Australian Women's Book Review: Online

Hecate's
Australian Women's Book Review

ISSN 1033-9434
Editor:  Barbara Brook
Contributing Assistant Editor:  Katie Hughes
Photomontage:  Set in Stone, Adele Flood

Volume 12, 2000

Books for Young Australians: 2000

Reviewed by Margaret Steinberger

For this survey of recently published books for Australian youngsters and adolescents, I have chosen to focus on ten that have engaged my attention this year. There is no agenda for this choice, simply personal involvement.

For younger readers, Jane Godwin's The Family Tree (Puffin, $14.18, 148pp) will be enjoyed by those who like stories with a clear narrative line and a well-defined ending. This gentle story deals with the trials and joys of becoming a member of a blended family in the context of discovering the requirements of adjustments in a wider society. Harry, her “stepbrother”, and schoolmates, join protests masterminded by friend Jemima to fight the merger of their friendly and caring small school. Along the way Harry learns to recognise and appreciate friends and family members for their different kinds of strengths. A lesson in accepting change of many types and moving on ultimately proves not too difficult to learn. Through her clearly defined characterisation and satisfying sense of story, Godwin gives the reader an enjoyable reading experience, while steering clear of easy feel-good solutions.

The young adolescent will enjoy Sarah Walker's Camphor Laurel (Macmillan, $14.20, 157pp), as it deals with friendship and early forays into thoughts of sexual relationships. Melissa and Juliette are inseparable friends, a subject of some amazement to Melissa, who is used to being on the fringes of groups. She bathes in the reflected glory of Juliette, who is going to be “a famous actress”. Together they discover the delights and perils of a nude beach and a predatory taxi driver. A school skiing trip signals the beginning of hurtful changes when the girls fall out, arising from Juliette's characteristically dazzling assurance at the sport and Melissa's ineptitude. A parentally enforced separation can't last; only a new friendship between Juliette and Ursula can drive a wedge between the inseparables. For Melissa, confusion and misery set in, to the point where she betrays Juliette, passing on false information that will set in train a worrying series of events. Through this Melissa discovers what the less starry-eyed Ursula has always understood about Juliette – her fears and weaknesses. Walker expertly conveys the world of adolescent friendship, with its special joys and threats. This reader gained great enjoyment from the author's insight into the quiet, introspective Melissa, so loving and vulnerable, yet with flashes of extrovert assurance. The story has many satisfying elements, not the least of which may be a sense of recognition and understanding for young readers with a similar personality makeup.

Gillian Rubinstein's The Mermaid of Bondi Beach (Hodder, $10.95, 162pp) presents a great blend of well-crafted story, delicious humour and well thought-out design. Non-readers will be initially attracted by Anna Pignataro's illustrations, the clean and uncluttered typeface and the generous use of white space. Then the story takes over, with its myriad twists and turns. There's a cast of fun characters, all of whom ring true … well, except perhaps the Mermaid, but she is an absolute delight, with a wicked sense of humour. Jack, and friends Mikey and Anna, team up in a series of adventures which somehow along the way solve the problems of a grandmother's lost jewellery and lost lover, a composer who desperately needs a great singer, a mermaid who lives to sing, a father who needs a partner and a brother who has become a small-time crook. The Mermaid has to rank as one of Rubinstein's greatest characters.

For a rollicking read, you can't go past Rude Health (Macmillan, $12.01, 229pp) by Linda Aronson. It's a small, chunky book, befitting the small stature of the Rude family, and it fits easily in the hand – perfect for reading in the bath or for clandestine perusing under the desk at school. This riotous romp through the world of adolescence, school, gangs and family life has all the hallmarks of Aronson's stage work, with an emphasis on pace and dialogue. The author is particularly strong on conveying the special embarrassments of adolescence and parents. As if this were not enough, Ian Rude's problems are compounded by his mysterious powers, which begin to threaten destruction of enemies, friends and self. Mayhem and near-murder ensue and it's all a lot of laughs. I wish my adolescence had been this much fun. Most readers won't want the book to end and for a while there it seems as though it doesn't know how to, but finally contrives to get everyone off stage in a believable manner.

