'Ache' by Eliza Henry-Jones

Ache by Eliza Henry-Jones
Fourth Estate, Harper Collins

‘Ache’ is a brave and perfectly constructed story for our new times: showing how disasters impact on families and communities and how people adapt and survive in different ways.

Much like Henry-Jones’ first novel ‘In the Quiet’, ‘Ache’ features layered and finely drawn characters. These characters have all been damaged by a terrible bush fire that tore through their town and mountain the year before – some have stayed put, shell-shocked – others have fled to the city only to remain scared and haunted by the events.

The central characters are the heroine, Annie, and her daughter Pip. All the other characters radiate and span Annie’s life from her youth on the mountain to her adult life as a partner and mother.

Discussions on motherhood, mistakes and assumptions made from love, fear and survival can carry through generations are well handled and layered.
'Ache' was a juxtapositional piece to read on a beach holiday surrounded by so much water. But Stradbroke itself had been ravaged by one of the largest bush-fires in Australian history.

'Ache' was a juxtapositional piece to read on a beach holiday surrounded by so much water. But Stradbroke itself had been ravaged by one of the largest bush-fires in Australian history.

Henry-Jones experience and study in the field of trauma shines through the novel in the ways characters react and cope with the terrifying bush-fire event.

Cleverly, ‘Ache’ opens many months after the fire when the characters are living their altered and devastated lives. Annie is living in Melbourne away from the mountain where she grew up but her thoughts and dreams are increasingly drawn there.

The language, word pictures of place and the detail and evocative depiction of rural life were perfectly rendered and like ‘tree-change voyeurism’ for this city-dweller. Descriptions and rendering as part of the fabric of the place include chickens, bees, lyre birds, and of course, horses. They are all much more than background and are intrinsic to the novel in terms of the life, place and what’s at stake.

Cylinder Beach ready with 'Ache'

Cylinder Beach ready with 'Ache'

This reader hopes that ‘Ache’ is compulsory reading for every politician who likes donning the Rural Fire Fighters Uniform for camera ready volunteering. They may even donate a relatively small amount of money on the one hand compared to the donations they take from the Fossil Fuel lobby (while denying the existence of Climate Change) on the other. Their obsequiousness to this industry is fueling these ‘Super-Fire’ bush-fires (the sort ‘Ache’ describes) that are coming earlier, lasting longer and destroying more. Perhaps books like ‘Ache’ which depict the harrowing, devastating and murderous impact of these events will help them realise the voters have joined the dots and there can see the consequences of their behaviour. I read 'Ache' while on holiday on beautiful Stradbroke Island itself the victim of increasingly savage bushfires, the worst being the most recent in 2014.

‘Ache’ has laconic, wry Australian humour which allows the reader moments of relief in the trauma and devastation. The character of Nigel in particular was well done and a star of the book for me.  Annie’s ‘made family’ was a reflection of contemporary Australia and the changing face of parenthood.

The subplot of the TV series was a clever addition providing a common enemy, unwanted outsiders and triggers for hostility and remembering. The crew and producer were used at key moments for different reasons and results. It also showed the increasingly desensitised world of the 24 hour news cycle and social media as distraction and isolator. The use of an individual to act as a figurehead and easy visual summary for everything about a tragedy: in this case Annie escaping on horseback through the flames clutching Pip.

The healing of the mountain – along with the characters that can be healed – was finely judged and paced taking the reader along seamlessly.

'Ache’ is an evocative, compassionate and cathartic depiction of loss in an Australian landscape being reshaped by devastating, as yet unchecked human impacts. Congratulations Eliza Henry-Jones for this fine and nuanced depiction of modern Australian life.


'The Birdman's Wife' by Melissa Ashley: Review #AWW2017

This is my first review under my pledge to Australian Women Writers Challenge AWW2017

The Birdman’s Wife by Melissa Ashley
Affirm Press, 2016

‘The Birdman’s Wife’ is the timely resurrection to prominence of Elizabeth Gould, a fine artist and wife of John Gould, a noted Ornithologist in Regency England. The book tells Elizabeth’s story from through courtship, marriage and motherhood focusing on her work as an artist. As a work of ‘historical fiction’ the time and multiple settings are so well researched and depicted they come alive including the figures of Edward Lear, Charles Darwin and the Franklin's. The Regency world in all its contradiction and change is seen in the lives and rise of the Gould’s and their family.

Here's one of my Tasmanian Tweets featuring the inside cover of this beautifully written and produced book. Which one do you think is the Resplendent Quetzal? Hint long green tail feathers...

Here's one of my Tasmanian Tweets featuring the inside cover of this beautifully written and produced book. Which one do you think is the Resplendent Quetzal? Hint long green tail feathers...

Elizabeth Gould: a modern woman?

