I bought this one in Tasmania (Hobart). I wanted something by a Tasmanian author and I had previously read The Labrinth, so I was familiar with her work.
Here’s the blurb …
After too many nights of takeaway pizzas, Marita wants just one year off to look after her daughter, Camille. then she meets Stephen, a public servant in the complex process of reinventing himself, training as a shiatsu masseur. As their relationship grows, so does the drama of parenting Camille, in this elegantly crafted, warmly appealing novel of contemporary Australian life.
This was a very thoughtful book about relationships; with one’s self, with a romantic partner, parenting, step-parenting, and friendship. It is also about compromise or the lack of compromise.
Stephen is very rigid in his views of the best way to live. He is trying to find ‘poise’ and he thinks it is to do with the body and the body’s energy – how you feed it and how you treat it. He thinks words are the enemy. Marita, on the other hand, is all about words. She has a personal project where she records people talking (telling stories etc.) and then she listens to them and tries to rework them into some kind of prose. Stephen finds Camille’s love of trashy white bread horrifying (all that dead white flour) and is always trying to improve their (Marita and Camille) diet.
Here’s a quote that sums it up for me
In bed that night, Stephen ponders the question of cake. It’s that nurturing hysteria again. Eve took the apple from the Serpent and she’s been making up for it ever since by feeding everyone cake. But when we bake flour it becomes oxidised and oxidation is the Ling process, the beginning of death … of rust, and breaking down. Once again this is a strong materialist position, of the kind Sanjay had warned him against. Of late, he has modified his thinking on this and is inclined to argue now that it’s not the cake as such but what goes into it, the quality of the energy, which includes not only the character of the ingredients but the energy of the cook as well. Marita believes it to be the other way around – what is important is not the reality but the idea.
It’s beautifully written with a visceral sense of place. The minor characters are fabulous and add heft to the story.
A review