The Stella Prize Longlist 2018

The Stella Prize longlist has been announced! The annual literary award celebrating women writers of both fiction and non-fiction is named after Australian author Stella Miles Franklin. Past winners include:

Carrie Tiffany for Mateship with Birds (2013)

Claire Wright for The Forgotten Rebels of Eureka (2014)

Emily Bitto for The Strays (2015)

Charlotte Wood for The Natural Way of Things (2016)

Heather Rose for The Museum of Modern Love (2017)

I love the Stella Prize and generally find that the winning book ends up being my favourite read of the year and the book I most often recommend or give as gifts to friends and family.

On 8 February 2018, the longlist for this year's Stella Prize was announced with 12 nominees from over 170 entries. Unsurprisingly, I have not read any of the books, and many of the authors are unknown to me. Part of the excitement of these prizes is finding new writers and new titles to read.

The 2018 longlist is as follows:

Shokoofeh Azar - The Enlightenment of the Greengage Tree
Writer Shokoofeh Azar was born in Iran and came to Australia as a refugee. Set in Iran in the aftermath of the Islamic Revolution in 1979, this novel tells the story of five family members who deal with the loss of a son and daughter. The novel draws on Persian folklore and lyrical magical realism and sounds like Azar is a unique and refreshing voice.

Bernadette Brennan - A Writing Life: Helen Garner and Her Work
Readers of this blog will know how much I love Helen Garner's writing. Academic and researcher Brennan accessed Garner's journals and correspondence in preparing this study of the author and her work. It is neither a biography or a literary critique, but rather an exploration of the influences of Garner's work. Sounds like a book to add to the queue.

Kate Cole-Adams - Anaesthesia: The Gift of Oblivion and the Mystery of Consciousness
Journalist Cole-Adams has written this  non-fiction account of what happens when people use anaesthesia. Most people having surgery are 'put under' but have no knowledge of what happens to their mind and consciousness while they are out. I am sure this is an interesting book for some people, but I don't think I will be reading it.


Claire G Coleman - Terra Nullius
Western Australia-based Coleman won the SLQ black&write! Fellowship for this manuscript. It is a novel about Australia's colonial history and the inevitable conflict between Natives and Settlers.  The judges describe the book as 'a novel for our times, one whose tone is as impassioned as its message is necessary.'





Michelle de Krester - The Life to Come
I have already heard so many great things about Michelle de Kretser's latest novel, that I am keen to track it down. Set in Sydney, Paris and Sri Lanka, the satirical story explores themes of intimacy, friendship and loneliness. De Krester won the Miles Franklin Award in 2013 for Questions of Travel.

Beverley Farmer - This Water: Five Tales
This is a collection of novellas focused on women and common concerns of love and loss. The judges praised Farmer's writing, stating 'Her euphonious prose fuses the fluency and gravitas of ancient storytelling traditions to the concentrated clarity of the greatest modern writers. She writes prose with the attentiveness of a poet, achieving much of her lyrical effect by means of a plainspoken vocabulary utilised with a perfectly attuned sense of rhythm.' Sounds fantastic!


Paula Keogh - The Green Bell: A Memoir of Love, Madness and Poetry

This memoir begins in a Canberra Hospital psychiatric ward in 1972.  Young Paula Keogh is being treated and meets Michael Dransfield a drug addicted poet, and they fall in love. Over the next year Paula begins to rebuild her life and Michael writes the poems later published as The Second Month of Spring. While they plan for the future together, will their love survive once they leave the hospital?

Kristy Kneen - An Uncertain Grace
Judges decribe this as 'a formally ingenious and often amusing novel that combines eroticism and science fiction with a playful spirit of intellectual inquisitiveness.' Made up of individual, loosely-tied, short stories this novel is set in the near future where technology alters our relationships with out own bodies and with those around us.

Sofie Laguna - The Choke
Laguna won the Miles Franklin Award in 2015 for her novel The Eye of the Sheep. The Choke centres on young Justine, abandoned by her parents and raised by her Pop in country Victoria. Neglected and left to make her way in the world, Justine has to navigate a world of violence. I reckon this novel is a real contender.

Joyce Morgan - Martin Sharp: His Life and Times
This is a biography of Australian artist Martin Sharp, best known as an illustrator for OZ magazine. Moving to London in the swinging sixties, Sharp lived with Eric Clapton, Germain Greer, Anthony Hayden-Guest and other creatives. Joyce Morgan has thoroughly researched her subject to create an account of a fascinating life.



Mirandi Riwoe - The Fish Girl

This novella was inspired by Somerset Maugham's story 'The Four Dutchman'. Riwoe's story is about an Indonesian girl who leaves her fishing village to work in the house of a Dutch merchant. The judges describe it as a 'subversive postcolonial work of fiction.'

Alexis Wright - Tracker
Tracker Tilmouth was an Aboriginal leader and entrepreneur who died in 2015 at 62 years of age. Part of the Stolen Generation, Tilmouth was raised on a mission on Croker Island, and went on to become a well regarded activist who established the Central Australian Aboriginal Legal Aid Council. Alexis Wright, the Miles Franklin Award winning novelist for Carpenteria,  knew Tracker and wrote this memoir.



The Shortlist will be announced on 8 March - International Women's Day - with the winner revealed on 12 April 2018. Better get reading!

Mansplaining and More

A couple of years ago I read Rebecca Solnit's essay 'Men Explain Things to Me' (2012). It was a wonderful exposé on the way women are silenced, and the effects this loss of voice has.  Solnit wrote the essay following an exchange with a man who patronisingly tells her all about a book he had not read, but which Solnit had actually written. This essay inspired the 'mansplaining' concept, which has become a common expression for anytime women are spoken at with condescension by men.

Recently I revisited Solnit's essay, and continued on to read her collection Men Explain Things to Me (2014). Beyond the title essay, Solnit explores a number of issues that affect women, from a feminist perspective.

