The Heart of America

With the American election only one week away, I have been engrossed in following US politics - not just the Presidential race, but down ballot contests which have the ability to influence the direction of the nation for years to come. Perhaps it is my lifelong fascination with America or my poli-sci proclivity, but my curiosity is insatiable. 

As I was watching the news about American COVID cases surging, Trump rallies and joblessness, I spotted an unread book on my shelf and knew that it was the perfect time to read it. Over the past few evenings I read Amy Goldstein's Janesville - An American Story (2017), a deep dive into America's industrial heartland and the devastating toll of the global financial crisis. 

Two days before Christmas in 2008 the General Motors plant in Janesville, Wisconsin closed its doors. The plant had opened in 1919 and for the better part of a century had churned out automobiles. Generations of families had been employed by the company, or in associated businesses that created parts for the vehicle and services for its workers. With the economy contracting and consumers turning away from larger SUVs, GM was heading towards bankruptcy and the Janesville plant was chosen for closure. 

Suddenly over 9000 people were left without work. Some took transfers to other GM plants, and became known as GM gypsies, carpooling to drive over 400 kilometres to Fort Wayne or other midwestern cities where they could work during the week before returning home to their families for brief weekend visits. Others went back to college to try to gain a new qualification in the hopes of restarting in a new career. And many waited - taking low-paid, insecure, temporary work - firmly believing that GM would reopen as it had done before. But the Janesville Assembly Plant didn't, and more business closed including the Parker Pen company (founded in Janesville). 

Amy Goldstein, Washington Post staff writer, turns her investigative lens on Janesville and follows several families over the next six years. She documents the devastating impact of the GM closure on individuals, families and the entire community. Goldstein also follows the political fortune of Janesville local Paul Ryan, former Speaker of the US House of Representatives and 2016 Vice-Presidential candidate. There are deep lessons to be learned from the failure of government interventions (auto industry bailouts and retraining programs) which divided this community and gave way to the rise of Trump.

Prior to the closure, GM paid its employees well and, in turn, GM employees were generous in their community, participating in charity drives and supporting various causes. With the loss of their incomes, and their replacement wages more than halved, many ex-GMers found themselves uninsured, their house values shrinking, losing the lifestyle they had been accustomed to. Indeed, many suffered from depression, poverty and homelessness and needed to rely on the many charities they previously supported.  One of the most fascinating insights of Goldstein's book, was the failure of programs to retrain retrenched workers, as those who did not undertake the training ended up better off.

Goldstein is a talented writer and compelling story-teller. She writes with empathy and intellect, and avoids being judgemental or preachy. Janesville is ultimately a tale of hope and endurance. 

I first heard Amy Goldstein speak at the 2018 Sydney Writers' Festival. At the time I thought her book would be a great companion read to JD Vance's Hillbilly Elegy (2016) and it absolutely is. Both are wonderful books for anyone wanting to understand what is happening in America and why midwest states like Wisconsin are battlegrounds in this election.  If you don't have time to read Janesville, PBS Newshour interviewed Goldstein and some of the families she writes about in a brief video available online which I highly recommend.

Not My Type

Muriel Spark's The Driver's Seat (1970) is a fast-paced novella that tosses the reader around so much it causes whiplash, as we attempt to keep pace with an unpredictable woman desperate to be in control of her own destiny.

Lise is a perplexing protagonist. We know little about her: she is in her early thirties; five-foot-six; lives alone; has worked her entire career at an accountant's office; she rarely takes time off. She also has strong views and knows what is and isn't 'her type'.

We meet her at a shop where she is trying on dresses. The sales assistant advises her that the dress she is wearing is made of a new stain-resistant material. At this Lise flies into a rage, tearing off the dress and saying 'get this thing off me. Off me at once'. Lise is insulted and shouts at the sales assistant  'Do you think I spill things on my clothes?... Do I look as if I don't eat properly?' From this interaction, we learn that Lise is prone to big emotions and mood swings. We see this again when she farewells her boss that afternoon for her vacation as she laughs hysterically then erupts in tears. Something ain't right.

Lise is flying to an unnamed city in Europe for her holiday. She boards the plan in her newly purchased dress - 'lemon-yellow top with a skirt patterned in bright V's of orange, mauve and blue' of washable cotton (not stain-resistant). Lise is one for bold, contrasting colours and designs - clothes that cause double-takes of passers-by and murmured comments of other women. She takes her seat on the plane between two men and makes a quick assessment to determine which may be her 'type'. 

Just as I was beginning to wonder what this book was about, Spark shocks the reader with the opening to chapter three when we learn that Lise will be found dead the next day. Suddenly, I was hooked. What happened to her? 

Over the next 24 hours Lise meets various people, purchases odd souvenirs (a scarf, a blender), rebuffs the attentions of men ('Go away, you're not my type'), and has a number of bizarre encounters. Lise is continually trying to be in control (the driver's seat) but we never know what is going on in her mind. We just understand her to be erratic and self-destructive, making choices that will lead to her death.  

I read this book in one sitting, and have mulled it over for the past few days to try and gather my thoughts. I enjoyed many aspects of the writing - Spark's swipes at fashion trends, macrobiotics and religion; her tight turn of phrase and the foreshadowing she uses - but also found it dragged in sections (shopping with Mrs Fiedke). The final chapter where we learn of Lise's end is magnificent. 

