'A Constant Hum' by Alice Bishop

From the BLURB:

It’ll all be okay, my mother said, and I remember the way her familiar face scrunched, afterwards – reflected back at me, in the fogged bathroom mirror, when she thought I couldn’t see. 

Before the fire – before the front of flames roars over the hills—the ridge is thick with gums. After the fire, all the birds have gone. There is only ash and melted metal, the blackened husks of cars. And the lost people: on the TV news in borrowed clothes, in temporary accommodation on the outskirts of the city, or remembered in small offerings outside the town hall. 

A Constant Hum grapples with the aftermath of bushfire with an eye for the telling detail. Some of these stories cut to the bone; others are empathetic tales of survival, even hope. All are gripping and stunningly written, heralding the arrival of a vital new voice in Australian fiction.

Well, that was a feast made from grief and completely, hauntingly, divine. ‘A Constant Hum’ by Alice Bishop is a Short Story Collection based on the aftermath of the 2009 Black Saturday bushfires. 

It features a variation of viewpoints and Short Story forms - everything from minisagas to microfiction, and microstory (of only a few words) interspersed with flash fiction and longer form short stories too. 

Horses

There were still reports, years later, of the horses that night: their coats matted and sweet from sweat in smoke-blurred headlights.  

The pace of them - longer and short form one after the other - makes it read like the waves and stages of grief. And sometimes we get the barest hint of an aspect of the tragedy, like it’s all we can handle of the whole. One line a character utters in a story hints at these fleeting moments: ‘It’s okay, Haze, sometimes things just disappear.’ 

It’s stunning, and unsurprising that Bishop herself grew up in Christmas Hills - one town devastated by the fires. This collection feels both assured and vulnerable, a hard and hurting reading but necessary and so very, very fulfilling. I loved it.

It’s also worth reading her acknowledgments at the back - and the very end, where Bishop lists all the places where many of the stories were previously published or recognised: journals and magazines, websites, and short story prizes ... it highlights how long Bishop has been writing and finessing this collection, and it’s proof-positive that building a writing resume (particularly of your short-story work) is well worth doing. It takes time, but the best things often do.

5/5

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'The Love of a Bad Man' by Laura Elizabeth Woollett

Received from the Publisher 

From the BLURB:

A schoolgirl catches the eye of the future leader of Nazi Germany. An aspiring playwright writes to a convicted serial killer, seeking inspiration. A pair of childhood sweethearts reunite to commit rape and murder. A devoted Mormon wife follows her husband into the wilderness after he declares himself a prophet.

The twelve stories in The Love of a Bad Man imagine the lives of real women, all of whom were the lovers, wives, or mistresses of various ‘bad’ men in history. Beautifully observed, fascinating, and at times horrifying, the stories interrogate power, the nature of obsession, and the lengths some women will go to for the men they love.

‘The Love of a Bad Man’ is a short story collection by young Australian author, Laura Elizabeth Woollett.

I have been dying to read this book, ever since I met Laura Elizabeth Woollett at the launch of ‘Betanarratives’, where we both had short stories in the ‘Body Language’ edition. Laura gave me a very brief run-down of her short story collection that was coming out with Scribe, describing it very succinctly as; "lovers, wives, or mistresses of various 'bad' men in history,” and I was so on-board. I’d been keeping my eyes and ears peeled ever since, and now that I’ve read the collection I’m not the least bit surprised that this tantalising theme completely holds-up under the weight of Woollett’s considerable talent.

