Talking to My Country by Stan Grant

An extraordinarily powerful and personal meditation on race, culture and national identity.

In July 2015, as the debate over Adam Goodes being booed at AFL games raged and got ever more heated and ugly, Stan Grant wrote a short but powerful piece for The Guardian that went viral, not only in Australia but right around the world. His was a personal, passionate and powerful response to racism in Australian and the sorrow, shame, anger and hardship of being an indigenous man. 

Stan Grant was lucky enough to find an escape route, making his way through education to become one of our leading journalists. He also spent many years outside Australia, working in Asia, the Middle East, Europe and Africa, a time that liberated him and gave him a unique perspective on Australia. This is his very personal meditation on what it means to be Australian, what it means to be indigenous, and what racism really means in this country.

If there is one issue in which our group finds complete agreement it would have to be the matter of racism. Over the years we have read many novels with this as either an underlying or central theme. It can lead to a highly emotional discussion, but one that always leaves us passionately opposed to what we consider one of the worst of all human flaws.

Grant’s Talking to My Country did not disappoint in the discussion stakes, and although the general opinion was one of high regard for what the author was saying, our views differed on how he said it.

Some felt that it was an especially personal account of suffered racism and on that level, very confronting. Grant’s childhood experiences … consistent relocating, indifferent teachers, juvenile justice … were not overly surprising to us and while he did encounter a certain amount of ‘luck’ in his educational path, we felt the strong family unit he was raised in helped in no small way to create a solid, resilient character. Something he put to good use in his chosen career.

There were those of us who tired a little of the repetitive nature of his dialogue, feeling he laboured the point just a little and there was some discussion of the reconciliation debate and what has (and hasn’t) changed in the last 20-25 years. How racists are Australians and why don’t those who believe differently speak out?

Then there is the Adam Goodes speech, the Australia Day invasion debate, deaths in custody and Indigenous education … all fiery issues that we spent the better part of 90 minutes discussing.

But in the end there were but two things said which sent a jolt through most of us …

As quoted from Stan Grant ‘… ours is an inheritance of sadness …’

And from Shirley ‘… I was brought up to be thankful that I was born in Australia, with a white face …’
As sad and alarming as both these statements are, they could be the start of moving towards a different way of thinking. Let’s hope that day arrives sooner rather than later.

On the Blue Train by Kristel Thornell

It was the work of a moment: On 4 December 1926, Agatha Christie became Teresa Neele, resident of the spa hotel, the Harrogate Hydro. With her wedding ring left behind, and her minimal belongings unpacked, the lost days begin.

Lying to her fellow guests about the death of a husband and child, Teresa settles in to the anonymity she so fiercely desires. Until Harry McKenna, bruised from the end of his own marriage, asks her to dance.

In this entrancing novel of creativity and grief, Kristel Thornell combines fact and fantasy to reconstruct Agatha Christie's retreat from a life that had become too difficult.


If a novel can be given a prize for creating stimulating conversation, On the Blue Train is a winner! Although our scores for this book did not widely vary, our views on whether Thornell successfully portrayed Christie’s lost days did.

Chris commented that she failed to see why this moment in Christie’s life needed to be written about, as it had already been done (numerous times) and we will never really know what happened, as Christie herself has refused to inform.

That said, it is made clear that this is a totally fictional account, blending fact and fiction into a novel that leaves much to the imagination concerning the author’s actions and thoughts. Besides, there were other issues that needed addressing … Denise found the ‘questionable adjectives’ encumbering and felt that Thornell was trying ‘way too hard’. This was an opinion shared by a few of our group which grew into a great discussion about the importance of language and over compensating with difficult words … a real annoyance for some of us! But for some, the language is what gave us place and time, feeling that it was intentionally written as Agatha Christie herself would have.

It also gave us the opportunity to envisage what we thought Christie might have been going through and experiencing during this time. The death of her mother, her pending divorce and a perceived case of writer’s block to us all added up to a woman going through a very trying time. How would any of us cope with such pressure? Again, some stimulating conversation that never fails to satisfy our willingness to openly share our thoughts on the more challenging stuff of life!