'The Longest War' is about rape. It opens with the gang rape and murder of Jyoti Singh on a bus in Delhi in December 2012, moves on to other examples like the teenager assaulted by the Steubenville High football team and the eleven-year old in Texas raped by twenty men. Solnit writes that gang rape is everywhere and that there is 'a pattern of violence against women thats broad and deep and horrific and incessantly overlooked'.  The phenomenon of violence against women is not new. Solnit argues  that continuing to treat each act of violence as an isolated issue is part of the problem, and that the broader culture of toxic masculinity needs to be addressed as a civil/human rights issue.

In 'Worlds Collide in a Luxury Suite' Solnit takes on the International Monetary Fund and Dominique Strauss-Kahn's exploitation of women. 'Grandmother Spider' explores the disappearance of women giving examples like genealogy, in which women historically have taken on their husband's name and  been erased from the patriarchal family tree. 'In Praise of the Threat: What Marriage Equality Really Means' is about traditional marital roles and how it can be redefined. While the other essays look at hysteria and not taking women seriously ('Cassandra Among the Creeps'), denying women their voice ('#YesAllWomen Feminists Rewrite the Story), and about how women are kept in place by trolls and social norms ('Pandora's Box and the Volunteer Police Force').

While the title essay is the one that has received the most attention, I greatly enjoyed her essay on Virginia Woolf - 'Woolf's Darkness: Embracing the Inexplicable'. Woolf, Solnit writes, 'is celebrating getting lost, not literally lost as in not knowing how to find your way, but lost as in open to the unknown, and the way that physical space can provide psychic space.' Her admiration of Woolf oozes from this essay, and made me want to rush out and reread Woolf again.

I greatly enjoyed my time with Solnit's collection. However, the cumulative effect of these essays, read one after another, is a bit of a repetitive blur. I wish I had taken more time to read, leaving a gap between each one, as they were meant to be read. I would recommend this book to anyone interested in contemporary feminist thought.

Cat Person

We are never meeting in real life (2017) is a collection of essays by Chicago-based writer Samantha Irby, which appeared on countless 'best books' lists. The reviews intrigued me, so I chose to begin my reading year with her book.

From the opening essay "My Bachelorette Application" I was hooked. Irby describes herself as 'passably female', '35ish (but could pass for 46 to 52 easily; sixtysomething if I stay up all night)', looking for 'someone too lazy to cheat' and 'who will leave me the hell alone for extended periods of time without getting all weird about it'.

Irby is hilarious, snarky, bitter and fun. She has no filter, is prone to over-sharing, and wildly self-depreciating. She talks openly about her weight, her Crohn's disease and other health complaints, her love-hate relationship with her cat, her sex life, and her job as a client services director at a veterinary practice.

Beneath this hilarity are dark truths that need to be told. She writes about being raised in poverty by an ill mother and an absent father, homelessness, health, race, and other real-world problems.  There is a cynical, sharp edge behind the humour, such as her fear of dying without tidying her home and deleting her browser history.

This book is not for everyone. The language is colourful and explicit, the subject matter is often uncomfortable. Indeed, while I enjoyed the bulk of the essays, there were times I felt like her confessional style was veering towards too much over-sharing. But it is up to her what aspects of her private self she chooses to protect.

I am glad I learned about Irby and I look forward to reading her Bitches Gotta Eat blog. On the strength of this book, Irby now has a TV deal so I will be interested to see what she comes up with next.

Planning for 2018

Each year I like to set aside some time to reflect on my reading habits and prioritise my reading for the coming year.

Two books a month is what I can reasonably achieve given my workload, but to stretch myself I will set a target of 30 books in 2018. And of course I will continue to blog about my reading here.

There are a number of books I have on my bedside and want to read in 2018 including:

• Manhattan Beach (2017) by Jennifer Egan
• First Person (2017) by Richard Flanagan 
• Theft By Finding (2017) by David Sedaris
• Lincoln in the Bardo (2017) by George Saunders
• The Book of Dust (2017) by Philip Pullman

Several books I will need to source from libraries and bookstores include:

• Stories: Collected Short Fiction (2017) by Helen Garner
• True Stories: Complete Short Non-Fiction (2017) by Helen Garner
• The Power (2017) by Naomi Alderman
• Little Fires Everywhere (2017) by Celeste Ng
• We Are Never Meeting in Real Life (2017) by Samantha Irby (update: read review)
• Conversations with Friends (2017) by Sally Rooney
• The Life to Come (2017) by Michelle de Krester

I need to leave room in my reading schedule for new books to be published in 2018, like former Human Rights Commissioner Gillian Triggs' book Speaking Up (due October), Asne Seierstad's Two Sisters (due February), Michael Ondaatje's Warlight (due May), Feel Free: Essays by Zadie Smith (due February), Beautiful Days by Joyce Carol Oates (due February), Tangerine by Christine Mangan (due March) and Meg Wolitzer's The Female Persuasion (due April).

To diversify my reading and to have a bit of fun, I thought I might try some Book Reading Bingo. I made the following Bingo board with the view to expanding my reading horizons. I wonder how many times I can get Bingo before the year is out. Feel free to join in!

B	I	N	G	O
Adapted into a Film/TV Show	Biography  or Memoir	New York Times Bestseller	Booker Prize Shortlister	Poetry Collection
Current Affairs / Politics	Set in Space or at Sea	Pre-20th Century Classic	Fiction Based on a True Story	New-To-Me Author
Short Story Collection	Published in 2018	Free Choice	Set in the Future	First Novel in a Series
Written by a Nobel Laureate	Mystery or Crime Novel	Stella Prize Shortlister	Banned Book	20th Century Classic
Set during Wartime	New-To-Me Genre	Lesser-known Book by a Famous Author	Essay Collection	Book on the 1001 List

Plenty to sink my teeth into here. Let the adventures in reading begin...

My Reading Year - 2017

I have had a wonderful 2017 in books. Each year I set reading goals which usually consist of a number and a list. My challenge in 2017 was 24 books - two a month – which I exceeded by reading 26 titles this year. Not too bad considering my heavy workload and the stress of changing jobs mid-year.