There are twelve stories in all, focused on real women throughout history, but telling their fictionalised stories. Some of these women I was already familiar with (Hitler’s mistress Eva Braun, Blanche the sister-in-law to Bonnie and Clyde and Charles Manson’s California girls) but others were a welcome revelation and unusual little history lesson. The likes of Martha Beck (one half of "The Lonely Hearts Killers") and 13-year-old Caril Ann for her fateful relationship with a murderous greaser were all new to me. Even the stories of women I was familiar with had secret compartments to be unlocked in the telling, no matter that their lives have been reimagined by Laura. There were still sprinklings of truth; like discovering that Hitler probably had a sexual relationship with his niece, Geli Raubal, before she killed herself and he found young Eva Braun for example. I guarantee that these stories will set you off on a most macabre Internet search to satisfy the curiosity they invoke (there is also a very handy appendix that I cut away to after finishing individual stories, to stop me from putting the book down and interrupting my read with a Google search!).

I actually want to talk about ‘Suicide Squad’ in relation to ‘The Love of a Bad Man’ – which, I know, is totally out of left-field … but is it?

When I finished reading Woollett’s work, I went that weekend and saw ‘Suicide Squad’ in cinemas. There’s been a lot of talk around the movie’s particular disservice to fan-favourite character Harley Quinn, namely in making an even bigger mess of her already problematic and abusive relationship with The Joker. Read about that bizarre coupledom that goes to hell in a hand-basket in the movie here, here, hereand hereif you are so inclined. But I basically agree with everyone (even actress Margot Robbie) in just not getting that relationship, especially not the way it’s been portrayed in ‘Suicide Squad’ … But I actually want to talk about how Woollett’s entire collection can be seen through the pop-culture prism of Harley Quinn (who is a feminist icon for some fans, which I also don’t really get?)

Woollett is exploring various women who, – much like Harley Quinn – are seeking and accepting the love of bad men. The difference is that Woollett works damn hard to get to the ‘root of the root and the bud of the bud’ of this thing called love, and what she brings up are startling realisations. Sometimes uncomfortable, sometimes understandable but all of them are unique in trying to understand how these women tick. And she is very much interested in the women over the men in this collection. In most of the stories, the men are as unknowable to the reader as they are to their loves and lovers – which is often much appreciated (I don’t particularly want to work hard at understanding Hitler’s thinking, quite frankly). Woollett is embodying and writing to the flip of that ‘Behind every great man there's a great woman’ shtick, and instead saying that cliché works for bad men and women too.

‘You should go home while you can, baby,’ he tells me at a camp outside Waco. ‘I’ll put you on a bus right now. You’ll be back with your folks by nightfall.’  

I think of my poor old pa, deaf in one ear, and the little Okie church where he preaches to other farmers. But there’s no leaving Buck, no matter how much he tries to baby me, no matter how much bickering, dirt, and tears. This is the life we’ve been given, and if anything makes us better than animals, it’s each other. 

—‘Blanche’

The history-buff in me loved how Woollett also picks apart threads of time to provide context for these women and their crimes. It's another testament to how finely researched these women were, that Woollett really does look for their tender truths amongst the rubble of history;

According to my sister Ilse, there’s a Jew in Vienna who spends all his time listening to bored women talking. They lie down on a couch with their backs to him, plucking at their blouse buttons and going on about all sorts of things: their dreams, their memories, their childhoods.  

‘Why?’ I ask Ilse. 

‘For enlightenment,’ she says. ‘Of course, you wouldn’t know anything about that.’

—‘Eva’

… But if I’m being really honest, I just loved this collection for the gore-factor too. I think this is pretty close to a historical horror short story collection, and there’s something deliciously gothic and gory/gorgeous in picking at these wounds and wickedness;

On the night of Charlie’s frying, I watch the clock. I watch the minutes click by as they strap his arms to the chair and fix the metal bowl over his head. I look out at the darkened prison yard, my forehead cold against the window grating. The minute hand ticks one after midnight. I close my eyes and smell the smoke of him on the night air.

—‘Martha’

I adored this collection! ‘The Love of a Bad Man’ is definitely a favourite book of 2016 for me, and I’m keen to read whatever else Laura Elizabeth Woollett’s writes next.

