I bet you’re thinking I picked this book as my first blog post to show how fancy my reading tastes are, my bookshelves positively teaming with Booker Prize winning reads. Not true. I recently went to a wedding at Gleniffer Reserve on the NSW North Coast, an absolutely magical spot with a super cute church, and was told by one of the guests that the place takes centre stage in Carey’s 1988 book. Not long after, I spotted it in a second hand bookshop and snapped it up, and settled down pre-Christmas to have a crack.
Fast forward to about a week ago, when I finally finished it. Yes, the church at Gleniffer was the scene for the opening chapters, and I had that warm sense of ‘I’ve been there!’ that always adds an extra dimension to a book (Melbournians will know this feeling from reading ‘The Slap’) but that wore off pretty quickly and I realized I had a sleeping pill in book form. I’ve never been the hugest fan of period literature, so mix that with Carey’s penchant for extreme detail – I don’t really care if the buttons on his cuff are bronze but thanks for sharing – and the religious theme, it was a triple whammy. It was the short chapters that kept me going, holding out hope for something, anything, interesting to happen; next thing you know I’m at the 180 page mark (which is the psychological goalpost where you feel you’ve already invested so much time that you Must.Finish.This.God.Damned.Book). This is where the tried and trusted ‘skimming’ approach I taught myself in uni came in handy. Gambler, glass blowing, goat sacrifice……oops, that last one I might have snuck in there to liven things up.
I should have liked it more, considering that Lucinda is a pretty kick arse female character, but Oscar and his God bothering impotence were so frustrating that she faded into the background for me. The story is epic, and the colonial setting is the scene for one of the book’s truly shocking moments depicting the treatment of the indigenous by Australia’s settlers, but as a whole, it failed to grab my imagination.
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See, that's how I feel about Patrick White: Ugh, come ON already with the STORY! Yes yes, you're very literary and fabulous, darling, and how wonderfully post-colonial of you, but I don't care for your characters and I couldn't give two hoots for your narrative.
ReplyDeleteI think this was the first Peter Carey book I read. In fairness, I don't actually remember much of it, except the kind of depraved relationship and the kind of incredible sounding landscape, but clearly I thought it was ok, because I've gone on to read at least 3 others I can think of: My Life as a Fake (which I actually listened to on talking book, because that's how I roll), Bliss, and His Illegal Self (also on talking book). The first two I loved, and the last one not so much. I think you should give one of those other two a crack when you're ready to give him another go.
I agree, Nicole! I still have that book sitting on my shelf with 10 pages to go - I couldn't finish it! I did read the last page though... I really, however, enjoyed Illywacker, and the True History of the Kelly Gang isn't bad - so I also agree with Amber, maybe another go?
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