Before The Time Was Taken...

My discovery of 2011 is undoubtedly Steven Carroll, an Australian writer I'd never come across before this year, but who is now one of my favourite contemporary writers.  Of course, as a winner of the Miles Franklin Award, Australia's best-known literary prize, he wasn't exactly anonymous, but a random decision to read The Art of the Engine Driver earlier this year has led to a wish to devour all of his novels as soon as possible.

I haven't quite got there yet, but I was still very pleased when I heard that he had a new book out, and even happier when I was amazingly able to borrow it from my local library, almost before it was actually released.  Add to that the fact that this new book was rumoured to be an addition to the sublime Glenroy Trilogy of novels, and you can imagine that when I started reading Spirit of Progress, I was one very happy bunny indeed.

Spirit of Progress, named after a train in the story, is actually both a prequel and sequel to The Glenroy Trilogy.  We begin in France, where Michael, now a writer, is waiting for a train.  On seeing the driver's compartment, he is reminded of his father, and this episode enables the writer to take us back in time to 1946 - ten years before the original trilogy began.  Now we are in postwar Melbourne, a city mourning lost heroes and welcoming back the lucky ones who have survived the war.  And somewhere, ten kilometres or so north of the city, is a block of land that will one day become a home...

The war-weary city of Melbourne is ready to move on with its life, preparing itself for the imminent baby boom, little knowing that this population increase will bring with it a move from the city to the open suburbs on Melbourne's fringe.  However, not everyone is looking forward to spending their life here; a substantial group of frustrated artists, trapped in Melbourne because of the war, dream of escaping to the great art capitals of the world.  As they prepare to display their work at an exhibition in the city, a culmination of the pent-up artistic energy of the war years, what is ostensibly a celebration of a talented group of people becomes, in fact, the farewell of an emigrant generation.

As well as encountering several old friends, in Spirit of Progress we are introduced to many new characters: Tess, the owner of the gallery, the one person who understands what the artists have, and how fragile it is; George, a journalist who wants to be a writer - or perhaps a writer who may be becoming a journalist; and Sam, first among equals in the bohemian art society, who is looking for inspiration for this final exhibition...

Despite my love for Carroll's work, it actually took me a while to warm to this latest novel, and that was mainly down to two things.  The first was the relatively minor role that the chief protagonists of the previous books, Vic, Rita and Michael, played in this one.  Although Vic eventually grew more important and contributed to some of the important storylines, Rita appeared rarely and briefly - and Michael spent most of it waiting to be born.  The second reason had more to do with my expectations than reality, as I had got it into my head that this was to be a sequel.  It took me a while to adapt to the idea of placing the actions before the original books, but once I had, I began to enjoy it a lot more.

In The Gift of Speed and The Time We Have Taken, Carroll painted pictures of life at a crucial juncture, catching the spirit of the time between the past and the future, the moment of moving on.  This idea is expanded upon in Spirit of Progress as a city isolated by the tumultuous global events of recent years prepared to move on into an era that may already have been labelled 'Post-War', but which was still very much a blank slate.  The writer is fond of talking of History and Progress (usually with the attention-drawing capital letters), but what he also underlines is that Progress is constant and unrelenting; those who are the agents of Progress will eventually find themselves, however unwittingly, consigned to History...

This idea of the tension between past and future, caught in the fleeting present, is well displayed in several places in the novel.  The great exhibition, which will be the last hurrah of the artists before their inevitable flight to Europe, is almost a painting in itself, catching the painters and patrons in a moment which will soon belong to the past.  This passing of urban society is contrasted with the character of Skinner, a farmer, the last generation of his family, whose farm will soon be sacrificed to form part of the new suburb.

However, even those who form part of the future are not safe. Webster, the businessman who thrusts himself onto the scene, ready to create whole suburbs in his image, appears to have the future in the palm of his hand.  Those who have read the previous books in the trilogy, however, will know that he too will change from being an agent of Progress to just another footnote in History.

So, how does this compare to the rest of the trilogy?  Well, once I had left my preconceptions behind, I began to enjoy the book immensely.  The time taken to introduce the new characters eventually paid off, especially when their lives began to link up with those of Vic and his family.  While it can be read alone, having read the other three books gave the story a weight and poignancy that the casual reader would perhaps have missed.  Names, places and events lightly touched upon resonate greatly with readers who have already spent many an hour in Carroll's semi-fictional world...