My list included a number of books which I wrote about in my Planning for 2017 post. I managed to get through a many of these books, including:

• Not My Father's Son (2015) by Alan Cumming
• The Good People (2016) by Hannah Kent
• The Dry (2016) by Jane Harper
• Fantastic Beasts (2016) by JK Rowling
• The Princess Diarist (2016) by Carrie Fisher
• The North Water (2016) by Ian McGuire

Alas, several of my planned reads did not eventuate as I got distracted by other books.

Throughout the year I decided to chuck a few titles off my towering 'To Be Read' pile as it is clear that they are never going to get read. I made a second and third attempt to read Elena Ferrante's My Brilliant Friend in 2017, and even tried listening to the audio book version. I made it to the halfway mark but was not enjoying it. Life is too short to read a book I cannot get into... Clearly I have not caught the Ferrante Fever!

Other books that I started and put down in 2017 include: Paul Beatty's The Sellout, Lauren Groff's Fates and Furies, and Marlon James' A Brief History of Seven Killings. I may return to these some day, but was not in the right mood when I started them.

Well, enough about the books I didn't read! I had an enjoyable 2017 in reading, and this is why:

Fiction

When looking back over the novels I read in 2017 it is hard to discern a pattern or theme. I read several mysteries this year, which was a bit unusual for me. With one exception, all were written by women. Most were written in the last few years.

Several novels were on my list at the start of the year, and I am so pleased to have read Australian Jane Harper's remarkable debut The Dry (2016) and her follow up Force of Nature (2017). While I was reluctant to begin Hannah Kent's second novel The Good People (2016), I quickly became engrossed in the story. Ian McGuire's vivid The North Water (2016) was a pleasure to read for his lush and descriptive writing. 

Many of the titles that I read this year came about because I suddenly found myself without something to read. For example, I found Penelope Mortimer's The Pumpkin Eater (1962) in a discount book shop while waiting for a meeting I had arrived too early for. Likewise I found Angela Carter's The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories (1979) while tidying my book shelves. I read both Agatha Christie's The Mysterious Affair at Styles (1920) and Gillian Flynn's Dark Places (2009) as I had suddenly finished other books and went scrounging through my e-reader to find something else to occupy my time. 

Wherever possible, I like to read a novel before I see the film adaptation. That was my impetus for reading JK Rowling's screenplay Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (2016) and Daphne Du Maurier's My Cousin Rachel (1951). Rediscovering Daphne Du Maurier and Agatha Christie, after a long absence, was a wonderful delight.

Of all the novels I read this year the ones I would most recommend to others are Jane Harper's The Dry,  Ian McGuire's The North Water, and my favourite novel from the past year - Heather Rose's The Museum of Modern Love (2016). Rose's Stella Prize winning novel, inspired by the work of performance artist Marina Abramovic, lingered with me long after I finished reading. It is magnificently crafted, taking a real event and adding a fictional twist to the tale. 

Non-Fiction

My non-fiction reads this year were a mixed bag of memoir, long-form journalism, and essays.

I continued to be delighted by my subscription to the Quarterly Essay and greatly enjoyed Benjamin Law's Moral Panic 101 and David Marr's The White Queen. I also subscribe to Australian Foreign Affairs and The New York Times which have provided much food for thought and many of my Random Reads columns.

Carol Dweck's Mindset (2006) had long been on my reading list, and I finally read it this year. This book made me think a lot about my own mindset, how I problem solve, how I communicate and about my relationships with others. It is such a simple concept - how a fixed or growth mindset will determine how you approach life -  but one with deep ramifications. 

On the recommendation of my mother, I read Mark Tedeschi's Murder at Myall Creek (2016) about a brutal massacre of Aboriginal Australians in 1838 and the NSW Attorney General's determination to see justice. Another horrific crime took place in 1996 at Port Arthur, where a man killed 35 people. Sonia Voumard wrote an interesting book, The Media and The Massacre (2016), on journalism and ethics, which I heard about when it was longlisted for the Stella Prize.

I read a number of books which tackled serious subject matters. Richard Flanagan's brief but impactful Notes on an Exodus (2016) explores the refugee crisis by telling the harrowing stories of individual asylum seekers. Ta-Nehisi Coates' Between The World and Me (2015) explores race in America in the form of a letter to his teenage son. Feminist journalist Lindy West's essays are compiled in Shrill - Notes from a Loud Woman (2016) where she explores misogyny, fat shaming, and other subjects.

I read some interesting memoirs this year. I had been holding on to Alan Cumming's Not My Father's Son (2014) since the 2015 Sydney Writers' Festival where he was promoting the book. I really enjoyed Cumming's conversational style. I also read Carrie Fisher's The Princess Diarist (2016) about her affair with Harrison Ford on the set of the original Star Wars film. This was a bittersweet book, read in the months after her sudden death.

JD Vance's Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis (2016) was an incredible read about the disenfranchised working class in America, and goes a long way to explaining why populist politics were able to take hold in the 2016 Presidential election.  The vivid characters in the Vance family, their struggles and triumphs, lingered with me long after I finished reading.

I greatly enjoyed Hillary Rodham Clinton's What Happened (2017), her dissection of the Presidential campaign and the factors which lead to her loss. Her reflection is witty, passionate and sincere. She takes responsibility for her own actions and mistakes, and points the finger at those who share the blame.

The best non-fiction book I read this year was Mark Colvin's Light and Shadow: Memoirs of a Spy's Son (2016). Colvin was an old-school reporter and his memoir of learning on the job, covering major stories, and reporting from far-flung regions of the world was fascinating. So too was his early life as the child of a British diplomat/spy living in Austria, Malaysia and elsewhere. I have always admired Colvin as a journalist and his memoir was a delightful read. 

Poetry

I have always loved poetry but often to forget to include it in my reading diet. This year I really enjoyed Clive James' Collected Poems (1958-2015), especially how he expressed his longing for Australia in many of his verses. Rupi Kaur's bestselling Milk and Honey was an underwhelming disappointment. I will not be rushing out to read her latest collection. 

