The October-November Nutshell
Judith Rossell, exploitation v. representation, and bluer skies
Dear Reader,
I managed to squeeze a garden variety cold and a dispiriting bout of Covid into October. The cold was easily mended with hot toddies, a re-read of The Wedding Forecast by Nina Kenwood, and a jar of VapoRub with an expiry date of April 2012. But Covid was dreadful — I was weak as a kitten, and if you’ve ever seen a kitten try to lift a trade paperback you’ll understand why reading wasn’t on the cards. Feverish and with no sense of smell and taste, I couldn’t manage anything more robust than All Creatures Great and Small on Britbox. But I’ve been making up for it and here are some reading highlights:
Quick thoughts on each: if you loved Anne Michaels’ Fugitive Pieces back in the 90s, as I did, you must read Held — it is gets-into-your-bones good, a profound experience. There was the usual flurry of glib critiques about Sally Rooney by readers who opened a page at random and picked on a single paragraph, but I’ve enjoyed all of her novels and Intermezzo was no exception — the intimacy she builds with her main characters is exceptional. Our Evenings by Alan Hollinghurst is a masterfully crafted, substantial novel that spans the 60s to the present day in Britain through the eyes of a gay man. I felt restless with it towards the end in the same way as I did with Ian McEwan’s life-spanning Lessons, but it remained well worth the journey. Liane Moriarty’s Here One Moment is as entertaining and smart as her whole back catalogue — it’s not Big Little Lies but bears a resemblance to her more eccentric novels.
Midwatch by Judith Rossell
This is an exquisite children’s novel, a swoon-worthy hardback, lavishly illustrated.
Judith Rossell is the whole package for kidlit — a storytelling artist — and the production of Midwatch is a glowing example of what happens when publisher meets creator with the highest investment. Taking us into the Midwatch Institute for Orphans, Runaways and Unwanted Girls via latest arrival Maggie Fishbone, the narrative voice is reassuringly elegant from the first word but I also loved moments of humour in the language, such as when Sister Immaculata is described as “lumpy and bony, as if she were made out of potatoes and cutlery”.
The author has nailed nun-critique as far as this ex-convent girl is concerned: the weekly sewing lessons I endured came rushing back at this insult: “The shirt she was supposed to be hemming was so crumpled and grimy and damp that Sister Penitencia said it looked like it had been torn off a drowning man.”
Though Midwatch is derived from well-known story tropes about children being sent to institutions, it is full of surprises: a girl-loving, girl-celebrating version of those older books. Everyone is special in some way, though it’s more story- than character-led, with plenty of action as the girls track down a villain, as well as entertaining detail about the institution. Things traditionally used to demean or dismiss girls turn out to be clever devices that they use to extract themselves from danger — a simple doll, for instance, turns out to be a whole toolkit. It’s a beautiful book filled with illustrations that readers will get lost in for days.
As a bookseller ten years ago I recall begging for more illustrations in middle-grade fiction, so I’m delighted by the recent flurry of author-illustrators on Australian shelves alongside Midwatch, from full-page classical art to cartoons and small details, including: Anna Zobel’s This Camp is Doomed, Lucinda Gifford’s The Wolves of Greycoat Hall, Sophie Beer’s Thunderhead, and Katherine Collette’s The Too-Tall Tales of Alma T. Best.
Is the grass greener where the sky is blue?
I’ve enjoyed several interesting conversations about the publishing industry on Threads in recent weeks, including a few days on “boy books”, a full autopsy on Jamie Oliver’s children’s book, aka the book that has Jamie Oliver’s name on it, and a pelting of four guys called Spines who plan on “disrupting” the publishing industry with a dazzling combination of taking writers’ money and using AI to speed through the editorial process. Landfill ahoy.
Threads is also where I heard about the heavily criticised Vanity Fair piece about Augusta Britt, who was Cormac McCarthy’s muse from the age of 17 (when he was 42), and it’s where I came across this study of book-buying trends and reading habits.
Then came a burst of posts this month proclaiming BlueSky to be the Chosen One. After the initial flood of new followings, will it become the place to be for book industry folk? I just want somewhere where I can start a conversation about books and trust that I won’t be talking to myself for very long. (Related: you are always welcome to leave a comment on this newsletter.)
On Voracious in October & November
The dominant theme in my posts for paid subscribers in October and November was exploitation v. representation.
The theme began when I watched the movie Can You Ever Forgive Me? (2018) starring Melissa McCarthy as the real-life Lee Israel, a biographer down on her luck who resorts to crime as a side-hustle. Back in the 90s, Israel created a scam whereby she forged and sold letters by deceased celebrities. Being a biographer, she was very good at the research required to pull off such a crime, but was eventually caught by the FBI.
That was one of the movies I discussed in my October post 5 Recommended Movies About Writers, and on a listicle roll I followed that with 5 Recommended Podcasts For Book Lovers.
This month I’ve written about the unpopular tale, Jamie Oliver and His Epic Mistake, in a piece called Slop and Slip, and discussed children as internet influencer muses alongside the disturbing Cormac McCarthy story in Content.
My paid subscriptions aren’t available at the moment but if you have a ‘free post’ to use, perhaps one of those will interest you.
Alternatively, here’s a cautionary tale from the archives for new writers: 5 Mistakes I’ve Made As A Writer: #1 (I Subbed Before I Was Ready).
Some Recommendations To Finish
I loved this podcast episode on the BBCs In Our Time in which three expert guests discuss Little Women by Louisa May Alcott with Melvyn Bragg for a solid 45 minutes. It made me seek out my old copy and add it to the To Be Read Again pile.
On This Cultural Life there’s a fabulous interview with Margaret Drabble, author of 18 novels and sister of the late A.S. Byatt — the interview delves into their famous rivalry.
The podcast series about children’s literature by Katherine Rundell — The Lion, The Witch and the Wonder — is a must for . . . I was about to default to “anyone in children’s publishing”, but we are not the only ones who need to hear about “the power and politics of children’s fiction” — it’s a must for anyone in books.
I remember my dad’s stack of Frederick Forsyth novels when I was little — forgive me, Dad, for skipping the book and going straight to the TV series but I am addicted to The Day of the Jackal, currently on Binge, Foxtel, or Now TV depending on where you are. Here’s the trailer.
I’m not sure I really need this book but let’s say I wouldn’t object to finding it in my Christmas stocking — I enjoyed this review of Sylvia Plath’s Tomato Soup Cake: A Compendium of Classic Authors’ Favourite Recipes. It features Daphne Du Maurier’s sloe gin, George Orwell’s plum cake, and Agatha Christie’s hot bean salad. But not, I’m afraid, Emily Gale’s Roast . . .
Thank you for reading Voracious.
So long, November . . . (not sure I’m quite ready for you, December.) X