READ FOR NZ BOOK AWARDS
In 1866 a ship bound for London from Melbourne crashed into the Auckland Islands and sunk, taking with it many lives and an undetermined amount of gold, direct from the goldfields of Australia. Fourteen men and one woman made it ashore and began the long, arduous task of staying alive. Here, Sanders gives voice to Mary-Ann Jewell, of whom little is known, with a fictional imagining of her time on the Auckland Isles.
We were nearly out of the cave when the wave hit and bounced off the end wall. We gripped on. Thirty, perhaps forty people cowered behind us in the long boat. The wave lifted and swamped them. Capsized, there were screams and frenzy and bodies falling. I saw them drown.
● I particularly enjoy fictional retellings of true events, especially NZ stories as it feels important to have these stories widely known and historically documented. Sanders has done a fine job with this novel. The historical facts of the wreck are accurate and surely she researched well to determine just how these 15 people could attempt survival in such barren and bitter conditions. The characterisation of Mrs Jewell suits the story perfectly, for it is natural to wonder how one woman survived this ordeal with 14 men, what her roles would have been, how she was treated and what her struggles where in comparison to the men. On top of a beautiful balance to those considerations, Sanders has written a rip-roaring read. I read it over one night/morning, my only break about 1am when my eyes couldn’t stay open any longer. Highly recommend this. – Rachel
● I felt quite desperate while reading Mrs Jewell and the Wreck of the General Grant. My first driving question was whether this was based on a true story or was it fictional, and the second was WILL THEY MAKE IT?! This was another fantastic story written from a female perspective and I so appreciate the authors who are creatively contributing and providing a voice for women where history books seem to have otherwise passed them over. A big thank you to Cristina Sanders for taking this reader along on such an absolutely extraordinary journey. – Suzy
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Published 2022
The Cuba Press
321 pages
READ FOR NZ BOOK AWARDS
In the opening pages a 19-year-old man walks onto his family Marae and asks the local koroua about his whanau’s history. The man’s answer is provided over the following 300-odd pages. He tells of Kaitanga, born 1734 into a proud line and destined to be not only chief but a warrior, born to avenge the killings of his uncles and other tribesmen. We follow Kai, as he is known, from his birth through to his adulthood and hear about his warrior training, his friendships and loves and the pressure of living with such expectations upon him.
At the front of the book the author tells us ‘This saga is loosely based not on one true story but on many true stories.’
‘Our son’s name shall be a reminder to him, and to all his generation, that it will be by their hands that our tribe shall be avenged … Kia whakairo rawatia te tikange o tēnei ingoa ki tōna wairau mo ake tonu atu,’ Tāwae declared. Let the meaning of this name be seared deep into his soul forever.
● I appreciated how Kawai didn’t try and sugarcoat anything in regards to Māori history, with it delving right into certain subjects that have been completely avoided by other Aotearoa novels. Speaking of avoidance, I generally steer clear of historical multi-generational stories because I am not necessarily very interested in learning about some American family on a prairie hundreds of years ago. However, when it is set in my own country my buy-in was immediate and I was gripped. Dr Soutar’s (Ngāti Porou, Ngāti Awa, Ngāi Tai ki Tāmaki, Ngāti Kahungunu) biography clearly shows that he knows his stuff, and he has turned his knowledge of this country’s past into a highly readable and fascinating story. – Suzy
● This story is dense, detailing what appears to be, a realistic retelling of pre-colonial Māori life and the no-holds barred realities of tribal conflict. It features extensive use of Te Reo, translating in a way that aids readability but treats the reader and their knowledge with respect. The book is bound to become an important feature of NZ history texts. The author has done an amazing job here, writing something historically accurate but with a plot and characters that read like traditional fiction. My only gripe is the ending – it is clear the story continues in a second instalment. – Rachel
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Published 2022
David Bateman
371 pages
READ FOR NZ BOOK AWARDS
NZ Crime fiction. Detective Hana Westerman chases down a serial killer who is undertaking utu, avenging past atrocities against Māori. Offers insight into New Zealand’s often controversial justice system.