It's fitting that, in a series which constantly revisits the idea of the moment of change and departure, I finish this post with the words of one of the characters on leaving Melbourne.  They are words which people, like myself, who no longer live where they were raised will fully understand:

"...although he will visit this city he has reluctantly called home for just on a quarter of a century, it will cease to be the home it was.  And the elsewhere to which he is going will both replace that home and never replace it.  And home itself, the very idea of it, will become something that requires thought and reflection, whereas until now he has always taken it for granted." p.260 (Fourth Estate, 2011)

More from Marvellous Melbourne

You may have noticed a lot of Aussie books in my reading list this year, and the responsibility for that can be placed firmly on the shoulders of two places: firstly, Joanne of Booklover Book Reviews, whose Aussie Author Challenge has got me hooked on local literature; and secondly, the fine people of the Casey-Cardinia Library Corporation, whose excellent system enables me to read these wonderful books without having to actually buy them at the extortionate prices charged Down Under.

This post will have mini-reviews of three wonderful books by three great writers, all of them from my adopted home town of Melbourne, and it was actually going to be a celebratory finishing post for the Aussie Author Challenge.  Today's offerings brought me up to thirteen for the year to date (!), but just as I was getting ready to pop the (metaphorical) champagne cork, I noticed the small print.  You see, the twelve required books had to be by a minimum of nine different authors, and my thirteen were the work of just eight...  Back to the drawing board, or, as I like to call it, the library web-site.  In the meantime, enjoy these short reviews anyway :)

*****
The Reasons I Won't Be Coming is a collection of short stories by Elliot Perlman, the author of the wonderful Three Dollars and Seven Types of Ambiguity.  It's an interesting collection of short stories (mostly) set in Melbourne, with a fascinating use of voice and perspective to hook you in to the stories.  They often start very abruptly, some with the protagonist talking to the reader as if in a monologue in a play, eventually widening the scope of events to reveal the full story.

Not all the stories are a total success (a point Perlman probably knows already, but which I'd like to point out anyway, is that readers are not prone to sympathising with lawyers who have been dumped by their married mistress after getting her pregnant...), and some do take a while to get going.  However, on the whole, they do eventually suck you in and make you think - which is always good in a short story.

One of the most interesting stories is Manslaughter, the story of a trial from start to finish, told through the voices of just about everyone involved - judge, jurors, accused, bailiff, lawyer, widow.  In a matter of a few dozen pages, the writer successfully conveys the complexities of a seemingly open-and-shut case, letting the reader in on what really happens in a high-profile court case and leaving them to make their own judgement as to how fair it all is.

The news on the grapevine is that Mr. Perlman has a new book coming out later this year, and all I can say is that it's about time.  While you're waiting though, why not give this little collection a go?  It's not as if there's any hurry...

*****
A slightly more prolific writer (although not by much) is Helen Garner, author of the notorious Monkey Grip, and The Children's Bach is another tale from a slightly-left-of-centre (in many ways) Melbourne family.  Dexter and Athena's comfortable life is disrupted by a chance encounter at Melbourne airport, where Dexter spots an old friend, the rather icy Elizabeth.  While Elizabeth herself causes few problems, it is the people she brings with her - little sister Vicki and Elizabeth's occasional lover Phillip - who turn the married couple's life upside down.

The Children's Bach is a very slender book, but it is beautifully written, and the central question of casual sex versus comfortable monogamy works well.  Athena is jolted out of a rut by her new acquaintances, and the question is whether this is a welcome break or a wake-up call.  Meanwhile, Dexter has to decide how he will handle Athena's behaviour and balance her (and his) behaviour against his principles.

The book is short, elegant and witty, but while it's a nice read, it's hard to avoid thinking that it's a little underwritten.  I found it hard to engage with the characters over such a short journey, with a lot of gaps where the narrative jumps to the next crisis.  I found myself wondering whether another writer could (and would) have made a longer, more detailed book from this...

*****

...a writer, for example, like the extremely talented Steven Carroll.  Having read, and loved, his wonderful Melbourne Trilogy books earlier this year, I picked up his most recent novel The Lost Life from the library shelves with great anticipation.  It's a very different book in some ways, set in England in 1934 and based around a chance encounter with the famous poet T.S. Eliot.  However, once past the initial set up, The Lost Life slips into the mesmerising style that made Carroll's other novels such successes.

