I’m keeping my 2024 Stella Prize reviews brief, otherwise I simply won’t get through them before the shortlist is announced on April 4.
Next on my list was Edenglassie by Melissa Lucashenko, which tells two Indigenous stories set five generations apart. One story is set at the peak of colonial unrest, when ‘saltwater people’ still outnumber the British, and the other in the present, when a woman and her centenarian grandmother, clash over the meaning of legacy.
Thoughts:
- The dialogue is outstanding, particularly the sections where legacy, heritage and what it means to identify with a place (and as Indigenous) are explored. From the past:
‘Explain to me,’ Mulanyin demanded of Tom as their horses drank from a rivulet, ‘what goes on in the brain of an Englishman? When he arrives in another man’s country to steal his land, and water, and game, and then with a straight face, calls those he steals from thieves? Is this how it is in Scotland? Is this why your people have fled that terrible place?’
‘It’s hard to explain,’ Tom prevaricated.
‘It is harder to see and to live with,’ commented Dalgnai, who until then had been rather quiet.
‘The English have left their country behind,’ Tom answered, struggling for the right response. ‘And in their ignorance, they don’t understand that the land here has its own Law. They think that only their British law exists. Or is the only one that matters in the eyes of God.’ … ‘They respect some boundaries still… Those that are well defended.’
What did ‘well defended’ look like, Mulanyin wondered, if not like a thousand Goories assembled at the Woolloongabba pullen pullen? …
‘But, cousin, if a clan must constantly defend their land,’ mused Dalgnai, …’then they are effectively always at war… Is war normal for the clans of England?’
‘In a way, I suppose,’ Tom said slowly. ‘It’s different, their Country holds no Dreamings to keep them at home.’
And the present:
Winona sighed. Another of the thousands of claimers washing up on the shores of the Aboriginal Nations, looking for refuge and belonging. And bringing all their existential woes along with em, for real blackfellas to fix. Cos we don’t have any problems of our own, nah. We live to help suffering white people with their identity crises. We fucken adore it.
‘Hey, hold up! Ya don’t get to be a blackfella just cos your ancestor was,’ she replied firmly. ‘If ya got no lived experience or living mob, then ya just another bloody white Aussie holding a vanilla milkshake, mate.’
- Lucashenko manages to examine the same issues (prejudice and violence against Indigenous people) in different time periods, deftly highlighting the lack of real progress in Australia. However, this is coupled with
Lucashenkothe characters showing us a way forward. As a result, there’s a sense of hope. - Stories with dual timelines aren’t my favourite – invariably I settle into one story and then have to swing to the other. That said, I totally understand why it’s a useful narrative structure (and Lucashenko spares the reader whiplash).
- There are some standout scenes, notably when the character of Winona comes across a questionable didgeridoo player at Brisbane’s West End market. There’s humour but there’s also a lesson.
- If I’m being picky: wasn’t entirely convinced about the relationship between Winona and Dr Johnny (noticeable because the relationship between Mulanyin and Nita was beautifully crafted). I also didn’t love the way the two timelines were tied together (I won’t say how, but dialogue would have sufficed).
- A book that will prompt #ALLTHEFEELINGS but especially heartbreak, compassion, shame and hope.
Will it win? Maybe (suspect my indifference to dual timelines is getting in the way of objectivity).
3.5/5