Ultimately, I am not sure that this book was my type, as I found it a bit uneven, but I am glad I took the ride. Also, I absolutely love the cover on the Penguin Classics version (pictured) - it is perfect. 

My review of Muriel Spark's The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie (1961) is also available on this blog. 

Smuggler's Run

Earlier this year I was supposed to go on a family holiday to Ireland and the UK. Whenever I plan vacations I compile a list of books to read to accompany and enhance my travels. When my travels were cancelled I couldn't bear to read the long list of Irish and Cornish titles as they only served to remind me of my disappointment. 

With overseas travels postponed for the foreseeable future, I revisited the list to find my next read. The historic Jamaica Inn on Bodmin Moor was one of the places we planned to visit on our travels. Writer Daphne Du Maurier had stayed there in the 1930s and it inspired her classic 1936 novel Jamaica Inn.

Mary Yellen grows up in southern Cornwall in a farming community of Helford. When her mother dies, her home is sold and she heads to Bodmin Moor to stay with her mother's sister, Aunt Patience, and her uncle Joss Merlyn, keeper at the Jamaica Inn. At 23, Mary is naive and has no idea what to expect of this remote outpost and her distant family. The coachman who drops her off at the Inn provides a stark warning that this is no place for a girl like her.

Aunt Patience is not who Mary remembered. Once young and vibrant, the ten years she has been a Merlyn has aged her and Patience trembles in fear of her mercurial husband. Uncle Joss is a big man with a fierce temper and a predilection for drink. Almost immediately Mary realises she must get away from this man and take her poor Aunt with her.

The Inn may once have been a place of merriment and sustenance for weary travellers, but now it has fallen into disrepair and disrepute. Many rooms are bare or locked. The only patrons are the rough men who arrive in the wee hours of the night, loading and unloading their wagons. Mary overhears some of their discussions and eventually comes to realise that her Uncle is involved in smuggling and pillaging from coastal shipwrecks. 

Mary confides in two men she crosses paths with - a local vicar and her Uncle's younger brother Jem. Whether she can trust either provides much of the intrigue in this novel, and I found myself chastising her for giving away too much information. The pace quickens as the danger builds. Can she and Patience flee? Will she be betrayed by the men she trusts? Will her menacing Uncle get the better of her? Will she catch her death of cold, walking miles on the wet moors?

I loved Du Maurier's depiction of the landscape in this part of the world. The moors, granite tors, rivers, pools and bogs are all described in such a way that the reader is transported and can feel the cold of the howling winds and torrential rains. Du Maurier creates a haunting, gothic atmosphere in the mists and meadows, befitting the terror of this tale.

As a heroine, Mary was plucky, determined and courageous. She comes close to being raped, beaten and killed, but manages to come through - bruised and scarred, but unafraid. I longed for Mary to find a happy independent life away from the substandard men that surround her. While I know what direction she was heading at the end of the novel, I hold out hope that she keeps this courage and determination and finds the happiness she seeks.

Jamaica Inn has been adapted into a 1939 film by Alfred Hitchcock, a television series in the 1980s with Jane Seymour as Mary, and again in 2014 with Jessica Brown Findlay in the lead role. 

My reviews of Daphne Du Maurier's My Cousin Rachel (1951) and Rebecca (1938) are also on this blog.

Perfect Storm

I always look forward to a new Jane Harper novel and pre-ordered The Survivors (2020) so I would get my mitts on it right away. 

The main character, Kieran Elliott, grew up in a picturesque seaside town in Tasmania and now resides in Sydney. When he visits his home town with his partner and infant daughter, he is immediately reminded of why he left - Evelyn Bay is full of painful memories. Twelve years earlier, a fierce storm killed Kieran's older brother Finn and another local, and a teenage girl went missing. 

On Kieran's first night back in town, a body is discovered on the beach near his parents' home, which disrupts the tight community as it did the day of the fateful storm. While the investigation unfolds, long-held suspicions and hard truths are revealed and deeply buried past traumas bring secrets to the surface.

The novel is filled with interesting characters. Kieran coming to terms with the grief and shame of his past while looking to the future with his young child. His mother, Verity, struggling with her husband's dementia. The outsider, author GR Barlin, who keenly observes all around him. Young Liam, growing up resentful at the absence of his father. Mrs Birch, still searching for her missing daughter. 

Jane Harper is a master at portraying the Australian landscape. This new setting of a sleepy coastal town, is brilliantly described from the rugged cliffs, dank caves and sandy beach to the local shops and homes. The reader is immediately transported and immersed in the setting, which is key to this story as the place is intricately linked to those who reside there.

There is a wonderful pace to this novel. The crime happens early on and then the layers of the back story unfurl like the rolling tide. Piece-by-piece the story builds to its climax, with red herrings and diversions in the best mystery writing tradition. The Survivors is definitely an addictive page-turner, solidifying Harper's place as the Queen of Australian crime writing.

My reviews of Harper's previous novels - The Dry (2016), Force of Nature (2017) and The Lost Man (2018) are also available on this blog.