It was a clever strategy of Ashley to imagine her heroine, Elizabeth Gould in a modern way, as a woman much like today’s professional mother who had to do it all. Elizabeth is a worker, mother, provider, lover – all pre-modern obstetrics, telephone, and even ocean liner. This depiction encourages readers to identify with Elizabeth despite the large historical gap and her obvious added assistance of servants, governess’s and cooks (and even mother and relation to look after assorted children while the Gould’s voyage to Australia). This stance also allows Elizabeth to voice other ideas narratively, in keeping with modern views regarding the abundant specimen capturing of her husband’s expeditions. It allowed Ashley to offer criticism of the practice through the character and also to have Elizabeth, liberate some prized captives. To this reader there were parallels between the treatment of the native animals in Australia and that of the aboriginals. That they were all treated as specimens to be used as the English saw fit, without any qualms of conscience. The unnecessary deaths of the Australian animals captured for the return voyage to England was particularly hard to bare and written so deftly as to ride that fine balance between the ‘superiority’ of the modern reader and the outdated, immoral former modes of behaviour. The character of Elizabeth at least, shows remorse for this savage waste.

Loss, family and sea travel

Ashley handled the loss of Elizabeth’s early children with great sympathy, compassion and depth which helped bring the character to life and importantly again differentiate her from the relentless desire to ‘collect’ and ‘possess’ seen in her husband.

The voyage to Australia and the rendering of convict era Tasmania was well done and the difficulty for families being separated by hemispheres pre reliable communication added to the layering of the character of Elizabeth. The novel presented five Elizabeth’s: mother, wife, artist, sister and friend and each role allowed Ashley to further develop and round her heroine. The interactions between Elizabeth and her brother in Australia was made more moving knowing she would probably never see him again after she returned to England.

Ashley has a great knowledge regarding birds and taxonomy and this depth and experience comes through on every page, especially the sections when dissections are occurring in the UK, on the voyages, and in Australia. The respect Ashley has for Elizabeth and her life and challenges is also evident and richly shown throughout.

Collecting: a construct of time, place and ideology

Fortuitously, I read the book while on holidays in Tasmania, where it was partly set. As an aside, while in Launceston, I saw ‘The Art of Science - Nicholas Baudin’s Voyagers 1800-1804’ an art exhibition of French explorers of Australia and their artworks from their voyages. I attended a lecture and was interested to learn the French didn’t kill and return stuffed specimens for benefactors as the English (Gould et al) did, they drew and painted them only. Interestingly of course, they also only visited Australia, never ‘claiming’ it as their colony. The French expeditions predated the Gould’s.
One of the biggest insights for me from the novel was the act of collecting itself and what was entailed in the Gould expeditions. The detail Ashley provided of the sheer number of specimens killed shocked me. I think I'd always assumed they were all more like the French explorers and drawing from nature not killing and preserving to take back trophies for museums or individual rich collectors.

Art and research creating layered characterisation

Scenes are cleverly done offering layers of characterisation for multiple characters simultaneously. For example the portrait painting scenes where the reader learns perhaps more about John Gould and his insecurities, cunning and political maneuvers than they do of Elizabeth.

It’s hard to choose, but my favourite scenes were those depicting Elizabeth lost in her art, in the sheer ecstasy of creating and seeing something appear and fuse together on her blank page born from her sheer talent and vision. The near possession Elizabeth experiences while creating the Resplendent Quetzal causes a very moving communion with her deceased children.

Reading the authors note I was filled afresh with admiration at Ashley’s achievements in rendering Elizabeth Gould, having only eight pages of her diary remaining to act as a decoder for her thoughts and voice. Everything else was gleaned from years of research and study in Australia and America towards Ashley’s PhD. That layering of information and detail is rendered with dexterity.

Book Production Values: Congrats Affirm!

I can’t complete the review without reference to the production values of the book. I’m sure there’s many an Australian author and publisher in awe of this thing of wonder: a hard cover first novel. The beautiful Wedgwood or Robin’s Egg blue with its reproduction of Elizabeth Gould’s nested Fairy-Wrens feeding around a ‘tear’ invite or lure the reader further. Inside there are many illustrations featured in the book including the pivotal Resplendent Quetzal.

This is an important work of redress allowing a woman of note to step out into the light again from where she had been hidden and neglected behind the plumage of her husband. Thank you Melissa Ashley for letting Elizabeth Gould ruffle some feathers again. I look forward to Melissa’s next book.

Give Australian books for Christmas!

Here's a Xmas Book list covering most categories

This is a great list covering fiction, non fiction, YA, poetry etc. All by Australian women and all with links to purchase! I hope it makes the mad scramble easier. Only six weeks to go... I know right ...

Thanks to fellow authors Claire Halliday (who started the ball rolling) and Rachel Watts (who wrote this blog post of our names and books):