● At first I was surprised to hear a crime story had secured a place on the shortlist over literary greats like Lloyd Jones and Vincent O’Sullivan. But who’s to say genre fiction doesn’t deserve a place on literary prize lists. Especially when, like Better The Blood, it has more substance than your average detective novel.
I found the historical information interesting and was provoked into thought by the commentary on how we view privilege and what our modern day responsibilities are, not to exact retribution for past wrongs but to re-establish balance.
However, it was disappointing this balance wasn’t evident in the presentation of the book. The important historical aspect and the detective plot were out of symmetry. I was also let down by the footnotes, where everyday Māori words like iwi and whanau were explained. It has been 50 years since Patricia Grace first refused such translations in her novels so this feels like a step backwards. Perhaps the book has an international intent but in my opinion it was obvious what the words meant from their context and surely the book’s biggest audience was always going to be New Zealanders.
Overall, I can see why it was included on the shortlist and it will probably be widely read, but I don’t think it will or should take home the top prize. – Rachel
For the Maori cops it was a nightmare. You learn your whole life to treat your elders with respect, to give others the dignity they deserve, to come to resolution through words, the way of the marae. Then you wake up one morning, you pull on your uniform … and that morning you realise your history, your background, the things you got taught on marae, none of that matters. You’re a person with a uniform. And a truncheon. That’s all you are.
● This didn’t necessarily feel like a typical Ockham novel, but once I’d surrendered to Better The Blood being a detective/crime story I was in. And as the story progressed it became clear it was so much more than just that.
How on earth did Michael Bennett (Te Arawa) so sensitively weave the devastating effects of colonialism with a rip-roaring story – I feel like it could have gone so wrong. I have read novels where being educated by the author within fiction felt clunky and also like I was being lectured to (sorry but I’m looking at you Anuk Arudpragasam), however it was done very naturally in Better The Blood.
The only thing that felt a bit clunky was the English translations for all Māori words. After recently reading Pōtiki and Patricia Grace’s refusal to do this, I kind of wish Michael Bennett had done the same. – Suzy
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Published 2023
325 pages
Simon & Schulster
READ FOR NZ BOOK AWARDS
Set in Wellington, down from Upland Road in Kelburn, this book is a satirical tale about the complexities of growing up, when you’re a teenager and when you’re in your 40s.
Axle has joined a new school. He is at parties, attempting to make friends and impress girls, light beers from his parents in his hands.
His parents, Scott and Jacqui, are civil servants, stuck in the cogs of the Government wheel, wanting more excitement from life. The idea of an open marriage comes to the fore and Jacqui fits into this new outlook with ease while Scott’s attempts at seduction just get him in hot water.
“I would, of course,” said Jacqui. “But my situation is different. As far as I know, Scott has been wholly loyal. Not to make myself into Cinderella, but the shoe just doesn’t fit.
“You can make it fit if you want. Be inventive. What did the sister do in the original, unsanitised version? Cut off some toes, hack off the heel?” Kaye said.
The book is funny, cringey and ickily realistic. The characters are well-defined. I felt pulled in from the outset, as if I was sitting there with Scott while he said inappropriate things, watching things play out through gaps in my fingers. I had the feeling of wanting to stand up and walk away but couldn’t stop watching the train wreck.
Obviously with all three characters navigating changes and trying to grow up there are going to be dramas and arguments and surprises, and Murdoch Stevens does not disappoint.
Also, extra kudos for this book because the author’s name is Murdoch, same as my cat. Meow. – Rachel
Published 2022
Lawrence & Gibson Publishing
240 pages
READ FOR NZ BOOK AWARDS 2023
A baby is born to a young, single mother in a caravan park, suffering from an unnamed condition which earns him the name the Fish. The story of the Fish, and the family’s shame and secrets are narrated by the Fish’s uncle, himself only a child.