Best of 2017
Of all the books I read this year the two works I regard most highly are Mark Colvin's memoir Light and Shadow and Heather Rose's novel The Museum of Modern Love. Honourable mentions go to Hillary Rodham Clinton's What Happened, JD Vance's Hillbilly Elegy, Jane Harper's debut The Dry and Ian McGuire's The North Water.

2017 was another great year in reading - enjoying new authors (Harper, Rose) along with old favourites (Rowling, Christie, Du Maurier). Plus, I managed to clear some books that have been on my 'To Be Read' list for way too long (Cumming, Dweck). Looking forward to a new year and new reading adventures in 2018.

End of 2017 Book Lists

'Tis the season for the lists of the "Best Books of 2017" to be released by various media outlets. As a general rule, the lists contain books I haven't read and in some cases haven't heard of, so it is an opportunity to be introduced to new titles and authors. At the end of each year I compile my own list of what I enjoyed this year and my plans for the year ahead in reading. Before I share my own 'Best of' let's look at what others have to say...

Last Christmas I treated myself a subscription to the New York Times, and its section on books has provided me with much inspiration throughout the year.

The New York Times has two lists of recommended reads: the 10 best and the 100 notable books. The shorter lists contains fiction from Booker prize nominees Autumn by Ali Smith, Exit West by Mohsin Hamid, along with Naomi Alderman's The Power, Min Jin Lee's Pachinko, Jesmyn Ward's Sing, Unburied, Sing. For non-fiction it cites Richard O Prum's The Evolution of Beauty, Ron Chernow's Grant, James Formean Jr's Locking Up Our Own, Patricia Lockwood's Priestdaddy, and Prairie Fires, Caroline Fraser's biography of Laura Ingalls Wilder. Well, I have read exactly none of these books!

I thought I might do better on the longer list, but alas no. The fiction side contains lots that I want to read: Rachel Cusk's Transit, Jennifer Egan's Manhattan Beach, George Saunders' Lincoln in the Bardo, John Banville's Mrs Osmond, and Anything is Possible by Elizabeth Strout. Of the fifty non-fiction titles I have only read Hillary Rodham Clinton's What Happened.

The Guardian invited publishers to nominate their favourite books of the year. Unsurprisingly, George Saunders makes the list, as does Sebastian Barry's Days Without End, Jon McGregor's Reservoir 13, and Maggie O'Farrell's I Am, I Am, I Am. Of the listed titles, I want to read Celeste Ng's Little Fires Everywhere and have read Jane Harper's magnificent debut The Dry.

Esquire magazine named 50 Best Books of 2017. Among the titles that made the cut which interest me are: Jesmyn Ward's Sing, Unburied, Sing; Hanif Abdurraqib's They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us; Jennifer Egan's Manhattan Beach; Celeste Ng's Little Fires Everywhere; Samantha Irby's We Are Never Meeting In Real Life.

The Boston Globe's list of The Best Books of 2017, contains a diverse mix of books. Of those listed, the ones which appeal to me are: Home Fire by Kamila Shamsie; House of Names by Colm Toibin; The novels by George Saunders, Naomi Alderman, Jesmyn Ward, Mohsin Hamid, Arundhati Roy, and Min Jin Lee are among the Globe's best. Again, the only one I read off this list is Hillary Rodham Clinton's What Happened.




NPR's Book Concierge compiled a treasure trove - a massive list with a diverse range of titles. The non-fiction list includes: Scaachi Koul's essays One Day We'll All Be Dead and None of This Will Matter; Ariel Levy's memoir The Rules Do Not Apply; David Sedaris' diaries Theft by Finding; Angela Nagle's Kill All Normies; Reni Eddo-Lodge's Why I'm No Longer Talking to White People About Race; Rebecca Solnit's The Mother of All Questions; and Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib's They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us. Loads of great books here!

NPR's fiction list features familiar names: Hamid, Toibin, Ward, Roy, Ali Smith, Saunders and Strout. Other titles include Philip Pullman's The Book of Dust, Gail Honeyman's Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine; and Mike McCormack's Solar Bones.


Slate's Book Review writers Laura Miller and Katy Waldman each identified 10 books worth reading. Laura Miller's list includes Ali Smith's Autumn, Jennifer Egan's Manhattan Beach, Hari Kunzru's White Tears, and a number of non-fiction titles. Katy Waldman's lists always appeal to me more. Of the ones she has listed, I am attracted to Sally Rooney's Conversations with Friends, Philip Pullman's The Book of Dust, and the novels by Saunders and Egan.

Time magazine names 10 works of fiction including Danzy Senna's New People, Sebastian Barry's Days Without End, Rachel Cusk's Transit, and novels by Ward, Saunders, Hamid, Egan. Time's non-fiction list includes Ariel Levy's memoir, Roxane Gay's Hunger, Ta-Nahisi Coates We Were Eight Years in Power, and Hillary Rodham Clinton's What Happened.

Many of the lists contain predictable titles, but a few have hidden gems that I would not have heard of otherwise. After my exploration of these "Best Of" lists I have whittled it down to a handful of titles I would like to read in 2018, including:

• Exit West by Mohsin Hamid 
• Sung, Unburied, Sing by Jesmyn Ward
• Conversation with Friends by Sally Rooney
• Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng
• Lincoln in the Bardo by George Sanders
• Pachinko by Min Jin Lee
• The Power by Naomi Alderman
• Manhattan Beach by Jennifer Egan
• They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us by Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib
• We Are Never Meeting In Real Life by Samantha Irby
• The Book of Dust by Philip Pullman

So it's off to the library for me!

Notes on 'A Novel'
Finally, I am perplexed by the number of books I have come across on these lists which are subtitled 'A Novel'. What's that about? I could understand if it was part of a series like 'A Hercule Poirot Novel' or 'A Stephanie Plum novel' but not just 'A Novel'.

Is it done to help the reader find works of fiction? Is it to help shop keepers know which section to place the book in? Is it to ensure the reader knows that it is an invented tale? I reckon it is a either pretentious ('I am literature') or laziness (for those who don't read the back cover). Just saying...

