Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #441598 in Books
• Published on: 2007-01
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 376 pages

Customer Reviews

A gripping tale full of complexity
This book is marvelously complex. On the surface it is a murder mystery, and a tale of personal obsession. Going deeper it is an examination of native land rights issues in Australia. On an even more abstract level it is an examination of the general human obsession with land, our desire to possess it and our willingness to commit violence in order to do so as well as the inequities and conflicts that land ownership creates between individuals, groups and whole races. The conflicting beliefs and values tied up with these issues are made tangible for the reader through the development of individual characters, while the background story of the enactment of parliamentary legislation relating to native land rights helps us see the bigger picture.

The story itself is gripping and becomes more and more so as the novel progresses. McGahan's poetic command of the English language makes the novel a delight to read. The reader truly gets caught up in the development of the story at all levels and the final resolution does not disappoint.

Land, fire and water
In Australia, "the Bush" is something more than just wild places - it's anyplace outside the city. It's also an attitude - and from attitude comes politics and law. The law, in this case, is over the question of the Native Title Act. Nearly two centuries ago, the British government declared Australia "terra nullius" - uninhabited by human beings. Over the years, white settlers displaced and murdered the "non-existent" Aborigine people, occupying vast leases of "undeveloped" land. The 20th Century brought a new sense of justice and new legislation to help restore Aborigine access to their sacred places. Whites, fearing displacement of their own, formed resistance groups to fight the new law. This book summarises all that extensive and complex history through two lives - John McIvor and his nephew William.

McGahan provides a gripping story, ranging over several generations. It's not always a pretty story. In fact, much of this book is set in the grim environment of the battling squatter. John McIvor has struggled for years to own and occupy the vast holdings of Kuran Station. There's no small irony in the station being named for an Aborigine tribe. Those former occupants are long gone, however, and McIvor's new enemies are drought, bushfires, Native Title, and his own daughter. Fire brings his nephew William into his life at a critical time. William's father has succumbed to a blaze and John takes in William and his mother. It's not simple charity or even family ties underlying this move. John McIvor has long-reaching plans for William. He wants to introduce the boy to the land and its responsibilities. The selection, like most such holdings, is vast and the task of working them is immense

Although but nine years old, William has wisdom beyond his years. He comprehends the struggle for survival in an unforgiving environment. The sense of belonging to the land is growing within him, fostered by the elderly John. There are tours of the selection, lessons in the history of the dilapidated House, finding secret places that John holds dear and desires to keep his exclusively. William, although confused and nearly overwhelmed by the force of John's personality and mysterious lifestyle, struggles to understand. It's no easy task for one his age. Eventually, the mysteries are revealed and William, still but a child and sickly from a mysterious illness, must make a choice that will determine the remainder of his life.

McGahan's story may be mildly contrived to embrace the context of vast stretches of time and space. There's the need to convey the issues involved and why those are important to the characters. Occupying the land, obtaining water for stock and crops, and combatting the pervasive bushfires are the underlying and constant themes. The author's portrayals of John McIvor and William are excellent, although it's problematic just how astute a nine-year-old would be in the complexity of events he must confront. Having lost a father, John, as bizarre and enigmatic as he seems, acts as a replacement for William. The story is hardly simple, but McGahan's relation keeps you well-placed to understand events. It's a gripping read, enhanced by historical validity and unresolved contemporary issues. [stephen a. haines - Ottawa, Canada]

"Did you ever see the terrible bunyip?"
Set on the plains of Queensland, Australia, this award-winning novel defies genre. It is, on various levels, the epic struggle of white farmers to tame a land which has a life of its own, an historical record of the genocide of the native aborigine population, a murder mystery, and the Gothic study of a man who lets his obsession with a particular piece of land control his life. But it is also the coming of age story of a young boy who may one day represent a fresh new spirit--one of respect for the earth, its history, and all the people who have walked it.

William is an eight-year-old when the novel opens in 1992. Upon the death of his father in an explosion and fire on the family farm, William and his mother move to Kuran Station, a remote area west of Brisbane, where William's great-uncle John McIvor owns a huge farm. The farm's once-grand manse is now a decrepit, falling-down ruin, where John McIvor, having alienated his entire family, lives alone, except for a disagreeable housekeeper. McIvor, wanting to see if William might be a suitable heir, orders William to explore the land, feel its spirit, and understand its soul. In various episodes, William finds sacred places and sees visions--of a man on fire, an axe murder, a long-dead explorer, and the mythical bunyip.

William's story alternates with that of John McIvor as a young man in the late 1920s. His father, Daniel, "a hard man," was long-time manager of the Kuran Station farm, even participating in the resettlement of the aborigines, but when the Depression hits, Daniel is fired and the family is banished. John vows that someday he will become the owner of the Kuran Station, and he subordinates every aspect of his life to achieving that goal. As the novel develops, it becomes a microcosm of Australia's history of land ownership. The national government is proposing a Native Title Act, which would provide access to ancestral lands for the remaining aboriginal population. John McIvor and his friends are opposed.

On every level, the novel is a page-turner, filled with energy and excitement and containing all the elements of a Gothic melodrama. But the novel is also a bit frustrating. Several main characters are shown largely in terms of the obsessions which grip them, and this makes them unlikable and less than sympathetic for the reader. The extended explanation of Native Title legislation sometimes bogs down the narrative in legalistic details, and the descriptions of the land, gorgeous at the beginning of the novel, soon become purple prose, especially noticeable when William, seriously ill, gets lost on the plains.

Winner of Australia's Miles Franklin Prize for Best Novel of 2004, this novel attempts to do it all, and it succeeds on many levels. Those who become involved in the story of William (and I was one) may become so caught up in the excitement that they will hardly care about the areas in which it may be less successful--a terrific read for summer which offers more than mere entertainment. Mary Whipple