● Lloyd Jones often writes about otherness, about people who are different or isolated or put in a corner for no other reason than they make those around them feel uneasy. The Fish is no different.
The new baby, Colin Montgomery, is referred to as the Fish for his mostly unexplained unique features. The opening pages detail the shock and shame the family go through at having this new creature in their lives, birthed in a trailer park. But, as with all babies, a fierce sense of love and protection overcome the family and he becomes the centre of their world.
We find a place to hide the class photo. We worry that the Fish will see in the photo what has not been apparent to him in his short life so far. He is different. A fact that would perhaps astound him. My sister has given birth to difference. Worse, she has placed difference in our ranks. What the Fish ought to feel transfers itself onto us. The girl in the photo rearing away from our Fish makes me want to lean into her and bare my teeth.
As expected, not all is plain sailing. The family have secrets and peculiar life habits and are judged by outsiders in what becomes a book about alienation and social acceptance and tragedy. This atmosphere is enhanced by the setting, mid 20th Century New Zealand, post-war when close-mindedness was rife.
The narrator is a passive observer and also a child himself at the start and this works well as we are learning with him, about how to love the Fish, about the cruelties of the world. Sometimes the child uncle doesn’t know how to explain the complexities and that is okay because sometimes things don’t need to be over explained. Sometimes a few simple words make enough of an impact.
It did feel like there were some plot holes, or maybe plot decisions made for convenience but I didn’t mind because the book had an allegorical, slightly magical realist bent anyway. The writing is stunning and the New Zealandness of the time and setting shines through. I loved this book and was really surprised it did not make the NZ Book Awards short list. – Rachel
Published 2022
Text Publishing
272 pages
READ FOR NZ BOOK AWARDS
A day in the life of three brown friends hanging out in Auckland, eating, chatting, catching the bus, amongst racism, gentrification and the modern effects of colonisation.
That’s the third person I know without a house.
What the hell is going on?
They’re pulling us out of our own soil … like weeds.
I’m not a weed.
● In this book there is a trio of friends who are young and hopeful, clever and contemplative. They offer interesting and witty thoughts on relevant topics in voices that range from street language to intellectual. They are innocent. They are powerful. They are also brown and so their everyday experiences are tinged with the effects of racism both spoken and unspoken.
The book could be described as a novel, a short story, an essay, a long poem, musings … Coco Solid (Ngāpuhi, Sāmoa) uses the word novel on the front cover but I think it’s a lot more honest and raw than this word portrays. Plus the text is arranged in interesting ways and there are drawings scattered throughout. It is very much a multi-genre work of art that reflects a honest day in the life of an ordinary Kiwi. – Rachel
Riding New Zealand buses, same as riding dick.
You need to be optimistic your next one won’t let you down despite what you know.
You let a bus timetable lie to your face.
But you still get on board don’t you?
I’m just saying. If you and them are going the same way … why not hop on?
Published 2022
Penguin
176 pages
READ FOR BOOKCLUB & NZ BOOK AWARDS
Chosen by Suzy
From New Zealand author Catherine Chidgey is a story quite unlike her former novels. Instead of wartime Germany, this time the setting is rural New Zealand and the protagonist is a magpie called Tama, who narrates succinctly and regurgitates phrases moments after hearing them.
Tama falls from his nest as a chick and local farmer’s wife Marnie scoops him up and raises him. Though he has a magpie family in the trees, Tama learns the ways of his human parents and adopts them, copying phrases, sleeping in a mini bed with a pillow, meowing as he enters and exits via the cat door, and eating human food.
His owners decide to financially capitalise on his talents and install cameras throughout the home linked to an Instagram account, however the cameras capture more than expected and tell a private story of their own.
Tama’s naive outlook on life mimics what other authors do with child narrators, giving us the bare basics of information and letting us work out the real facts ourselves. There is a focus on domesticity, human relationships and power struggles or control.
I stepped … from the windowsill to the deep-freeze. My right eye saw the gathering night and my left eye saw Marnie and she was not going to wring my neck, or run me down, or shoot me, or poison me. That was not how houses worked. I threw myself on my back and waited for her to scratch my belly because she loved me.
