Historical novels by Australian women writers for #AWW2016, and on to 2017

I'm wrapping up my second year of participation in the Australian Women Writers Challenge.  Now that I'm part of the associated Facebook group, I'm seeing the impressive reading accomplishments of the other participants, which far surpass mine, but I'm pleased to have met my 2016 goal of six books read, four reviewed.  I reviewed all six, which are as follows:

The Wife's Tale by Christine Wells, a dual-time romance/mystery set in modern and Georgian England.

The Memory Stones by Caroline Brothers, literary fiction about what happens to an Argentine family during the country's Dirty War.

Call to Juno by Elisabeth Storrs, the final book in her trilogy set in ancient Rome and Etruria.

The Railwayman's Wife by Ashley Hay, a literary novel about the aftermath of loss, set in the Australian seaside town of Thirroul beginning in 1948.

Daughter of Albion by Ilka Tampke, a gritty historical fantasy set in first-century England.  In the UK and Australia, the title is Skin.

And the final review was for a book-length literary study on the historical fiction genre by Gillian Polack, History and Fiction: Writers, Their Research, Worlds, and Stories, which I reviewed for the nonfiction section of November's Historical Novels Review.

Thinking about it, I'm realizing I actually read seven that fit.  The one which I didn't review (because I read it on vacation) was Barbara Hannay's The Secret Years, which uses the popular multi-era format to tell the story of a north Queensland family from WWII to the present.  It used to be on sale for Kindle in the US but isn't any longer.

I've also signed up again for 2017; I have plenty of books by Australian women writers waiting on my physical and virtual shelves to be read.  I'm especially eager to get my hands on Lucy Treloar's Salt Creek, which finally came back in stock at Fishpond.  With everything I'm assigned to read by various publications, I'm not sure if I can make it past my 2016 goal, but we'll see.

Scandal, Georgian-style: The Wife's Tale by Christine Wells

This is a dual-narrative novel with a difference. In one section, a modern-day woman becomes intrigued by centuries-old secrets about an elegant country home and its former mistress, a mysterious dark-haired lady in red. The historical thread centers on that lady’s troubled marriage in Georgian England, which conjures up images of decadent aristocrats and scandalous affairs. Wells, a debut novelist, takes a fresh approach to both story lines, intertwining them in surprising and satisfying ways.

Liz Jones is a fabulous character. A career-driven corporate lawyer from Brisbane, she’s outgoing, funny, and occasionally blunt, but it’s for the right reasons. When her boss asks her to travel to the Isle of Wight and investigate the history of Seagrove, a stately home once owned by his ancestor, she resists – a beach vacation with her husband awaits.

But her marriage is shaky, and their joint holiday doesn’t happen, so soon Liz finds herself abroad, renting Seagrove’s guest cottage. Here she gets entangled with the Nash family, including guarded, down-to-earth Theo, while pretending to be researching Delany, his notorious ancestress. Wells’ background as an attorney adds depth: in 1789, Delany’s husband, an earlier Lord Nash, goes to court against his brother Julian, a “radical rogue and reckless libertine,” for supposedly having seduced his beautiful wife.

There’s more to the story, of course. What stands out is how real the situations feel, and how skillfully Wells avoids stereotypes. Delany makes a grand entrance into the courtroom and novel, complete with ostrich-plumed hat and confidence to spare, but her version of her alleged adultery (as her journal reveals) takes unexpected twists. Liz’s story also has significant heft, especially when her deception begins to clash with her closeness to the Nashes, Theo in particular. Even the villainous characters are drawn with nuance. Full of great dialogue, romance, and a breathtaking coastal landscape, this engrossing novel deserves a wide audience.

The Wife's Tale was published by Penguin Australia in 2016 (trade pb, A$32.99, 439pp).  I bought my own copy from Fishpond after seeing positive reviews of it elsewhere.  This review first appeared in November's Historical Novels Review.  I hope the book will find a US publisher.

This is my 5th post for the 2016 Australian Women Writers Challenge.

A country's trauma made personal: The Memory Stones by Caroline Brothers

Los desaparecidos, the disappeared. That is the name given to those abducted by the military junta that took control of Argentina during the country’s Dirty War, an event that Australian writer Brothers’ (Hinterland, 2012) second novel renders devastatingly personal.

In 1976, Osvaldo Ferrero, an eye surgeon, must flee Buenos Aires for Paris for his own safety. His younger daughter, Graciela, a carefree, 19-year-old student, goes into hiding; she and her fiancé simply vanish from sight. Then news emerges that Graciela was pregnant.

The story honors the heroism of the mothers and grandmothers of the missing via the experiences of Yolanda, Osvaldo’s wife, who forms alliances with other women in her situation. The first half is tense and dramatic, yet the story becomes truly remarkable later on.