Rachel, my torment

Yesterday I finished reading Daphne Du Maurier's classic, My Cousin Rachel (1951), and last night I watched the 2017 film adaptation. Rarely do I find that film adaptations do justice to the novel, but I was pleasantly surprised this time.

Set in Cornwall, the novel is told in first-person by 24 year old Philip Ashley. Orphaned as a child, young Philip was taken in by his cousin Ambrose, a twenty-something bachelor, and raised on a large country estate. The two bond as father and son, and live in a world devoid of women. Philip returns from school and commits himself to remaining a stay-at-home bachelor like Ambrose.

When Ambrose takes ill, he is prescribed a treatment of good weather... so off to Italy he goes to take in the winter sunshine. Ambrose and Philip correspond and one day Ambrose mentions in a letter that he has met their cousin Rachel, a widow. As one season moves into the next, Philip learns that Ambrose has given up his bachelor ways and married Rachel.  Ambrose's health worsens and his letters become more erratic. Then one day he writes:

'For God's sake come to me quickly. She has done for me at last, Rachel my torment. If you delay it may be too late.'

Philip takes off for the continent only to arrive after Ambrose has died and the widow has left town. He returns home in a red-hot rage about Rachel, convinced that she has done wrong by Ambrose. But did she? Throughout the rest of the novel the reader contemplates whether Rachel is a mischievous gold digger who killed her husband, or a grieving widow who has lost the love of her life.

The challenge is that we only see Rachel through our unreliable narrator, Philip. His loathing soon becomes obsession as he finally realises that women have a place in the world. He has been so socially isolated that he cannot understand his desire and shows his affection in a number of ill-conceived romantic gestures. As Philip's love for Rachel grows, he resists gossip from the townsfolk and the warnings from his godfather and his long-suffering, would-be girlfriend Louisa.

I greatly enjoyed My Cousin Rachel for the way in which we readers are compelled to oscillate between Rachel's guilt and innocence. This is the torment, the not-knowing. Often times I get annoyed by books which leave me hanging, but with Du Maurier I loved the ambiguity.

The recent film version does the same. Rachel Weisz stars in the title role, with Sam Claflin as Philip. Incredibly talented, Weisz is so mysterious and bewitching, that the audience can see why Philip is enthralled by her.

I enjoyed the feminist undercurrent in Rachel's character, her desire to lead an independent life, free of any man, in a time in which women had few options. The acting was fine by all concerned (I especially loved the portrayal of Seecombe, Philip's ancient manservant). The scenery, sets and costumes were also superb.

If the film had a fault, it was in the heavy-handedness of the foreshadowing: Rachel brewing her herbal tisanas, the pruning of the laburnum, and so on. The film opens with Philip's voiceover asking 'Did she? Didn't she?' and ends with the audience left wondering. I will be pondering that for some time.

I would highly recommend reading Du Maurier's novel first for her incredibly sharp writing, her subtle wit and the way she draws the reader in. While the film is enjoyable, the book is more so.

My review of Du Maurier's Rebecca (1938) can also be found on this blog.

Ms Rodham Regrets

Hillary Rodham Clinton's memoir What Happened (2017) is her attempt to come to terms with her surprise defeat in the 2016 American Presidential election. Despite winning the popular vote by almost three million votes, she lost in the electoral college, handing the Presidency to Donald Trump.

The book begins on what was perhaps the most difficult day of Clinton's life - the inauguration of Donald Trump. She could have been forgiven for staying away, but instead she steeled her nerves, smacked on a smile and raised her head. Her reason for attending was to secure 'the peaceful transfer of power' and to signal a need to bring the country together again after a bitterly divisive campaign. Trump's inaugural address as 'dark and dystopian... a howl straight from the white nationalist gut', and a sign of things to come.

In this memoir of life on the campaign trail, Clinton is searching for the answer to why she lost, especially to such an unqualified, odious person. She writes:

'How could sixty-two million people vote for someone they heard on tape bragging about repeated sexual assault? How could he attack women, immigrants, Muslims, Mexican Americans, prisoners of war and people with disabilities - and as a business man, be accused of scamming countless small businesses, contractors, students and seniors - and still be elected to the most important and powerful job in the world?'

What Happened is a statement not a question. Clinton ponders the range of factors that lead to her loss: the desire for change, the disenfranchisement of large swathes of the population, the interference in the election by Russia and Wikileaks, the sensationalist media, the lingering of Bernie Sanders, the rise of third party candidates, her lack of 'likability' and 'those darn emails'.

Since reading the book I have seen a number of reviews which decry What Happened, stating that she doesn't take responsibility for her loss. I disagree. Clinton owns up to her own mistakes, but rightly points the finger at those who deserve to share some of the blame. This notion that she should curl up in a ball and never speak again is ridiculous.


Aside from life on the campaign trail, Clinton is also deeply personal in this book and spends a lot of time sharing stories of her family, her faith and her daily life. I enjoyed the 'at home with Hillary' insights and wish she had shown more of this side of herself in the campaign.

The chapter on women in politics reminded me of Julia Gillard's memoir, My Story (2014) and the misogyny she endured on a daily basis. Neither woman could get a break, and had to work doubly hard to be heard. As I watched this election from afar, I desperately wanted Clinton to smash the glass ceiling and take office. As she recounts her experience on the day of the election, preparing for victory and then switching to a concession speech, my heart ached for her. Like Gillard, Clinton has a deep reservoir of resilience.

I have read some of Clinton's earlier books like It Takes a Village (1996) and Living History (2003). They were smart but left me somewhat cold. What Happened is all together different, like she has found her voice and is free from the shackles of giving a crap about what the trolls say. She is witty and sharp. Reading this felt like sitting down with her over a cup of tea and listening to her tell stories. She is warm, quippy, and doesn't hold back.

I would recommend What Happened to anyone interested in politics. As she writes during the first year of the Trump presidency, her policies and positions on a range of issues stand in stark contrast to his self-serving and divisive initiatives.Given the events of the past year, the outing of high profile sexual predators (including many Clinton supporters), and the winding back of policies to protect those at the margins, the world needs the leadership she would have offered.