● I really enjoyed this book! Having Tama the magpie as narrator was a bit of a wildcard approach, however Catherine Chidgey is so good I am now wondering why more novels don’t have magpie narrators! The main plot was absolutely a page-turner and was written with heart and a sensitivity to what were some fairly unpleasant events. There were also some humourous moments that allowed me to exhale rather than (what felt like) constantly holding my breath through the tension. Following our bookclub discussion there was a slight sense of unease about the author’s intention with a possible extended metaphor around colonisation, however we may have not been completely correct with that. – Suzy
● I have to admit I was a bit apprehensive learning the protagonist was a magpie!! I needn’t have worried – I loved it from the offset. Tama was a believable and charming protagonist. His perspective had an air of innocence in the complicated world of humans. The novel was littered with humour, disaster, love and brutality and a sense of dread that had me turning the pages. I was intrigued about what would play out. I loved the rural NZ setting and felt familiar with the surroundings where the novel was based. I thoroughly enjoyed and would recommend The Axeman’s Carnival to anyone. – Jodie
● Catherine Chidgey is a top quality and consistent writer. Having a bird as narrator could put people off but with Chidgey there’s no doubt she’d make it work. Tama is a bird but he’s like narrators – human and otherwise – who relay events simply as they see them and allow the reader to be fully involved. I was so immersed in Tama’s life, Marnie and Rob’s life and all the drama and tension. The only part that disappointed me was the comparison of Tama’s life in a white family with colonisation (“he has been colonised … forced to wear degrading costumes … video shoots for the titillation of an international audience … erosion of his mother tongue … exploitative merchandise“). While I value stories of colonisation, this felt suddenly thrown at us, political, and out of character for the book. However to Chidgey’s credit it did not turn into a moralistic lecture. The story’s conclusion was suitable to the style of the book and in the end I loved 99.9% of it. Recommended read. – Rachel
● This book had great characters with a magpie taking centre stage. There were lots of funny moments (“Meow”) and a doom filled plot – this book had all the elements to make it memorable. However, there is one glaring problem: the confusingly offensive comparison between Tama and Māori when he is kidnapped. This aspect was easily overlooked while I was engrossed and sped along to the end but led to uncomfortable reflections afterwards. I totally loved this book but feel a bit let down. I’d love to know why the author included these elements at all, when they were not substantiated with further discourse. – Jo
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Published 2022
Te Herenga Waka Victoria University Pres
352 pages
Looking for an escape from reality is a primary reason why many people read: to forget the worries of the world, the stresses of work, the demands of family and to take a moment to indulge in a fantastical world that stretches and opens the mind.
Our books choices for 2023 seem to be a telling sign of how we all felt about 2022, for there is little that resembles the reality we once knew. Instead there is a selection of magical realism, horror, dystopian, mythical, psychological fiction, and absurbism. There are asylum residents, zombies, talking magpies, mysterious aliments and cannibals.
There are realms where realities and personalities alter, revealing other sides of ourselves as a humanity. This seems to be the most alternative selection of settings, plots and genres in all our bookclub years, though it will be interesting to see if these radical worlds remain escapism attempts or if we find connections amongst the strange and the imagined that link us right back to actuality.
We circumnavigate the globe too, reading literature from New Zealand, Australia, the UK, the US, Japan, Argentina and China.
Here’s the reading list:
Lessons – Ian McEwen
The Axeman’s Carnival – Catherine Chidgey
The Girl WIth All The Gifts – M R Carey
The Swimmers – Julie Otsuka
The Foundling – Ann Leary
Convenience Store Woman – Sayaka Murata
Sorrow & Bliss – Meg Mason
Tender Is The Flesh – Agustina Bazterrica
Dairy Of A Void – Emi Yagi
The Last White Man – Mohsin Hamid
Cocoon – Zhang Yueran
The Rabbits – Sophie Overett
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