As decades pass, the family, scattered around the globe, continues searching for Graciela and her child while slowly reshaping their lives around their terrible losses. Evocative scenes at a Greek archaeological site emphasize the challenge of uncovering the past, whether it be more than two millennia ago or just two decades earlier.

The Memory Stones will be published in October by Bloomsbury in hardcover ($28, 480pp).  In the UK, it was published back in July by Bloomsbury Circus.  I wrote this review for Booklist's September 1st issue, and it's also my 4th post for the 2016 Australian Women Writers Challenge; I've met my goal to achieve the Miles level!  (I've read two other books and will post those reviews once they appear.)

Because this novel takes place between the '70s and '90s, it'll be categorized with General Fiction in the AWW review database.  What do you think; how far in the past should a novel be set before it's "historical"?

I remember reading this article in the Guardian two years ago so was familiar with the story of the "disappeared," and Brothers' novel brings readers right into this troubled time and the long aftermath.

Elisabeth Storrs' Call to Juno, last in a trilogy set in ancient Rome and Etruria

In Elisabeth Storrs’ Call to Juno, set during the closing years of the wars between Rome and Etruscan Veii in the 4th century BC, the gods play important roles, influencing people’s behavior and thoughts, even though the deities never take form on the page.

On the day he’s crowned as lucumo (king) of Veii, Vel Mastarna paints his face with vermilion dye to honor Tinia, the Etruscans’ principal god. His wife, Queen Caecilia, who was born of the Roman aristocracy, knows that she’s defied the Roman goddess Fortuna after choosing her husband and his city over her homeland – and she fears retribution. And Artile, Vel’s estranged brother, may be considered a traitor for aiding the Roman cause, but there’s no denying that his talents as priest and haruspex are uncannily perceptive.

The history and culture of these ancient peoples are presented in exquisite detail, from the finer aspects of religious belief to politics, art, and the mechanisms of warfare. They serve to anchor the narrative in its time without overwhelming readers. Although the settings may be foreign to modern readers, the characters exhibit traits and emotions recognizable to us all.

I’d previously reviewed the earlier volumes of the Tale of Ancient Rome series for this site. The first, The Wedding Shroud, saw Caecilia married off to Vel as a treaty-bride, and the second, The Golden Dice, depicts her plight in Veii after the truce between their lands, which sit a mere 12 miles apart across the Tiber, finally broke down. As Call to Juno opens, Caecilia, now a firm enemy of Rome, is watched with suspicion by the Veientanes, at least until she takes a public stance that startles her husband and puts him in a tough position.

As Vel leaves on campaign, Caecilia, her four children, and their servants stay behind in the citadel of Veii, which sits atop a high cliff. They and others endure plague and starvation during Rome’s siege of their city, which makes for uncomfortable reading at times.

The overall tale is revealed from four perspectives. On the Etruscan side, we have Caecilia and Semni, her children’s wet nurse, who’s in love with a Phoenician slave with a dangerous responsibility. On the Roman side, the protagonists are Pinna, a former tomb whore, now concubine of General Camillus; and Marcus, a Roman tribune and Caecilia’s estranged cousin, whose unspoken love for his best friend, Drusus, is a constant torment.

The two cities are set up in contrast. The restrictive mores of Rome are vastly different than those of wealthy Veii, with its rich material culture and decadent rites meant to honor the wine god, Fufluns. I particularly liked the scenes in which members of the Roman contingent express curiosity about the Rasenna – as the Veientane people call themselves – before they clash in their final encounter. When Pinna hears that their enemy honors their ancestors and reveres women, she starts questioning everything she’s been taught about them.

Although the author can’t change history, the plot refrains from obvious twists along the way, and the characters’ struggles are valiant as they try their utmost to control their fates.

Call to Juno was published by Amazon's Lake Union imprint in April. As I was writing up the review, I caught a social media mention that all three books in the series are $1.99 apiece as ebooks during August. This is my 3rd post for the 2016 Australian Women Writers Challenge.

The aftermath of loss: Ashley Hay's The Railwayman's Wife

Ashley Hay’s The Railwayman’s Wife is a novel tailor-made for librarians and book lovers (like me) who enjoy literary fiction. Set in the Australian seaside town of Thirroul beginning in 1948, it navigates the emotional changes in a young woman, Anikka Lachlan, over the course of her first year as a widow.

UK & Australian cover

After her Scottish-born husband, Mac, dies in a railway accident, it’s suggested that Ani replace the librarian in Thirroul’s Railway Institute Library after her retirement. Ani has always loved to read – Jane Eyre is her favorite novel – and although her new work schedule disrupts her routine with her 10-year-old daughter, Isabel, she finds comfort in helping her fellow townspeople find the right books.