The central figure of the novel is Catherine, a young woman in the centre of the golden summer of her youth, enjoying the first flushes of love with Daniel, a recently graduated university student.  When they accidentally spy on Eliot and his 'special friend' Emily Hale during a walk around the parks of a local stately home, they become unwillingly mixed up in his tangled relationships.  As Catherine gets to know Emily better, she realises that there are parallels between their situations, which the older woman, an accomplished actress who seems to be playing roles rather than acting naturally, is determined to exploit for her own purposes.

Although the phrase Carpe Diem isn't actually mentioned in the book, it's one that instantly springs to mind.  Catherine gradually becomes aware that her love, an awkward affair devoid of any real privacy, may be more fleeting than she imagined.  Unless she takes her opportunity for a brief moment of intimacy, she may end up regretting it for the rest of her life.  Just as Emily Hale has her own, lingering regrets...

Carroll's usual time-jumping style lets us know in advance a lot of information while concealing the important, emotional events.  He also gets inside the characters' heads, describing matters from several viewpoints, emphasising both the similarities and the subtle differences between opinions on the same event.  As you can tell, I think he's great :)

All in all, another well-crafted story from my big discovery of 2011.  And the best bit?  He's also got a new novel due out later this year.  Marvellous Melbourne indeed ;)

Time Well Worth Taking

As part of my ongoing quest to read more quality Australian novels, I decided earlier in the year to read Steven Carroll's Miles-Franklin-Award-Winning book The Time We Have Taken - then I discovered it was the third in a trilogy of tales...  So, having read the excellent The Art of the Engine Driver in January, and the even better The Gift of Speed in March, almost four months later, I finally got around to reading the final part of the series.

As I settled down on the settee to read the first few chapters, and the familiar, measured prose began to wash over me, I began to realise that I was feeling... well, happy.  A wave of nostalgic anticipation washed over me as I realised how much I was looking forward to reading the book.  Luckily, it didn't disappoint :)

So what is it about Carroll's work that I enjoy so much?  In lieu of actually writing a review (which is actually a bit pointless anyway as it's all about the journey, not the destination), I thought I'd try to pin down what it is I like about his writing.

1) It's a series.

More of a personal thing than a rock-solid recommendation, I know, but anyone who has frequented my blog over the past couple of years will know that I enjoy following writers and characters (e.g. The Barchester Chronicles, The Trilogy of the Rat), especially when the characters develop noticeably over the years and pages.  This is certainly the case here: we have seen Michael grow up from a solitary cricket-mad boy to a young man in love with life, literature and women; we've seen Vic finally pluck up the courage to make a break and start the final phase of his life; and we've seen how Rita copes with the changes, moving on in some ways, staying put in others.

2) It's set in Melbourne.

Again, a personal preference.  I've lived here now for nine years, without actually living in Melbourne proper.  For me, the setting of a novel in Melbourne gives me a glimpse of time past, an alternative history that I could have shared (but didn't).

3) The writing is wonderful.

Carroll's prose is deceptively profound, simple language blending into a greater whole, progressing casually and with a measured step - time is there for taking, and enjoying.  There's no need to rush.  The use of the present tense to describe events, along with the frequent switch in perspectives, gives the novel a slightly detached feel, in the manner of a scientist studying subjects through a microscope.  However, Carroll carefully adds feeling to his characters, like an artist slowly and meticulously creating his subjects on a canvas.

At this point, you're probably expecting samples of this language, but I'm not going to oblige.  Partially because I'm too lazy to copy it out (!), but mainly because the beauty consists not in any particular sentence or passage, but in the continual build up of the prose - the whole becoming greater than the sum of its parts...

4) The way the novels deal with time.

The three books are not plot driven.  Things do happen, but there is no sense of surprise or suspense; in fact, the writer informs the reader of several important events well before they happen.  We know from the start of The Time We Have Taken that Michael's relationship with Madeleine is a fleeting, doomed affair, destined to remain imprinted in his memory as his first real love.  We are also aware of Vic's eventual fate from early on in the first of the three books (and it hasn't even happened yet!).

