Last year’s reading got off to a very satisfying start with a book by an Australian author – Jennifer Down’s compassionate, clear-sighted and lovely debut, Our Magic Hour. Coincidentally, this year’s has also begun with a beautifully crafted, thoroughly engaging Australian novel. I’d read and enjoyed Michelle de Kretser’s Questions of Travel a few years ago but The Life to Come feels like a much more ambitious novel to me, managing to be both funny and poignant as it examines the state of modern Australia through the stories of a disparate set of characters linked by their relationship to one woman.
The novel opens in the 1990s with George, an aspiring novelist, taking over a house left empty by an elderly cousin. When he bumps into an old student from his tutoring days in need of somewhere to live, he offers her a room. Pippa espouses all the right ideas but seems incapable of living by them, constantly spouting earnest platitudes. When she declares an ambition to become a novelist, George can barely conceal his sneer. Several years later, Cassie unburdens herself to Pippa over coffee. Cassie has fallen in love with Ash – half-Scottish, half Sri Lankan – but it’s clear that she wants a very different relationship from the one he’s prepared to offer. Pippa seems too caught up in her own annoyance at finding only one copy of her novel in a bookshop to offer much consolation. Soon she will be in Paris, awarded a residency to work on her next novel, where she becomes friends with Céleste who grew up in Australia and now works as a translator when not yearning after her married lover, Sabine. Céleste finds herself unexpectedly missing Pippa when she goes home, despite worrying that she might make an appearance as one of Pippa’s characters. Pippa’s novels continue to be relentlessly autobiographical, her husband’s imagined affair and its consequences offering material for the next one. In the book’s final section, Pippa befriends her elderly Sri Lankan neighbour, inviting her to tea with every appearance of solicitude beneath which lurks an ulterior motive. The novel ends with a literary festival which hosts both Pippa and George.
Pippa is the glue that holds the novel’s episodic structure together. Through the stories of Pippa’s friends and acquaintances, de Kretser deftly explores modern life with a deceptively light touch and a hefty dollop of dry, often waspish humour. Barbs are tossed at a multitude of modern obsessions, from social media – which often felt like reading my own Twitter timeline – to faddish food. Frantic virtue signalling in the shape of Eva who never misses the chance to parade her support for ethnic diversity is neatly counterbalanced by the casual racism that her husband demonstrates, a theme which runs through the novel. The literary festival scenes towards the end are particularly amusing, and perhaps heartfelt. Throughout it all, de Kretser’s penetrating observation and mordant humour is underpinned with compassion, most movingly so in the final section which explores the loneliness of old age. This is a fine novel: perceptive and intelligent, sharp yet humane. I’ll be astonished if it’s not on my books of the year list next December.
Other than Peter Carey and Kate Grenville, I have read very little Australian fiction aimed at adults although at one time I read a great deal of their children’s literature. Perhaps this is an author to start with.
She’s a very interesting writer. This is the second novel I’ve read by her and I’ve found them both mature and considered. The humour in this one is a bonus.
This sounds really intriguing, structure & context… very curious about Pippa and her writing ‘relentlessly autobiographical’ and your summary ‘de Kretser’s penetrating observation and mordant humour is underpinned with compassion’ nails it for me.
I’m hoping to do one of The AWW reading Australian Women goals this year so will add this to the wish list.
It’s a superb novel, Poppy, and I’m sure would fit right in to reading Australian women. I’d also highly recommend Jennifer Down’s Our Magic Hour which got very little attention in the UK when it was published but is a wonderful novel.
I really like the sound of this. I, too, enjoyed Questions of Travel and I’m sure I’ve read another of hers, The Lost Dog?
I think you’d love it, Claire. I haven’t read The Lost Dog but have heard good reports of The Hamilton Case.
I am ashamed to admit how little Australian fiction I’ve read. I think the last one was a reissue by Persephone! Thanks so much for this review, reminds me of my reading gap that I need to remedy.
You’re welcome, Melissa. I’m the same with Canadian fiction, although I put that down to availability. The new Peter Carey’s coming up soon, and it’s a good one.
It sounds like a complex but rewarding read, and a good start to the reading year. Hopefully a sign of how the rest of the year will pan out 🙂
Yes, that sums it up, Belinda, and fingers crossed!
It’s nice to have a good start to the year!
It most certainly is!