Generally, we found the characters a little on the light side, but everyone gave points for the research and descriptive hand used. It was agreed that this book is not a 'sticker', in the sense that it will be with you long after the reading. Then again, if you are a fan of Christie and her world (fictional or otherwise) it could be considered an essential read.

Alexander McCall-Smith, often referred to as 'Sandy" is one of the world's most prolific and best-loved authors. For many years he was a professor of medical law and worked in universities in the UK and abroad before turning his hand to writing fiction. 

He has written and contributed to more than 100 books, including specialist academic titles, short story collections, and a number of immensely popular children;s books. This month we will be reading a selection of Alexander McCall-Smith books.

If any author has a diversity of novels to choose from, McCall-Smith has. Everyone found something different to read … whether it was from 44 Scotland Street, Corduroy Mansions, Isabel Dalhousie or simply a collection of short stories, we all brought something to the table that had us smiling and shaking our heads in mirth. Fan or not, you have to acknowledge his talent for spinning a witty (albeit quirky) yarn.

McCall-Smith’s droll sense of humour and clever use of language found approval with the majority. And although some of us warmed to him more than others, his gentle stories and believable characters satisfied our group’s desire for skillful writing and gratifying discussion.

Some of us were first time McCall-Smith readers, others have been doing so for sometime, but if the general tone around the table is anything to go by, it could be that this month he acquired a few more converts to his already long list of aficionados!

Silas Marner by George Eliot

Wrongly accused of theft and exiled from a religious community many years before, the embittered weaver Silas Marner lives alone in Raveloe, living only for his precious hoard of gold. But when his money is stolen and an orphaned child, Eppie, finds her way into his house, Silas is given the chance to transform his life.

The story of an isolated man who learns to open his heart, Silas Marner was George Eliot’s favourite of her novels, combining humour, rich symbolism and pointed social criticism.

Classic fiction often brings a stimulating conversation to our meetings. The majority of our group has come to reading classics later in life, so what we lack in literary comment is made up for with unqualified, yet genuine observations.

This type of discussion can then lead to a very enlightening look at what can some times be a rather sombre or staid study.  

Generally speaking Silas Marner was well received. Praise was given to Eliot’s descriptive passages and character profiles. Village life was superbly portrayed with all the human characters tenderly drawn out. Everyone loved Dolly and her freely given advice on child-rearing, and anything else she felt needed saying! Empathy for Silas was also forth coming and even the neat and tidy, happy ending was forgiven.

There was some comment on the difficulty of the language and also the pace, which was just a little slow and frustrating for this busy time of year. We all agree that along with many other English classics, Silas is at its best when being read aloud. A few of us read out favourite passages and the group’s enjoyment was clearly evident.  

It was felt that the theme of redemption was strong and could apply to many modern stories today, but basically this was a beautifully told ‘fairy’ tale that did not fail in its aim to enchant us.

My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante

My Brilliant Friend is the gripping first volume in Elena Ferrante's widely acclaimed Neapolitan Novels. This exquisitely written quartet creates an unsentimental portrait of female experience, rivalry and friendship never before seen in literature.

The story of Elena and Lila begins in the 1950s in a poor but vibrant neighbourhood on the outskirts of Naples. They learn to rely on each other and discover that their destinies are bound up in the intensity of their relationship.

Elena Ferrante’s piercingly honest portrait of two girls’ path into womanhood is also the story of a nation and a meditation on the nature of friendship itself.

If scoring a book is any indication of its popularity, this month’s novel by Italian writer Elena Ferrante comes in a very poor last with our group.

Only two of us found the story of Lena and Lila transfixing, with vivid images and a compelling story that begs you to read on.

The majority of the group found little to interest them and much to annoy. They thought it repetitive, long and drawn out and felt the translation stunted and difficult to read.

How can a novel evoke such differing views? It is always interesting discovering what each person gets (or doesn’t get) from a book. A particular writing style, theme or plot can be all consuming to some, whereas another reader gleams little or nothing of interest from the same content.

Thankfully we have learnt that this exact circumstance can lead to a very interesting discussion … which we had this month. We covered the social structure of small, impoverished communities, family violence, friendship and rivalry, language and some of the very complex ideas played out within Ferrante’s four Neapolitan novels.

