Dirt Music (Winton)

Winton has such an eye for the land. He brings this remote area to life and presents the inner and outer turmoils of his three main characters. Yes, Luther or Lu and Georgie take center stage, but I include Jim in the group because he has his own arc and motivations. In the end, he might be the most complex character among them.

Sometimes, the language and local customs eluded me at first, but I stayed patient and could figure out enough to understand what was happening.

I Googled “dirt music” to find some artists that represented it and learned that there is a movie based on this book. I wish I hadn’t seem the images. The characters look younger than I pictured them, and it seems like the story was reduced to that of a romance. I’m not going to watch it.

True History of the Kelly Gang (Carey)

I don’t know anything about the Kelly Gang, if such a thing really existed, etc., so I wasn’t worried about corrupting my sense of Australian history. But if Ned Kelly really did exist, Peter Carey has done him a good turn by allowing him to speak for himself and account to his daughter about how his life turned out and, more importantly, why. Carey finds the humanity in the man who, at least within the confines of the book, becomes a legend. And by staying specific, Carey allows us to sympathize with him and gain a broader understanding of the world that created him.

The Renunciations (Kelly)

I could not and will not stop reading Donika Kelly’s Anisfield-Wolf award-winning collection, The Renunciations. My first impression was that it was brave in at least two ways. First, she writes about what seem to be her own experiences with being sexually abused by her father. I also found her work brave because she is willing to reach for large and fundamental elements. This is the conclusion to her first poem, “House of Air, Hours of Fire”:

I know I am palimpest.

I house the air, the earth, and flame-though nearly anything

can be overwritten, and what can be left behind

is no more or no less a matter of will.

The first “Dear-” poem also features the earth, flame, the air, and water — life reduced to its foundations.

What’s equally amazing is that admidst the quiet devastation of her accounts of trauma, Kelly can also turn the power of her precise language to love. She is never shouting at us. She just places the words out there for us to find, and they conjure such assertive beauty. From the ending of “Bedtime Story for the Bruised-Hearted” –

Tonight, my love, we are free

of men, of gods, and I am a river

against you, drawn to current and eddy,

ready to make, to be unmade.

I find that sequence, especially the last line, absolutely breathtaking.

This is a remarkable collection.

The Renunciations

https://www.donikakelly.com/

The Trees (Everett)

This Anisfield-Wolf award-winning novel grabs you from the very first page. Everett’s sharp-tongued satire comes so fast and furious that you will be grateful for the short chapters. Otherwise, you might forget to breathe.

It’s hard to write about this one without spoiling things, but something strange is happening in Money, Mississippi. People are being killed, which I guess is not so strikingly unusual, but it’s the method of the killings and the situation at the scene of the crime that mystfies the local police. Outside help comes in the form of two detectives from the Misissippi Beaureau of Investigation. The pair have an awesome rapport. The dialogue Everett gives them is a master class in less is more. Other outsiders descend on Money as the questions multiply.

Everett has created numerous memorable set pieces here. Mama Z’s files are but one striking example. He also knows when a moment is too serious to be satirized and allows two different sets of pages to be filled with lists. Read them. In certain ways, they are at the heart of the book.

I was disappointed in the ending a bit. When Everett takes us into the White House of the person who occupied it from 2016-2020, it almost feels too easy. I mean, how do you satirize someone whose existence, let alone job performance, is a gross caricature on ordinary days? It’s redundant.

Read this one, please. There are things said here that should be known and not forgotten. There is a kind of summons in the ending, a kind of warning. We need to hear the call.

The Trees

The Reef: A Passionate History – The Great Barrier Reef from Captain Cook to Climate Change (McCalman)

This was not quite what I wanted it to be. I’d like to understand, in layman’s terms, what the Great Barrier Reef is. This is, instead, a collection of mini-biographies of people whose stories led them to interact in some way or the other with the Great Barrier Reef. When McCalman does present some of the science of the sitatuon, it is by no means written for the layman – or at least not this particular layman.