The Law of the Land

Benjamin Law's Quarterly Essay (QE67) arrived in my mailbox this September, just before my same sex marriage survey did. The timing was prescient as Law's Essay, Moral Panic 101, was subtitled 'equality, acceptance and the safe schools scandal' and we were heading into a panic over the simple proposition that all people should have equal rights under the law to marry. 

Throughout September, October and November the hysteria around same sex marriage has been overwhelming. Those opposed have campaigned on fear and loathing, with slippery slope arguments which will bring about the end of days. While those in favour have argued for equality from a place of love and human rights. It has been a horridly difficult time for many in the LBGTIQ community and their supporters. Fortunately the result was a clear victory for the Yes! camp and the legislation to bring about this change has just passed in the Australian Senate. 

Law's essay is not about same sex marriage, but rather about the controversy surrounding the Safe Schools program. Essentially, Safe Schools was designed to address the problem of high youth suicide, particularly among LBGTIQ young people. The optional program would help schools be supportive and inclusive of LBGTIQ students, families and staff. The program was controversial largely because it was swept up in a moral panic by right wing media and conservative politicians.

Law explores the journey of the Safe Schools program from its origins to the hysteria surrounding it, and the eventual withdrawal of support from many states. Law deep dived into all the media reports about Safe Schools and from this was able to write with clarity about how the panic unfurled.

This was an emotional read: the tragedy of young Tyrone Unsworth who was driven to suicide at age 13 after relentless bullying; the bravery of  Caleb Nichols-Mansell who grew up gay in a small Tasmanian town; the passion of John Albiston, principal of a Victorian high school which adopted the Safe Schools program; and Law's own experiences as a young gay man growing up in conservative Queensland. These stories anchor the essay and make the reader ride waves of anger, grief and pride.

Law's writing is clear, frank, funny and packs a punch. This is an important essay and one that should be mandatory reading for parents, principals and politicians. Safe Schools has been pilloried when it should have been praised and funded. My hope is that now that the same sex marriage debate is drawing to a close, that young LGBTIQ people will feel supported by the overwhelming affirmation of equal marriage and that our nation will become more inclusive.

Listening and Learning (18/11/17)

My podcast obsession continues. Readers of this blog may recall my previous Listening and Learning post about S-Town, Trace, Revisionist History, Slate's Political Gabfest and Chat 10 Looks 3.

In recent weeks my attention has turned to some true crime podcasts - fascinating equivalents to a page-turning thriller. Indeed my 40 minute commute to work has not been long enough and I often reach my destination before the end of an episode and will want to walk around the block until it is done.

So here (hear!) are some of the podcasts I have been listening to lately.

Dirty John

Annabel Crabb mentioned that she had been listening to Dirty John in a recent episode of Chat 10 Looks 3. Sounded good, so I downloaded one episode to try it and within 48 hours I had listened to the whole thing. I also told a friend about it and she binged the six episodes in one sitting. It's that addictive!

Dirty John is the true story of a Californian family. Debbie, a 59-year old divorcee and successful business woman, meets a handsome Anaesthesiologist on an online dating site. She goes on a date with John and quickly falls for him. Within weeks they move in together and, despite the reservations of Debbie's adult children, they are soon married.

Over time it becomes apparent that John is not exactly who he says he is, creating a wedge in the family. The story builds as we learn more about John's past, the nature of his character and the lengths he is prepared to go to to keep Debbie. Los Angeles Times reporter Christopher Goffard narrates the podcast, which was released along with a print version of the story in the Times.

Be prepared to binge, as you will be hooked. Learn more about on the Dirty John website. There is also an interesting piece in The New Yorker by Sara Larson called "Journalism as Noir Entertainment" about the success of Dirty John which is worth a read once you've listened to it.

In The Dark
Once I had finished Dirty John, I looked for other similar podcasts and came across the Peabody Award winning In The Dark by APM reports. This podcast aired in 2016 and centres on a child abduction.

In 1989, 11 year old Jacob Wetterling was riding his bike to a video store with friends in rural Minnesota. They were approached by a masked man purporting to have a gun. He grabbed Jacob and kidnapped him. This crime gripped the nation and lead to 'stranger danger' campaigns and sex offender registry legislation.

For 27 years the mystery of what happened to Jacob went unsolved. Investigative reporter Madeleine Baran had spent nine months exploring this case and making a story about Wetterling's disappearance. A week before the podcast was due to air, an arrest was made, so Baran recut the first episode and release it early. The podcast is not about the mystery, but rather what went wrong in the investigation, what were the consequences, and what happened to those involved.

This podcast gave me a lot to think about and was an interesting expose on law enforcement, media and mass hysteria. More information can be found on the In The Dark website.

Missing Richard Simmons

I heard about this podcast through an article I read in the New York Times in March 2017 by Amanda Hess, calling it a "Morally Suspect Podcast".

Richard Simmons is a fitness guru that achieved fame in the 1980s with a talk show, series of exercise videos (Sweatin' to the Oldies), and an exuberant personality. Journalist Dan Taberski lived in Los Angeles, attended Simmons gym (aptly named Slimmons) and was a regular in the weekly aerobic classes Simmons led.

In 2014 Richard Simmons abruptly withdrew from public life and cut off contact with many people. Taberski investigated to find out what happened to Simmons. The result is an eerie, stalkerish podcast which attempts to show concern for Simmons' wellbeing but makes wild speculations about what happened to this celebrity.

New York Times journalist Hess was concerned about the way in which Taberski blurred lines and invaded Simmons privacy,  accusing Taberski of relentlessly pestering Simmons and his friends. She is forthright in accusing Taberski of exploiting and sensationalising the Simmons story. She also argues that public figures have a right to a private life. Her sentiments echoed mine as a listened to this podcast.
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The ethics of journalism always interests me and in listening to all of these podcasts (and to Serial, S-Town, Trace and the like), I have reflected on the delegate balance between public interest and privacy. Fair minded investigative journalists know where the line is. S-Town in particular made me really uncomfortable with its voyeurism into the life of a troubled man.

