the state of affairs of ‘Affairs of State’ – i.e. the death of Hamlet’s father and his mother’s subsequent remarriage to his uncle.

Marsden does a reasonable job of modernising the Shakespearean tale, but at times the mix falls short. It is npt always easy to accept the change of language that exists through the novel, as Marsden strives to stay true to Shakespeare while adding the modern spin. (It is as though he hadn’t decided whether to stay true to Shakespeare’s prose or totally reinterpret for the modern adolescent.)

The modern spin also adds some disturbing twists to the classic, as Hamlet displays a dark and cruel side at times. His actions in the forest, dealing with a dying badger, portray an unexpected sadistic nature. Sensual tension in Ophelia plays her as a pawn in Hamlet’s game – an object, rather than a person, in his eyes, according to Marsden.

In ‘Hamlet: a novel’, Marsden has begun an interesting appropriation of one of the great bard’s plays. The opening chapters lure with promise. But the latter scenes seem to fade to insignificance.

An interesting read nonetheless. It could be a useful introduction to the classic, and worthy of discussion about how it compares. Be careful it might even trap you into looking further into the real thing!

Butterfly, Sonya Hartnett

You wonder as you read ‘Butterfly’, if Sonya Hartnett is reliving some of the angst of her own teenage years.

Her characters are authentic, the self-judgement of Plum makes you squirm as you identify with it, and the desire to be accepted echoes that of most teens rather well. That she has placed the story at a time when David Bowie was a pop idol, and there was no hint of computer technology (Plum’s dream birthday gift is “a teeny-weeny television inside a silver ball with little legs”), makes this seem even more feasible.

Whether or not this is the case, Hartnett has created a candid observation of the many rituals of the teen years, and the judgemental nature of adolescent relationships. She also challenges our expectations of adults to behave in appropriate ways, as she leads Plum into a friendship with neighbour, Maureen, at a time when she is extremely vulnerable – on the cusp of adolescence.

Plum experiences the usual highs and lows of the teen years, at the mercy of her friends’ comments, and lovingly teased by her older brothers. A confrontation she is destined to negotiate arises due to her eldest brother’s particular friendship with Maureen, and one which challenges all her concepts of relationships with family, friends and adults in her life.

Is Plum able to metamorphose into a beautiful butterfly? Will her beautiful neighbour really ‘begin show her how to fly’ as the blurb implies? A book that is both enjoyable and one that will make you nod your head, sadly, as it explores and reflects some of the intricacies of teenage life.

Marty’s shadow

This novel can often be a painful and heart-wrenching read.  The final scenes are not for the faint hearted, so don’t choose this book if you want a nice read in front of the fire with a box of chocolates! 

Marty’s Shadow is the story of two brothers, Marty and Jack, who mostly fend for themselves in a small country town.  Their mother has left seven years ago and it is clear she is never coming back.  Their father comes home only on weekends, or rarely at other times, as he tries to get work where he can.  Their father is a complex character.  He is often cruel and brutal, but can be tender and is capable of feeling guilt at his neglect and rough treatment of the boys.  He tries to spend time with the younger brother Jack, but is totally disengaged from his older son.  We only find out why later on.

Jack tries to lead a normal life in the town, going in school plays and joining a sporting team, but Marty is a loner, extremely troubled and disturbed.  His persona is of a tough country kid who loves pig hunting and guns, but deep down there is a mystery about him.  He becomes more and more troubled by voices and half memories of something terrible that has happened in the past.  The Shadow of the title is two things, Marty’s dog, Gwab, who is always at his side, and, more horribly, the voices and nightmares that drench his dreams and then his waking thoughts. 

As the book develops we get inklings of what his memories have repressed, but the darkness of the story is lightened by his relationship with an Iranian girl, Nariah.  She has problems of her own from the small town prejudice towards her immigrant family, so they are drawn together.  One of the most beautiful scenes is when Nariah invites Marty to her place for a meal, and they eat in their backyard.  Her father has created a little Persian oasis of a garden, and her mother has created an oasis of care and lovingly prepared meals.  Marty is nourished by the love and warmth he has never experienced from his own family.

Things are looking up, but take a turn for the worse, as Marty tries to help Nariah deal with the cruel tricks played on her family by some of the town’s boys.  Violence escalates and all ends in a confronting final scene.  Just before this Marty finally realises what he has been suppressing all his life.  He lashes out from his place of pain and ends up hurting those he loves most. 

Marty is not a loveable character, but Heffernan makes us care about what happens to him, and we are given inklings of hope that he might find some healing in his future life.

The ghost’s child

I always approach a new novel by Sonya Hartnett with a combination of excitement and apprehension.  Every novel by her is different and you know you are in for an intense experience.  The same is true for ‘The Ghost’s Child’, however, this time it is a more mellow novel with less disturbing overtones. ‘The Ghost’s Child’ is a fable of obsessive love and love lost, which includes fairy tale elements.

This is the story of how a young and mysterious child comes into the house of an old woman, Maddy, and she tells him the story of her life.  It opens with the most beautiful and poetic prose, deceptively simple.  Maddie begins her story in an everyday style but soon elements of magical realism are introduced as she describes the “nargun “, a frightening bush creature that lonely Maddy takes as her friend.

Maddy starts to tell how she began a life-long quest which her father set her: “what is the world’s most beautiful thing?”.  Much of the first part of the story is taken up with her travels all over the world with her adored father to find the most beautiful thing.

The answer to Maddy’s quest seems to be that this beauty does not reside in a thing but in a person, the feral boy, Feather.  Maddy comes home from her travels as an adult and falls obsessively in love with this ethereal being, a boy of the sea and the wind, who doesn’t want to be confined.  She says of him “He was a kestrel, an eel, a lacewing.  He begrudged nothing else in life but his life belonged absolutely to him.  This is how wild things are.  This is why I loved him in the first place”.  We know right from the beginning that this love will be doomed as Feather is too restless to ever be satisfied with one person in one place.

This is a novel written for no particular age group and wasn’t published as a young adult novel.  Adults will enjoy its poetic and lilting prose and its bittersweet conclusion.  Young adults will enjoy it if they are particularly literate and willing to persist with its lyrical, sometimes slow pace.  It is a book worth reading again to truly appreciate its qualities.