Some of the biographies are more engaging than others. Still, the chronological arrangements of these largely distinct pieces made it difficult to generate much momentum as I read. There was no real line through – no real plot, as it were. There are some overlapping sections that deal with the emergence of ecology as a science, and the more recent chapters on Climate Change are compelling. I think the book needed more than the existence of the Reef to pull it together.

The Secret River (Grenville)

This is an utterly captivating piece of historical fiction. A family struggles in London. The husband is arrested for theft. Rather than being hung, he is sent to Australia under the supervision of his wife. She wants to stay at their initial location and dreams of a return to London. He slowly understands that he can’t return and becomes captivated by the prospect of owning a piece of land away from the slowly developing cities on the coast. The problem is not that the land is already owned, but that there is an Aboriginal population that seems to be increasingly and rightfully wary of the white man’s encroachments. The plot is a slow boil and an explosive climax. The resolution is haunting because of what’s left unsaid. . . and unseen.

Life Studies & For the Union Dead (Lowell)

It’s a challenge to write this reveiw since I recently read a sort of biography of Lowell. Am I understanding these poems based on biography or the poetry – or some (an appropriate) mix of the two?

There seemed to be a motif of lost time here, a regret, perhaps, over the periods of time Lowell lost to his fits of madness.

The poetry also seemed kind of anachronistic, like if I knew nothing of the author’s background (and absent a few modern allusions), I probably would have placed him in the previous century.

This was interesting to read after the biography, but probably would not have been appealing as an independent read.

Tall Man: The Death of Doomadgee (Hooper)

An Aboriginal man, having been arrested for swearing at the police, dies in police custody. A process that is supposed to last three weeks last for three years. You know the ending. Even though I knew the ending, I couldn’t help clinging to a shred of hope, the occasional glimmer of possibility. But as with similar situations in the United States, this case and this book are about more than its specific details. There are massive, systemic problems in the society (including the judicial system) that no well-intentioned lawyers can cure even if they had won this particular case.

Hooper is an excellent guide. She does not try to pretend to be an absent witness or even a neutral one. She becomes emotionally involved and acknowledges it. Her presentation of her research is excellent. The substance and length of her digressions are spot on. They serve our understanding of the trial, the driving narrative force of this book.

Haunting, sadly familiar and essential – strongly recommended.

Affirming Black Students’ Lives & Literacies: Bearing Witness (Willis, McMillion, Smith)

One of my favorite reactions to have to a book is to think: “I haven’t read anything like this!” And I had that reaction throughout this innovative and inspirational text. As a white male teacher who has spent most of my (almost) 30-year career teaching high school English to students who don’t look like me, I have constantly wrestled with some of the questions and issues raised here. The only reason I haven’t wrestled with the others is because I had never considered them before. There is so much in here for me to think about and act on in terms of my literacy practices in the classroom that even on this grey April day, I find myself incredibly re-energized.

The writing here is great – clear and passionate. I love the structure of the book, especially the “In Conversation” sections, the critical discussion questions, and the suggested readings.

I admit that I hesitated a bit when I initially saw that some of the narratives were about younger children, and I thought I might skim those sections, but the narratives and responses are incredibly rich. I winced in recognition on more than a few occasions. Mostly, though, I wanted to join the conversation – or at least listen in.

I don’t know if the three authors plan to write together in the future, but I will certainly be following their individual work.

Get it here –

https://www.tcpress.com/affirming-black-students%E2%80%99-lives-and-literacies-9780807766989

Race Matters (West)

I’ve certainly heard a lot about him and have seen interviews and talks, etc,. I thought I’d read what I perceive to be one of his classics. I found it interesting, if maybe a little generic. I felt like I walked into the middle of a conversation, though West is (in my mind) surprisingly reluctant to identify the other participants. I know he’s got a reputation for being contentious, but I didn’t find much to argue with here. I found it very much worth reading and it left me with a desire to hear more from him.