Earlier this year I wrote a review of Sonia Voumard's The Media and the Massacre, and I often think about her consideration of the media response to the Port Arthur killings and the ethics of reporters exploiting those associated with the tragedy.

Investigative journalists are required to probe deeply in their quest for truth. They take time to uncover and interpret data, find multiple sources, check facts and ensure accuracy in reporting. In this age of the 24-hour news cycle and reduced resources in news rooms, there has been a decline in quality and a shortcut of ethics. Tabloid, sensationalist, click-bait news stories are prioritised and long-form, considered journalism is diminished.

As one of the thousands of people who has listened to these podcasts, clicked on sensationalist stories, and rushed to judgement on something I have seen reported, I know that I too have a role in this. I have much more to mull over here...

So those are my latest podcast obsessions. Stay tuned for more Listening and Learning.

Portrait of a Marriage

I stumbled across Penelope Mortimer's The Pumpkin Eater (1962) by accident. Early for a work meeting, I wandered into a discount bookstore - the kind where everything is under $10 - and there I found the Penguin Modern Classic version of this slender novel. Having never heard of the book, nor it's author, I bought it on a whim and found a nook to read while awaiting my appointment.

The novel tells the story of Mrs Armitage, a frequently married woman who has a wealth of children to each of the men she has  wed. Her latest husband Jake is an up-and-coming screen writer who desperately wants to be rid of all the children to boarding school and stop having more. Mrs Armitage is depressed due to her husband's infidelities and their newly acquired wealth which has left her with far too much time on her hands. Her psychiatrist gives her pills and encourages her to avoid pregnancy. Her sessions with the shrink take her back to her blossoming sexuality and her views on love, fertility and marriage.

This is said to be an autobiographical novel, and having read about Penelope Mortimer's life I understand why. Mortimer was married at least twice and had six children to four men. Her last husband was barrister and writer John Mortimer, of Rumpole fame. The book is a telling indictment of their relationship.

I really enjoyed Mortimer's writing style and the humour she infuses in a rather dark tale. She has a way of describing scenes candidly, often with tremendous wit. For example, a scene where Mrs Artimage remembers that as a teenager she read some women's magazines a friend had given her and

"learned many useful facts such as all men are children, all men are emotionally immature, all men dislike hairnets and criticism, all men are unfaithful, must be trusted, need hot breakfasts, want more than they should have and need more than they are given."

Another scene where Mrs Armitage is listening to her husband speak with her psychiatrist, Mortimer describes as:

"There was a short silence. I eased myself farther down the stairs. My heart was pounding again and I felt sick. Eaves-droppers my mother would say, hear what they deserve."

And again, when Mr Armitage returns from abroad, Mortimer writes that the children were awaiting his car:

"Most of them were in the front bedrooms, watching for him; when they saw his car draw up they cateracted down the stairs, swarming over him as he came through the door..."  

The novel was adapted into a film by Harold Pinter, which starred Anne Bancroft, Peter Finch and Maggie Smith. The poster says it all - 'The marriage bed isn't always a bed of roses!' I am keen to track down a copy of the film and see how the novel was translated to the screen, especially given the talented cast.

Into The Wild

In the dense forest of the Giralang Ranges, five co-workers set off on a four day hike. Part of a corporate bonding experience, the excursion was supposed to bring them closer together. But when only four of the women arrived at the rendezvous point, it was clear that something had gone horribly wrong.

Force of Nature (2017) is Jane Harper's second novel, released a year after her wonderful debut The Dry. It features federal police officer Aaron Falk and his partner Carmen Cooper, who have an interest in the matter as the missing woman is the whistleblower on a case they are investigating.

I love the way Harper writes and structures her novel. In alternating chapters between the weekend hike and the search and rescue operation, she slowly unfurls the mystery. The pace quickens as the story builds. Little clues, red herrings and the ominous location create an intriguing mystery. I thought I had figured the ending out quite early, but was delighted to find I was wrong.

Location is key in Harper's novels. In The Dry it was an outback town, dusty from drought. Here, the forest is dense and has a sinister past (evoking Ivan Milat's Belanglo State Forest). It is cold, wet and dark with clouds never lift. As you read, you feel the damp chill in your bones.

My only quibble is that some of the women on the hike were hard to tell apart. On occasion, I would have to stop and go back to figure out which one was which - Bree, Beth, Jill or Lauren. Readers need to pay close attention. All the women were pretty hard to like and have sympathy for. I definitely would not want to work with any of them, and remind me never to go on a corporate retreat.

In my review of The Dry, I said that Falk could become the next Cormoran Strike. With his second outing, I think that is true. He is a flawed detective - like Rebus or Wallander - smart and savvy, yet private and reserved. In the first half of the book we learned very little about Falk, but small insights into his character come out, largely thanks to Carmen's gentle probing. I would have liked more Falk in this novel, to draw him out a bit earlier, but I look forward to the reveal over the course of the series.

Second novels are often awkward and rushed after the success of the first. I didn't feel that in this case. Harper is a really good writer, coming into her stride in this genre. I look forward to the next instalment.

Booker Prize Winner 2017

The 2017 Man Booker prize winner was announced this week. From the thirteen titles on the longlist, to the six on the shortlist, the judges have now chosen the one book that would take home the prize.

American writer George Saunders won for his first novel, Lincoln in the Bardo, a story focussed on one night when Abraham Lincoln buries his 11 year old son. The graveyard is filled with souls not yet fully transitioned who reside in the bardo between death and rebirth.

The chair of the judges, Lola, Baroness Young said:

"The form and style of this utterly original novel, reveals a witty, intelligent, and deeply moving narrative. This tale of the haunting and haunted souls in the afterlife of Abraham Lincoln’s young son paradoxically creates a vivid and lively evocation of the characters that populate this other world.  Lincoln in the Bardo is both rooted in, and plays with history, and explores the meaning and experience of empathy."

I am so pleased this book won as I expected it would. From the first few pages, I knew there was something remarkable about it. Will write a full review on this novel shortly.