These glimpses of the future though are part of a global theme of time being less linear than ever present and simultaneous.  All the main characters are seen at multiple points in their lives, occasionally at the same time, either through memories or the intrusion of the narrator. As Vic nears the end of his time, he feels as if he is no longer living his life sequentially, but able to experience all parts randomly, childhood memories coming back and appearing as strong, as real, as his daily routine.

This use of time leads to the idea of multiple selves, the thought that a life consists not of one constantly-changing personality but of a series of versions of the self, the before me, the after me, or as Vic muses, the me-Vic and the them-Vic.  There's something very Proustian about the whole idea (I've just read some Proust, so forgive me if I'm stretching the point at the moment and viewing all my reading in his light...), and I'm wondering if Michael's girlfriend's name is a random, innocent choice...

Oh, there's so much more I'd like to talk about, such as the way certain characters or expressions would mean little to the new reader but speak volumes to anyone who has read the first two books, the style Carroll uses to show several actions happening simultaneously in different locations, the subtle use of real-life figures (Whitlam, the mountain on wheels)... enough.  I think I've managed to get my point across, and that is, of course, that I loved The Time We Have Taken, and I love the three books as a trilogy even more.

I'll definitely be looking for some of Carroll's earlier books, but I can't help feeling, as I always do, a little sad on reaching the end of the series.  Is that how it really ends, or is there room for more adventures, for one more book (or two) - we're only up to 1970, after all.  Perhaps, just perhaps (and I hope Mr. Carroll agrees), there's still a little more time left to be taken...

This Side of the Ditch

Last month it was all about NZ writers (here and here) - this time we're on my side of the ditch, catching up with some Aussie books I've read over the past couple of months.  Marg, from The Adventures of an Intrepid Reader (among many others), has declared April 'Aussie Author Month', and this is a good opportunity to do my bit.  Also, it's about time I posted for Booklover Book Reviews' Aussie Author Challenge ;)  Here then are a few short summaries, with musical accompaniment (just because!).

*****
The Book: Monkey Grip by Helen Garner
Where and When: Melbourne, Mid-1970s
What: Nora, a member of a group of bohemian dole bludgers, falls for the charismatic Javo, a rugged heroin addict.  Over a long year of heartache and hangovers, she battles with her misgivings about the relationship, balancing casual drugs and sex with her duties as a mother and her longing for the seductive addict in her bed.  The book of a generation - definitely not my generation though.  Good as it is, it says nothing to me about my life...
Soundtrack Song by The Smiths: This Charming Man

*****

The Book: The Gift of Speed by Steven Carroll
Where and When: Melbourne, 1960-1
What: In the sequel to The Art of the Engine Driver, we return to the Melbourne suburbs to watch the teenaged Michael in his quest to become a fast bowler - and to understand how girls work.  The book concentrates on two other characters: factory owner Mr. Webster and Frank Worrell, captain of the touring West Indian cricket team...  In an absolutely wonderful book, Michael must overcome annoying physical niggles and his shyness (which one could describe as criminally vulgar, I suppose...) to make the most of his golden summer.
Soundtrack Song by The Smiths: The Boy with the Thorn in his Side


*****

The Book: 1988 by Andrew McGahan
Where and When: Northern Territory, 1988...
What: As Australia gears up for its 200th (White) birthday, Gordon celebrates twenty-one fruitless years by heading to the Territory to work for six months on a remote weather station, hoping to kickstart his writing career.  Instead, he finds that when you're feeling down, the problem may not be where you are, but where you're at.  A fascinating Aussie road-trip story (with added crocodiles).
Soundtrack Song by The Smiths: How Soon is Now?

*****
The Book: The Multiple Effects of Rainshadow by Thea Astley
Where and When: Palm Island, Brisbane, Townsville, 1930-1957
What: Another tale of madness in the tropics, Heart of Darkness with a Queensland setting.  Based on a true story, the boss of a small island goes mad, shooting his workers and blowing up his own house - but that's just the beginning...  Told in multiple sections, each with its own different narrative voice, the book explores the endemic racism of pre- and post-WWII Queensland.  Gripping, poignant, unusual and thought provoking, The Multiple Effects of Rainshadow explores the way history has a funny way of repeating itself.
Soundtrack Song by The Smiths: Stop Me if You Think You've Heard This One Before

