Scar Town

Scar Town by Tristan Bancks was the this year's winner of the CBCA Book of the Year for younger readers, and it thoroughly deserved it. At first I thought the cover made this book seem more like a young adult title, but the three protagonists are all twelve or thirteen, which puts it firmly in the younger category. However, the themes and events of the story do lean into older territory, with the kids finding human bones and ill-gotten money in the first chapter.

The pace never slackens -- the action takes place over only a couple of days. The chapters are very short and punchy, perfect for reluctant readers, hauling you through the story with one cliff hanger after another. There are thrills and perils, bike chases, quite a bit of violence, family drama and buried secrets, as Will and his friends fight to solve a mystery and keep ahead of the bad guys.

I was interested to read in the author's note that Bancks first came up with this story idea back in 2009. The plot hinges on a body and some money hidden in a house which has been long-drowned at the bottom of a dam and only revealed as the water dries up during a drought. Meg McKinley used a similar device in her terrific book Surface Tension, and I also based part of Crow Country around a dried-up lake. There is something gripping about that image of the past, especially past wrongs, being covered up but eventually revealed -- irresistible to a writer's imagination! And I'm sure we all saw the same stories and images of revealed ruins during the millenial drought; but just look at the very different kinds of plots we came up with.

Dirrayawadha

Anita Heiss is a best selling, award winning Australian author. She also happens to be a Wiradyuri woman, and in Dirrayawadha (Rise Up) she explores the troubled, tragic history of colonisation around the Bathurst area, Wiradyuri country.

Dirrayawadha centres on a love story between a Wiradyuri woman, Miinaa, and an Irish convict, Dan O'Dwyer. But Dan and Miina work for a pair of white settlers, and Miinaa's brother is the famous warrior Windradyne, who led the First Nations resistance in the eighteenth century. Love, joy and loyalty are inextricably intertwined with brutality, loss and tragedy.

This is an important story, and we need more stories about colonised Australia that centre the First Nations point of view. Heiss also draws an interesting parallel between First Nations dispossession and  the history of Ireland, also violently colonised by the British. I'm not aware of any Irish political prisoners, like Dan, who could clearly see the comparison between the two, but it's a fascinating idea that gave me food for thought. Like Melissa Lukashenko's Edenglassie, this book also includes many First Nations words.

In some ways, Dirrayawadha adopts a modern sensibility, perhaps intentionally, which might help a wider readership more easily relate to the power dynamics of the historical situation. Expressions like hyped-up, maintaining autonomy, racism, culture, self-worth, and you don't get it might be anachronistic, but if they gain this novel more readers, I'll swallow it.

Look Back With Love

Good old Athenaeum comes up trumps again with this delightful memoir from Dodie Smith, author of I Capture the Castle and The Hundred and One Dalmatians. Born in 1896, Dodie (Dorothy) grew up in Manchester in a big house surrounded by aunts, uncles and grandparents -- the ultimate only child experience. Her father died in her infancy, but a plethora of uncles filled the gap.

Are antique author childhood memoirs my favourite kind of book? This one was sheer pleasure. The combination of social history, psychology, family dynamics and richly amusing writing made it impossible to resist. Smith wryly recounts her early acting experiences, casting herself as Sleeping Beauty (a mistake, because she lies unconscious for most of the story) and writing her own plays (terrible). It's interesting that adult Dodie clearly sees her later play-writing and acting as her chief legacy, where I had only the dimmest notion of her work in theatre and love her books above all.

The Athenaeum also holds the other two volumes of her autobiography, gorgeously titled Look Back With Astonishment and Look Back With Mixed Feelings. I can hardly wait.
 

Highway 13

One of my favourite kinds of novel (is it a novel?) consists of short story collections where the stories are linked -- by a single character, like Elizabeth Strout's Olive Kitteridge, or by a theme or an historical event, as is the case here. The twelve stories in Highway 13 revolve around a series of murders in the Australian bush, which bear striking parallels to the so-called Backpacker Murders executed by Ivan Milat. In Highway 13, the murderer is Paul Biga, of Polish extraction (Milat's father was Croatian), but his crimes are very similar -- hitchhikers and tourists picked up by the side of the road, taken into the forest and brutally murdered. I should add that neither the murderer or his crimes ever appear directly in any of the stories, but their off stage presence looms ever more powerfully because of it.

Highway 13 reminds us that the effects of crimes like these ripples out far beyond the victims themselves. We meet a 'tourist,' ghoulishly obsessed with the murders; true crime podcasters; someone who knew Biga's sister-in-law; the brother of a missing woman; one of Biga's neighbours; someone who managed to get away; a police officer who worked on the case. The stories swoop across the years, before and after the crimes were committed, and across continents.

I absolutely loved this book. Each story is beautifully written, shining a different light on something very dark: moving, clever and compassionate. Superb.

Joan Aiken Wolves Chronicles

My signed copy of The Wolves of Willoughby Chase is one of my prized possessions. The rest of the Wolves series I picked up at library book sales or in secondhand bookshops -- they are definitely not the covers I would have chosen, especially The Cuckoo Tree, which has one of the most mediocre cover illustrations I have ever seen and is ironically, probably my favourite to read.

I'm not sure if I've ever read the series back to back. I read them a lot in early high school, except for Black Hearts, which was the only one my school library didn't have, so I was never properly introduced to Dido Twite. She is a fabulous character -- smart, resourceful, brave and loyal, frank and decided -- and the series really takes off after her appearance.

There are so many things I love about these books. I adore the alternate history timeline, where the pesky Hanoverians are always conspiring to remove good king James Tudor-Stuart III from the throne and replace him with one of the Georges. I love the way Aiken writes about creature comforts, in what is quite a harsh world. Sylvia sleeping in a donkey-cart filled with geese and patchwork quilts remains a vivid image of warm, snuggly comfort. The food is evocative, too, whether it's clam chowder or huckle-my-buff (it's a real drink!), it always sounds super delicious and sustaining.

The plots are delightfully lively and inventive -- giant cannons to shoot from Nantucket to London, pink whales, wolves breaking into railways carriages, hot air balloons sailing over London, St Paul's Cathedral mounted on rollers to slide into the Thames during the coronation of King Richard IV.

But the real joy of these stories is the exuberant, intoxicating, rollicking play with language. Many of the words were unknown to me when I first read them, some of them are unknown to me even now, many of them no doubt originated in Aiken's own imagination, but nevertheless they always make perfect sense.

"This is a fubsy kind o' set-out,' Dido said to herself. "Still, no use bawling over botched butter -- have to make the best of it. I'd as soon not tangle overmuch wi' that old witch next door though. Only thing is, how are we going to get summat to eat? Oh well, maybe old Lady Tegleaze'll send some soup and jelly -- or cheese and apples -- no use fretting ahead. Queer old cuss she is, too -- all those rooms in that great workus of a place, and she has to send us to a ken that ain't much bigger than a chicken-coop."

There are other books featuring Dido and other members of her family whose existence I was previously unaware of, but I will definitely be keeping an eye out for them in future.