Laughs are harder to come by in Claire Carmichael's Fabricant (Random House, $14.95, 206pp). This is a darker world, first introduced in the author's Originator. For Adam, Callie, Faris and their plant geneticist mother Ilka, life has taken a savage turn. The immediate threat is posed by the escape of their father, one-time hero before being imprisoned for genetic crimes, murder and treason. His aim is to be President of this genetically manipulated society, where class divisions are all-encompassing and prejudice abounds. To this end, he has perfected a swift, deadly virus and the race is on to counter its potential power. Carmichael creates a wholly consistent and compelling world, but one where strong and meaningful relationships can and do exist. This reviewer is not generally a fan of the genre, yet finds Carmichael demands attention by her strong plotlines, interesting characters and ever-present humanity. Characters are strongly drawn and well differentiated, claiming our understanding and empathy.

Families are the focus of Jackie French's novel Missing you, love Sara (Angus and Robertson, 166pp). Sara's world is turned upside down when her sister disappears. Investigations take place on several fronts, officially with the police and visiting detectives and unofficially as the family pursue increasingly desperate enquiries with Reenie's boyfriend, friends and neighbours. The short chapters present the investigation from different viewpoints, giving a sense of a detective's reconstruction, while the interspersed “letters to Reenie” are a useful device for disclosing hidden emotional responses and a new inner strength. As the search goes on and further disappearances occur, Sara starts to discover just how many people are hurt by such an event, how everyone says and does the wrong thing and all of society suffers dislocation. She also learns that life goes on, as she finds she has developed a first boyfriend without really noticing. This is a down-to-earth treatment of an all too real theme; that the reader will not be downcast or depressed is a tribute to French's skill.

Middle adolescence is the territory of Jaclyn Moriarty's Feeling Sorry for Celia (Pan, $16.39, 256pp). The story is transmitted through a series of letters, certainly not a new narrative device, but well treated here. Different viewpoints are created via the exchange of letters chiefly between Elizabeth and her penfriend Christina; the girls don't meet until quite late in the story. Further communications come from her mother via notes on the fridge, her missing friend Celia and off-the-wall organisations glorying in titles such as The Young Romance Society, the Cold Hard Truth Association and the Always Think Twice Before You Do or Feel Anything At All Association. Throughout the course of the novel Elizabeth loses old friends and grows closer to a new one, learns of her attractions for a boy whom she can't even identify, uncovers a new family member and cultivates a new relationship with her strong and involved mother, who lives in unnecessary terror of neglecting her daughter.

Leonie Stevens aims for an older audience with 'Eat Well and Stay Out of Jail' (Penguin, $14.95, 198pp). When you've dropped out of school and want to get away from the boredom of stacking supermarket shelves in Melbourne, where else do you go but your aunt's place in a small town in Queensland? This is a novel for food-lovers and new lovers - spiced with a good dash of criminal behaviour, a journey of pursuit and self-discovery, and an eventual experience with violence and treachery.

To a non-fiction title that keeps the reader involved and admiring, Holding up the Sky (Magabala Books, 245pp). A collection of life stories and reflections of Aboriginal women, this book will engage young readers with its simple, direct style, clear layout, large print and authentic voices. Magabala Books, the Broome-based publishing company, has done much to present the Aboriginal experience to the reading public. As a teacher-librarian in secondary schools in the 1980s and beyond, this reviewer revelled in Magabala's well-presented, colourful volumes of children's stories and autobiographical works, amongst others. This book is timeless and timely, providing an interesting counterpoint to recent court cases and ongoing debate. The strong women whose stories are told here come from a variety of backgrounds and subsequent experiences, and tell their stories with not one jot of self-pity. They have met with and been affected by experiences and people good and bad. They speak of the influence of school, churches, the law and government policies. The style is always direct, often poignant, sometimes challenging. One story is told through the emotional immediacy of poetry. I found two stories the most compelling. Olive Morrison speaks with gentle power, particularly when she tells of her mother's death. Tazuko Kaino brings to her touching story the viewpoint of one born to an Aboriginal woman and one of the many Japanese pearl divers based around Broome. Her contribution, “A Very Special Family”, sums up her feeling that “I am blessed to know both Aboriginal and Japanese customs”.

Australian books for young people continue to provide variety, involvement, enjoyment and food for much thought and debate amongst readers and their families.

Margaret Steinberger is a former secondary school teacher-librarian who now works as a freelance writer and book editor. She is editor of the children's libraries and literature journal Orana.