During this painful time, she develops friendships with some of her neighbors, including Roy McKinnon, who fears that his gift for poetry deserted him in peacetime, and Frank Draper, a doctor who can’t escape his past failure to prevent the deaths of recently liberated concentration camp victims. Ani is taken aback by Frank’s occasional brusqueness but comes to realize where it comes from.

This is a bittersweet, introspective novel that follows people’s search for hope and understanding even in the most trying circumstances. It evokes Ani’s feelings not only of loss also but of frustration at life’s unfairness, since she and Mac had come through years of war unscathed only for him to die tragically young anyway. It’s also understandably strange for her to spend her days surrounded by the sound of trains, one of which killed her husband.

US cover

Ani holds onto her memories of Mac, reflecting on the fact that they’ll have no more conversations with one another: “It still throws her to realize she’ll learn nothing more directly from her husband, only secondhand anecdotes about him. And such things can never be hers to claim.” Through others’ stories, Ani discovers a side to Mac she probably wouldn’t have ever known otherwise.

Chapters about their married life, but seen from Mac’s viewpoint, add to the story’s poignancy and originality. Through these sections – which feel shocking when first encountered, because one doesn’t expect to reach the minds of the dead – we learn how much Mac strived to make himself feel worthy of her.

The Railwayman’s Wife is too deep and multilayered of a book to offer simple answers, but eloquently describes how people seek their own paths out of bereavement and loss.

This was a personal purchase; I’d bought the UK edition (Allen & Unwin, 2014) back when it came out, before I heard that a US edition would be published (Atria/Simon & Schuster, April 2016, $26). This is my second entry in the 2016 Australian Women Writers Challenge.

For background on the story, see Ashley Hay's essay in Library Journal: Reading the Rails: How Australia's Historic Railway Libraries Inspired a Novel.

Book review: Daughter of Albion, by Ilka Tampke

North American cover
(Thomas Dunne/St. Martin's)

Australian writer Ilka Tampke’s magical debut, Daughter of Albion, has classic genre elements in its blood. It offers the Celtic-tinged feminism of Marion Zimmer Bradley’s The Mists of Avalon, a dark, earthy style reminiscent of Morgan Llywelyn’s The Horse Goddess, and themes of heroic fantasy transposed into a gritty Iron Age England. While some aspects were familiar to me, particularly the growth of its young heroine into a potential leader of her people, its uniqueness lies in the kinship and belief system used by the author – and how these diverse parts form into a coherent whole.

Ailia is a young woman without “skin,” or totem. Her family is unknown; she was discovered as a swaddled newborn on the doorstep of her Tribequeen’s kitchen in the year 28 AD, and raised by a servant called Cookmother. By the time she’s fourteen, Ailia has grown to recognize the disadvantages of her skinlessness, for skin is the very fabric of one’s social existence.

Australian cover
(Text Publishing)

Although Ailia may lie with a young man at the Beltane fires (and does), she’s unlikely to marry. Others in her matriarchal tribe aren’t allowed to educate her, either, although she picks up cooking and healing techniques by watching others. Naturally, one of her primary goals is discovering her identity, especially when it becomes clear, by means of a supernatural visitation, that she was chosen for a greater destiny by the Mothers, the ancestral guardians of the Celtic lands. And if ever the people of the Durotriga need a strong leader, it’s now. The Romans are primed to invade, and other tribal kings and queens of Albion are divided on their approach to the would-be conquerors.

UK cover
(Hodder Paperbacks)

The geographic setting is deftly realized; Ailia’s homeland of Caer Cad is a hilltown in what’s now known as Somerset, and the great Glastonbury Tor makes several appearances. Ailia has a choice of romantic partners, and each reflects a different direction for her future. (In this regard, there is one unusual and not very appealing sex scene.) Her journey is also a tale of power, revenge, and community.

Fans of traditional historical fiction should be aware that the novel spends much time within the spiritual realms. As a longtime fantasy reader, though, I found it fascinating to see how goings-on in the Mothers’ world influenced events in the “hardworld,” that is, on earth. The dramatic ending, while in tune with history, unfolds swiftly, and, in my view, with an insufficient level of intensity. I also had a sense early on, as is common with fantasy fiction, that this novel was only the beginning of Ailia’s story, and this guess turned out to be right. According to the author’s bio, a sequel is in the works.

Daughter of Albion was published in the US and Canada by Thomas Dunne, an imprint of St. Martin's, in April in hardcover ($25.99/C$36.99).  I've also included the covers for the British and original Australian editions, for which the title is different.  This is my first 2016 entry for the Australian Women Writers Challenge; I'm way behind but catching up!