*****
The Book: The Spare Room by Helen Garner
Where and When: Melbourne, Recent times
What: A Melbourne grandmother prepares a room for the visit of her friend, a bohemian Sydney woman with cancer.  As she watches her friend throw her trust (and money) into the hands of charlatans, she begins to lose her ability to keep quiet and smile blankly at her friend's ever-more-delusional state of mind.  A short, but vibrant, novel, exploring how we cope when hope is all that's left, and what we do to cling onto that hope, even when it's time to let go.
Pessimistic Soundtrack Song by The Smiths: Girlfriend in a Coma
Optimistic Soundtrack Song by The Smiths: There is a Light that Never Goes Out

*****
Plenty more to come for me in terms of Australian literature in the coming weeks.  I finally have the third part of Carroll's trilogy, the Miles Franklin winning The Time We Have Taken, plus Praise, the book to which 1988 is the prequel.  More happy reading to come :)  What Aussie books have you been reading, people?

Life and Trains

After completing 2010's Aussie Author Challenge recently, it's straight on to the 2011 edition, a little more arduous than last year's version.  I have somewhat foolishly pledged to read twelve books by at least nine different Australian writers (one a month - no problem, right?).  The first stop was Wikipedia, to have a quick look at Miles Franklin Award winners for a little inspiration, and I clicked on the 2008 winner, Steven Carroll's The Time We Have Taken, only to find that it was the third in a trilogy (of which the other two were also shortlisted for the award).  Then it was off to the library web-site to do a quick search for the first of the trilogy, and a couple of hours later I was was plucking it from the shelves.  Isn't technology wonderful :)

*****
The first of Carroll's trilogy is called The Art of the Engine Driver and is set in 1950s suburban Melbourne (although, in today's sprawling metropolis, the 'new' suburb, 9kms from the centre, would count as inner-city!).  Vic, a passionate train driver, his wife Rita and their son Michael are on their way down the road to a party, while Paddy Ryan, a highly-experienced colleague and mentor of Vic, is about to take the Spirit passenger train on its run from Melbourne to Sydney.  Both these events will end up affecting the lives of the characters populating the pages of this book, although perhaps not in the way it may first seem.

The novel is basically separated into two unevenly-weighted strands, with the bulk of the story centred on the family's long, slow walk to the party (and, believe me, it's a slow walk).  Luckily, the author doesn't restrict himself to the three unities, and the text meanders through time and place with flashbacks (flashesback?!) and flashforwards, as well as switching rather impressively from third- to first-person for several of the main characters, something which has the effect of allowing us multiple glimpses of the same occurrence.

Despite these tantalising glimpses of what the future may hold, however, the meaning of the events remain elusive until the end of the story.  Certainly, I was expecting the party to be leading up to some sort of climax, but Carroll skilfully turns it into a more subtle affair, slight cracks appearing in the fabric of relationships, rather than the gaping chasms the reader is suspecting may appear.  Like the slow walk to the party, and the ever-present comet in the sky, things happen gradually in Carroll's world.

As much as it is about Vic, his family and his frustrated dreams, The Art of the Engine Driver is also about Melbourne, and Australia, in the 1950s.  The newly-constructed suburb, a vast plain cleared of trees, ready for the families to arrive and the houses to go up, is populated by people from all over the world: from the Anglos with their dubious (or proud) heritage, to the newly-arrived mainland Europeans.  The contrast between the first, hesitant signs of suburbia and the wild, uncontrolled bushland is a very familiar one to me; my own house is situated not far from Melbourne's new urban fringe - which is just slightly further out from the CBD than was the case in the fifties...

While some things are very recognisable today (such as Michael's desire to be a fast bowler!), some are relics of a time long gone.  The misguided '6 o'clock swill', the early closing times for pubs which merely resulted in working men drinking themselves sick between five and six p.m., is sketched out beautifully(?) here, legions of drunken workers staggering out of the pubs as bar staff literally hose down the beer- (and vomit-) soaked floors.  We also see the slow but inevitable signs of progress, shown in the replacement of the old steam engines with the new diesel trains - and the preference for the new-fangled 'rock' music among the younger generation...

The Art of the Engine Driver (and the title does make sense as this art is a pivotal part of the novel) is well worth reading, and I'll definitely be hunting out the second book in the trilogy, The Gift of Speed.  And that, you see, is just what makes this challenge so difficult: how am I supposed to read books by nine different Australian authors if I like all the books?  I'll just end up reading lots of books by the same author.  At this rate, I'll need about twenty books just to make it to nine writers :(