Hecate's Australian Women's Book Review

ISSN 1033-9434		Editor: Barbara Brook Contributing Assistant Editor: Katie Hughes *Photomontage: Set in Stone, Adele Flood*
Volume 12, 2000

Books for Young Australians: 2000 Reviewed by Margaret Steinberger For this survey of recently published books for Australian youngsters and adolescents, I have chosen to focus on ten that have engaged my attention this year. There is no agenda for this choice, simply personal involvement. For younger readers, *Jane Godwin's The Family Tree* (Puffin, $14.18, 148pp) will be enjoyed by those who like stories with a clear narrative line and a well-defined ending. This gentle story deals with the trials and joys of becoming a member of a blended family in the context of discovering the requirements of adjustments in a wider society. Harry, her “stepbrother”, and schoolmates, join protests masterminded by friend Jemima to fight the merger of their friendly and caring small school. Along the way Harry learns to recognise and appreciate friends and family members for their different kinds of strengths. A lesson in accepting change of many types and moving on ultimately proves not too difficult to learn. Through her clearly defined characterisation and satisfying sense of story, Godwin gives the reader an enjoyable reading experience, while steering clear of easy feel-good solutions. The young adolescent will enjoy Sarah Walker's** Camphor Laurel (Macmillan, $14.20, 157pp), as it deals with friendship and early forays into thoughts of sexual relationships. Melissa and Juliette are inseparable friends, a subject of some amazement to Melissa, who is used to being on the fringes of groups. She bathes in the reflected glory of Juliette, who is going to be “a famous actress”. Together they discover the delights and perils of a nude beach and a predatory taxi driver. A school skiing trip signals the beginning of hurtful changes when the girls fall out, arising from Juliette's characteristically dazzling assurance at the sport and Melissa's ineptitude. A parentally enforced separation can't last; only a new friendship between Juliette and Ursula can drive a wedge between the inseparables. For Melissa, confusion and misery set in, to the point where she betrays Juliette, passing on false information that will set in train a worrying series of events. Through this Melissa discovers what the less starry-eyed Ursula has always understood about Juliette – her fears and weaknesses. Walker expertly conveys the world of adolescent friendship, with its special joys and threats. This reader gained great enjoyment from the author's insight into the quiet, introspective Melissa, so loving and vulnerable, yet with flashes of extrovert assurance. The story has many satisfying elements, not the least of which may be a sense of recognition and understanding for young readers with a similar personality makeup. *Gillian Rubinstein's The Mermaid of Bondi Beach* (Hodder, $10.95, 162pp)** presents a great blend of well-crafted story, delicious humour and well thought-out design. Non-readers will be initially attracted by Anna Pignataro's illustrations, the clean and uncluttered typeface and the generous use of white space. Then the story takes over, with its myriad twists and turns. There's a cast of fun characters, all of whom ring true … well, except perhaps the Mermaid, but she is an absolute delight, with a wicked sense of humour. Jack, and friends Mikey and Anna, team up in a series of adventures which somehow along the way solve the problems of a grandmother's lost jewellery and lost lover, a composer who desperately needs a great singer, a mermaid who lives to sing, a father who needs a partner and a brother who has become a small-time crook. The Mermaid has to rank as one of Rubinstein's greatest characters. For a rollicking read, you can't go past Rude Health (Macmillan, $12.01, 229pp) by Linda Aronson. It's a small, chunky book, befitting the small stature of the Rude family, and it fits easily in the hand – perfect for reading in the bath or for clandestine perusing under the desk at school. This riotous romp through the world of adolescence, school, gangs and family life has all the hallmarks of Aronson's stage work, with an emphasis on pace and dialogue. The author is particularly strong on conveying the special embarrassments of adolescence and parents. As if this were not enough, Ian Rude's problems are compounded by his mysterious powers, which begin to threaten destruction of enemies, friends and self. Mayhem and near-murder ensue and it's all a lot of laughs. I wish my adolescence had been this much fun. Most readers won't want the book to end and for a while there it seems as though it doesn't know how to, but finally contrives to get everyone off stage in a believable manner. Laughs are harder to come by in *Claire Carmichael's Fabricant* (Random House, $14.95, 206pp*). This is a darker world, first introduced in the author's Originator. For Adam, Callie, Faris and their plant geneticist mother Ilka, life has taken a savage turn. The immediate threat is posed by the escape of their father, one-time hero before being imprisoned for genetic