Some of us felt it was written more for an Italian audience and that the translation may not have done it justice. But those of us who are fans found everything to like in this novel … from the highly volatile atmosphere of poverty ridden Naples streets to the inner sanctum of two young girls discovering their place in a male dominated world of sex and violence.

Considering the global popularity of these novels, it now begs the question, will there be a movie? Or better yet, a series!

Lorna escapes her conventional Kensington family to marry an artist, Matt. They settle in a small cottage in Somerset, where their daughter Molly is born. But World War II puts an end to their immense happiness. Molly will have to wait longer to find love as she gamely grapples with work and sex in 1960s London, while Ruth, Lorna's granddaughter, has to wait longer still.

An enthralling examination of interweaving love and history, Consequences pinpoints the moments when three women in very different times find love.

We had a large turn out this month so our discussion turned out to be quite ‘lively’ (pun intended!). And although our scores were not far stretching (6-8), the overall perception of the story and Lively’s style was broad.


Most of us agreed the writing was clever and well structured with beautiful language that satisfied even the most dedicated logophile amongst us. Some loved the gentleness of the story and its characters with a predictability that they found comforting. Then again, there were those who found these exact traits annoying and felt the author needed to delve further into the historical setting and social changes of the time.


It was suggested that the characters, although likeable enough, were merely sketched and not drawn. We decided this particular aspect of the writing is exactly what kept the book’s pace going forward. Many of the characters’ inner workings were left for the reader to form themselves and the many family dynamics experienced through the generations were well done, without hysterics. Something a good percentage of our group appreciated.


Everyone found the artist, Matt and his wood-carving interesting and felt the author had done her research well here. In true Viti style, she suggested the wood-carving and its distinct lines could be a representation of the story line itself … as an outline with the details to be imagined by the appreciator of the art, and as such, the reader.


The title was also discussed, concluding that each generation was to live with the consequences of those before them. Overall, it was decided that as a woman’s book Consequences told a subtle and thoughtful story of familial relationships through the generations, with skilfully constructed characters and a storyline aimed to please, if not the hard-core reader, somewhere in the middle of enjoyable contemplation.

Slade House by David Mitchell

Turn down Slade Alley – narrow, dank and easy to miss, even when you’re looking for it. Find the small lack iron door set into the right-hand wall. No handle, no keyhole, but at your touch it swings open. Enter the sunlit garden of an old house that doesn’t quite make sense; too grand for the shabby neighbourhood, too large for the space it occupies.

 

This unnerving, taut and intricately woven tale by one of our most original and bewitching writers begins in 1979 and reaches its turbulent conclusion around Hallowe’en, 2015. Because every nine years, on the last Saturday of October, a ‘guest’ is summoned to Slade House. But why has that person been chosen, by whom and for what purpose? The answers lie waiting in the long attic, at the top of the stairs …

As a club we won’t usually revisit an author for at least a few years, preferring instead to widen our reading scope to new or different writers. But after reading the Bone Clocks last year, the release of Slade House was a must … and soon, before the magic of Bone Clocks disappeared into whatever realm it came from!

Not so much a sequel as a supplement to Bone Clocks, Slade House captivated us in much the same way … with a clever, complex storyline, fabulous characters and a fantastically enthralling plot. There was much to discuss of Mitchell’s bizarre tale, and thankfully Viti came through with her ever enlightening observations, such as the reference to Alice in Wonderland (the door to Slade House), and the house itself being likened to Doctor Who’s tardis. Then there was Mitchell’s use of the number 9, which Viti advised is the ancient symbol of regeneration, something the twins were totally into (albeit, in a most nasty way!) within the walls of Slade House.

We also made comment on Mitchell’s ability to balance the natural and supernatural. There are few of us that would say fantasy is our preferred genre, yet the exploits conjured up in his latest offering had all but one of us applauding. Denise was unimpressed, with little patience for the characters or the storyline. It is worth noting that she has never really taken to any of David Mitchell’s books, so it is not surprising that this one also left her with little joy.

As for the rest of us, we are keen to see what will come next … left with an open ending to rival the best, we have no doubt that Slade House will be back! The big question is … in what form?