MobileRead Forums - View Single Post - Literary The Secret River by Kate Grenville

Marsi · 10-12-2013, 11:32 PM

Spoilers may abound.

In year 12, our English theme was "conflict", and The Secret River was an assigned text (alongside Hosseini's The Kite Runner and Flanagan's The Line). I remember tearing through the novel overnight after our first English period for the year, absorbing my own cultural history as a half-caste myself -- however, I can't seem to find my copy in my 'old school stuff' box, so I'll be commenting based on memory.

On a purely literary note, I find Grenville to be quite poetic. I enjoy reading her words and immersing myself in her 'voice'. She phrases things both effectively and beautifully, and as an experience of words and phrasing, I really enjoyed The Secret River: it was beautiful and modern. As a fan of fantasy and sci-fi, I experience good writing frequently, but rarely is modern writing beautiful, especially not when dealing with an awful situation: I have to turn to Woolf, et al. for that.

I criticise the pacing (though, I regularly find criticisms with novel pacing): it felt, to my seventeen year old self, as though William spent too long in England; there was ample character building (and more relevant character building!) within Australia, there was a brilliant opportunity for character building during the voyage to Australia, and Dick's character could have been built much more smoothly, rather than the seemingly rushed almost 'post-script' about Dick's life at the end.

Now: I remember two scenes with extreme clarity, despite having read this book years ago.

Spoiler:

I wish that I could find my notes from this novel, the essays I wrote on this novel (I recall that I received full marks - it really helped my final score for the year!), and the actual book itself. I'd love to re-read it as an adult, but as I remember the entire thing (details, of course, with more or less precision), I'll just sit back and read this thread. As somebody who is both white and Aboriginal in heritage, and somebody who has Caucasian (and racist) relatives living in America who still openly support black slavery, this book was extremely powerful. I was a sheltered teenager when I read it. It made me cry, it made me become a passionate advocate of human rights, and it was one of my favourite books for two or three years.

ETA:

As an interesting and related side-note, I learned about my cultural heritage at about the age of fifteen. I have a strong memory of my mother telling me not to let anybody at school know that I'm Aboriginal. I obeyed her without really thinking anything of it, but as I've left the quiet confines of a small country school, I've noticed increasing racism: I still don't let people know of my heritage, because despite Australia being heavily multicultural, there's a large culture of native-hatred. It's better to let people believe that I'm party Middle Eastern, or Indian, or Native American, etc. (which most people do) than to correct them and let them know that I'm partly Aboriginal -- in 21st century Australia.

10-12-2013, 11:32 PM	#11
Marsi Nameless Being	Spoilers may abound. In year 12, our English theme was "conflict", and The Secret River was an assigned text (alongside Hosseini's The Kite Runner and Flanagan's The Line). I remember tearing through the novel overnight after our first English period for the year, absorbing my own cultural history as a half-caste myself -- however, I can't seem to find my copy in my 'old school stuff' box, so I'll be commenting based on memory. On a purely literary note, I find Grenville to be quite poetic. I enjoy reading her words and immersing myself in her 'voice'. She phrases things both effectively and beautifully, and as an experience of words and phrasing, I really enjoyed The Secret River: it was beautiful and modern. As a fan of fantasy and sci-fi, I experience good writing frequently, but rarely is modern writing beautiful, especially not when dealing with an awful situation: I have to turn to Woolf, et al. for that. I criticise the pacing (though, I regularly find criticisms with novel pacing): it felt, to my seventeen year old self, as though William spent too long in England; there was ample character building (and more relevant character building!) within Australia, there was a brilliant opportunity for character building during the voyage to Australia, and Dick's character could have been built much more smoothly, rather than the seemingly rushed almost 'post-script' about Dick's life at the end. Now: I remember two scenes with extreme clarity, despite having read this book years ago. Spoiler: I remember the Aboriginal woman, chained in the gentleman's hut (his name escapes me). I remember that she was his sex slave, and that this was regarded as normal; that even the "morally conscious" William had no objections to this exploitation of the Aboriginal woman. This, as a relatively sheltered teenage girl, was an enormous shock to my sensibilities. I cried shortly after reading it. I feel that it drew poignant attention to the issues surrounding the dehumanisation of those not of Anglo-Saxon descent during Britain's fierce colonisation of the world in the 19th Century. I also remember William beating Dick (it was Dick, wasn't it?) for learning spear throwing from the local tribespeople. It was at this point that I decided that I hated William, though I expect that if I could find the bloody book to re-read it, I may dislike him less; I expect that I'd even pity him if I re-read it. This scene dealt powerfully with fear: it showed me that William (and, indeed, the other settlers) was properly scared of Aboriginals. I found this scene to be a powerful social narrative on the perils of racism, and even on how not all racism is driven by hate. What I took from these scenes, when placed side by side, was fear and hatred driving racism, equally yet, at times, separately entirely. I wish that I could find my notes from this novel, the essays I wrote on this novel (I recall that I received full marks - it really helped my final score for the year!), and the actual book itself. I'd love to re-read it as an adult, but as I remember the entire thing (details, of course, with more or less precision), I'll just sit back and read this thread. As somebody who is both white and Aboriginal in heritage, and somebody who has Caucasian (and racist) relatives living in America who still openly support black slavery, this book was extremely powerful. I was a sheltered teenager when I read it. It made me cry, it made me become a passionate advocate of human rights, and it was one of my favourite books for two or three years. ETA: As an interesting and related side-note, I learned about my cultural heritage at about the age of fifteen. I have a strong memory of my mother telling me not to let anybody at school know that I'm Aboriginal. I obeyed her without really thinking anything of it, but as I've left the quiet confines of a small country school, I've noticed increasing racism: I still don't let people know of my heritage, because despite Australia being heavily multicultural, there's a large culture of native-hatred. It's better to let people believe that I'm party Middle Eastern, or Indian, or Native American, etc. (which most people do) than to correct them and let them know that I'm partly Aboriginal -- in 21st century Australia. Last edited by Marsi; 10-12-2013 at 11:51 PM. Reason: fixing some grammar.