crimes, murder and treason. His aim is to be President of this genetically manipulated society, where class divisions are all-encompassing and prejudice abounds. To this end, he has perfected a swift, deadly virus and the race is on to counter its potential power. Carmichael creates a wholly consistent and compelling world, but one where strong and meaningful relationships can and do exist. This reviewer is not generally a fan of the genre, yet finds Carmichael demands attention by her strong plotlines, interesting characters and ever-present humanity. Characters are strongly drawn and well differentiated, claiming our understanding and empathy. Families are the focus of Jackie French's* novel Missing you, love Sara (Angus and Robertson, 166pp). Sara's world is turned upside down when her sister disappears. Investigations take place on several fronts, officially with the police and visiting detectives and unofficially as the family pursue increasingly desperate enquiries with Reenie's boyfriend, friends and neighbours. The short chapters present the investigation from different viewpoints, giving a sense of a detective's reconstruction, while the interspersed “letters to Reenie” are a useful device for disclosing hidden emotional responses and a new inner strength. As the search goes on and further disappearances occur, Sara starts to discover just how many people are hurt by such an event, how everyone says and does the wrong thing and all of society suffers dislocation. She also learns that life goes on, as she finds she has developed a first boyfriend without really noticing. This is a down-to-earth treatment of an all too real theme; that the reader will not be downcast or depressed is a tribute to French's skill. Middle adolescence is the territory of *Jaclyn Moriarty's Feeling Sorry for Celia* (Pan, $16.39, 256pp). The story is transmitted through a series of letters, certainly not a new narrative device, but well treated here. Different viewpoints are created via the exchange of letters chiefly between Elizabeth and her penfriend Christina; the girls don't meet until quite late in the story. Further communications come from her mother via notes on the fridge, her missing friend Celia and off-the-wall organisations glorying in titles such as The Young Romance Society, the Cold Hard Truth Association and the Always Think Twice Before You Do or Feel Anything At All Association. Throughout the course of the novel Elizabeth loses old friends and grows closer to a new one, learns of her attractions for a boy whom she can't even identify, uncovers a new family member and cultivates a new relationship with her strong and involved mother, who lives in unnecessary terror of neglecting her daughter. Leonie Stevens** aims for an older audience with 'Eat Well and Stay Out of Jail' (Penguin, $14.95, 198pp). When you've dropped out of school and want to get away from the boredom of stacking supermarket shelves in Melbourne, where else do you go but your aunt's place in a small town in Queensland? This is a novel for food-lovers and new lovers - spiced with a good dash of criminal behaviour, a journey of pursuit and self-discovery, and an eventual experience with violence and treachery. To a non-fiction title that keeps the reader involved and admiring, Holding up the Sky (Magabala Books, 245pp). A collection of life stories and reflections of Aboriginal women, this book will engage young readers with its simple, direct style, clear layout, large print and authentic voices. Magabala Books, the Broome-based publishing company, has done much to present the Aboriginal experience to the reading public. As a teacher-librarian in secondary schools in the 1980s and beyond, this reviewer revelled in Magabala's well-presented, colourful volumes of children's stories and autobiographical works, amongst others. This book is timeless and timely, providing an interesting counterpoint to recent court cases and ongoing debate. The strong women whose stories are told here come from a variety of backgrounds and subsequent experiences, and tell their stories with not one jot of self-pity. They have met with and been affected by experiences and people good and bad. They speak of the influence of school, churches, the law and government policies. The style is always direct, often poignant, sometimes challenging. One story is told through the emotional immediacy of poetry. I found two stories the most compelling. Olive Morrison speaks with gentle power, particularly when she tells of her mother's death. Tazuko Kaino brings to her touching story the viewpoint of one born to an Aboriginal woman and one of the many Japanese pearl divers based around Broome. Her contribution, “A Very Special Family”, sums up her feeling that “I am blessed to know both Aboriginal and Japanese customs”. Australian books for young people continue to provide variety, involvement, enjoyment and food for much thought and debate amongst readers and their families. Margaret Steinberger is a former secondary school teacher-librarian who now works as a freelance writer and book editor. She is editor of the children's libraries and literature journal Orana.