5/5

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'Where the Shoreline Used to be' Stories from Australia and Beyond, Edited by Pam McIntyre and Susan La Marca

From the BLURB:

A rich and unique collection of short fiction, poetry, illustration and song lyrics from Australia and beyond.

An encounter with a strange boy on a beach, a dog in space, a world of butterflies, a talking whale, two girls who take on the world, and a thousand silver ghosts . . . Like the pull of the tide, these stories and poems will draw you in and encourage you to explore.

Funny, dramatic and poignant by turns, and featuring both established writers and exciting new talent, Where the Shoreline Used to Be is a stunning collection that will challenge and excite your imagination.

Including: Shaun Tan • Scot Gardner • Arwa Abousamra • Trudy White • Kate Miller-Heidke • Keir Nuttall • Felicity Castagna • Amie Kaufman • Alice Pung • Gayle Kennedy • Davina Bell • Meg Caddy • Courtney Barnett • Barry Jonsberg • Meg McKinlay • Kyle Hughes-Odgers • Shivaun Plozza • Ali Cobby Eckermann • Margo Lanagan • Wil Wagner • Lizzie Wagner • Tony Birch • Leanne Hall • PM Freestone • Andrea Hirata

‘Where the Shoreline Used to be’ is a collection of short stories from Australia and beyond, edited by Pam McIntyre and Susan La Marca, who also edited the 2012 short story collection, ‘Things A Map Won't Show You’.

I loved McIntyre and La Marca’s first short story collection, and was so happy to see them come out with a second book that’s perfectly oriented for the schools market. There are long and short-short stories, poems and artwork within – all of which will stir the imaginings of young readers, and hopefully encourage them to dabble themselves in this wonderful medium.

As with ‘Map’, ‘Shoreline’ is pretty free-form thematically – these authors, poets and illustrators are allowed to run rampant with that beautiful title, though a sense of time more than place feels to have the slight upper hand.

Margo Lanagan’s ‘The Queen’s Notice’ is visceral and feral-delightful, reading like something of a ‘Romulus and Remus’ foundation myth;

It was true, he did smell, strongly and cleanly of deep earth and queen-favour. His mind was beginning to fill with other things, as a quick-tunnel trickles full of loose earth, but he still had the queen’s scene in all his skin-folds, creeping in his mouth-hairs, raw and clear, warm and sweet.

—Margo Lanagan, The Queen’s Notice
 

Amie Kaufman’s autobiographical ‘I Swear This Part is True’, cuts to the very heart of storytelling in the first place, when it comes to our own histories;

We are our own myth makers, every one of us. This is why, when it comes to our stories, the manner of the telling matters very much. Tell it right, and you can shape and create a small part of yourself.

—Amie Kaufman, I Swear This Part is True

Arwa Abousamra’s very personal ‘Muslim Footprint’ navigates her arrival in Australia at the age of nine. She came from Saudia Arabia where she was born but that wouldn’t recognise her citizenship – and then she goes through her years of schooling when she was both made to feel like an outsider, and proud of her heritage.

The whole book is full of delicious morsels – there’s not one story in there that I didn’t love. But to pick out a very few more …

Kate Miller-Heidke’s 2009 song ‘Caught in the Crowd’ has the lyrics reproduced, and as a poem it blends in beautifully with time setting – of those moments in school when you’re more than a little ashamed of the way you behaved. Those who’ve fallen in love with Shivaun Plozza’s debut novel ‘Frankie’, will revel in her short story here called ‘The Point’ – about the sheer awkwardness of being in close proximity to other people’s families while being an interloper on vacation with them. The opening line – ‘the caravan stinks of tinned pineapple,’ – was so evocative, I could feel the humidity from the page. One of my favourite Australian artists – Kyle Hughes-Odgers – illustrates a short story by Meg McKinlay (‘How To Make A Bird’).

Pam McIntyre and Susan La Marca have turned their keen editorial eyes to delivering another fantastic collection of Australian short stories that are perfect for school study, and pure enjoyment too.

5/5  

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