Of interest, this is the second American winner in a row, after the eligibility criteria was changed in 2014 to allow writers from outside the Commonwealth. I imagine with Paul Beatty last year and George Saunders this year, there will be plenty of British writers concerned about the widening pool of talent and wishing it were constrained once more.

The Insider

It was such a pleasure to read ABC journalist Mark Colvin's Light and Shadow - Memoirs of a Spy's Son (2016). Colvin's memoirs explore his early life with his Australian mother Anne, his British diplomat/spy father John, and his younger sister Zoe. The Cold War was quietly raging and the family moved from post to post - Austria, Malaysia and beyond - while his father worked in espionage, a profession under pressure following the outing of the Cambridge Five Spy Ring.

When Mark was old enough, he was sent to Britain to boarding school - a brutal, punishing experience which he describes in great detail. At school Colvin fell in love with reading and music. His memoir is peppered with the soundtrack of his life and the stories that he enjoyed.

While studying English literature at Oxford, Colvin visited his father at his latest posting in Mongolia for summer holidays. Colvin's stories of Mongolia and its nomadic people reminded me of my own travels to Ulan Bator via the Trans-Siberian railway.

Colvin was an old-school reporter, with a solid credo: 'don't make up your mind before you've gathered the facts'. He learned on the job as a cadet covering events that shaped Australia in the 1970s and 1980s like the Dismissal, the Granville train disaster and the Hilton Hotel bombing. He describes the tape recorders, reel-to-real machines, editing suites and difficulties of reporting in the pre-Internet era.

My dad was a journalist and foreign correspondent. Colvin's life as a reporter reminded me so much of my dad, that I felt waves of reminiscence as I was reading. Whether Colvin described his assignment during the Iran hostage crisis, the trial of Klaus Barbie, interviewing Lech Walesa, or events in London in the late 1960s/early 1970s, I thought of the stories my dad had told me of his own experiences in the fourth estate.

After covering the major events of recent decades, Colvin's career as a foreign correspondent was cut short by a rare and devastating illness contracted on assignment in 1994. Later, Colvin became a beloved presenter of PM on Radio National, an advocate for organ donation, and amassed an enviable Twitter following.

My only gripe with this memoir was that it is not long enough. Colvin himself acknowledges that there are many more stories to tell. I wanted to know more about his mother and also about his later life. His wife and children are barely mentioned, indeed they are pretty much absent from this tale, although undoubtedly major influences in his life. His desire for privacy is further evident in the fact that his illness was covered in less than two pages. Colvin had a lot more to say, but unfortunately this memoir will have no sequel.

From time to time I would see Mark Colvin present at events in Sydney. The last time I saw him live was at the 2015 Festival of Dangerous Ideas, when he interviewed the newly released Peter Greste about his year in an Egyptian prison, the decline of journalism as a career, and the vital importance of a free press. I didn't realise how little time he had left with us.

Mark Colvin died on 11 May 2017. I heard about his death from Colvin himself in a beautiful tweet: "It's all been bloody marvellous." That about sums up my feelings after reading his memoir - bloody marvellous!

Random Reads (5/10/17)

I have read a number of fascinating articles lately which are worth sharing.

• "The Dying Art of Disagreement" by Bret Stephens, published in the New York Times, is the text of a lecture Stephens delivered in September at the Lowy Institute in Australia. It is a powerful speech and one which I have thought about many times since I read it. Stephens talks about the polarization of viewpoints and the demise of liberal education in which we are taught to have an open mind. He talks about the rise of identity politics and the role of the media in speaking truth. One paragraph that really resonated with me is when Stephens says 

'...to disagree well, you must first understand well. You have to read deeply, listen carefully, watch closely. You need to grant your adversary moral respect; give him the intellectual benefit of the doubt; have sympathy for his motives and participate empathically with his line of reasoning. And you need to allow for the possibility that you might yet be persuaded of what he has to say.'

• The Cincinnati Enquirer sent over 60 journalists out into the city to cover a week in the life of its citizens to explore the impact of drugs. The result is an incredible "Seven Days of Heroin: This is what an epidemic looks like" and how one July week resulted in 18 deaths, 180+ overdoses, 200+ incarcerations, and 15 babies born with heroin-related conditions. In this compelling piece we meet the addicts, their distraught family members, the first responders, the police officers and others who are impacted by the heroin epidemic. It is a powerful portrait of a city in crisis and the images are astounding. 

• I love Joni Mitchell. She is a music pioneer and legend. So I was drawn to an article in The Atlantic by Jack Hamilton called "The Unknowable Joni Mitchell". Hamilton reviews many of the biographies written about the singer and talks about the intimacy of her music. Reading the article reminded me of many of her songs from early albums and encouraged me to put my Joni playlist on repeat. Here is a live performance from 1974 of 'A Case of You', perhaps my favourite Mitchell song.

• The mass shooting in Las Vegas on 1 October 2017 has produced countless column inches of coverage. It is a horrible, devastating crime that should be a wake up call to the gun loving Americans about the need for restraint. Perhaps I have become numb to the inevitability of the aftermath commentary in which the white perpetrator will be called a lone wolf rather than a homegrown terrorist, his owning a ridiculous amount of semi-automatic weapons is not questioned, and there is no action on gun control. There are plenty of articles covering this story and asking why it is allowed to happen. One of the best is by Roxane Gay's "No More Shootings That Follow The Rules" writing in the New York Times.  Also, Jimmy Kimmel opened his show on Monday 2 October with a moving plea for change which I found really powerful.

• Finally, there was an interesting piece in the New York Times by John Herman called "What if platforms like Facebook are too big to regulate?" in which he explores the recent eviction of Uber from London and Facebook's attempts to 'strengthen the democratic process'. Many of the  big tech players - Google, Facebook, Twitter - see themselves as democratic tools, giving voice to the disenfranchised and bringing about connectivity and community. These platforms are now part of the modern infrastructure and yet these tools can be used with malicious intent as seen in last year's American election. So should they be regulated? And if so, how? Much to think about...