Fiction

This is an account of a debate held at North Dakota State University between Erich von Daniken and Clifford Wilson, on the subject ‘Does the historical and archaeological evidence support the proposition that ancient human civilisation was influenced by astronauts from outer space?’ on Saturday 11 February 1978. Von Daniken is the author of several books advocating this proposition. These books have sold very well. Wilson has written several books attacking Von Daniken’s position. He is a senior lecturer in education at Monash University in Victoria; describes himself as an archaeologist, and as a ‘Bible-believing Christian.’

Joan Phipson’s theme for her latest children’s book is acutely topical. Sydney is brought to a halt by a series of crippling strikes in protest against a proposed nuclear reactor for Botany Bay and, as power, water and all the essential utilities are withdrawn, the city becomes a wasteland.

Of these two unspectacular books from Second Back Row Press I found Tom Thompson’s Neonline the more rewarding.

It is a book that resists easy identification, being neither a novella nor a sequence of related short stories, and possessing neither a total scheme nor a clutch of subplots, no climax and no emergent theme. There is however a focusing eye, and this restively pursues a loose family of characters around a credible Sydney landscape, which in the closing pages moves via Singapore and Java to Bali.

The title of David Malouf’s novel, An Imaginary Life, must be read three ways. Most obviously, the novel is an imaginative recreation of the last years of the life of the Roman poet, Publius Ovidius Naso (Ovid), who was exiled to a village on the Black Sea by the Emperor Augustus in the last century BCE. The life is imaginary because it imagines – most successfully – the circumstances of this exile.

 This volume of stories adds to the spate of books by or about Turgenev that have appeared recently yet it cannot be said to be redundant, as it provides an English version of five novellas not readily available in a collected form. Since the translator’s argument rests on the importance of the frequently neglected later part of Turgenev’s oeuvre (i.e. the shorter works appearing after the major novels) to a true understanding of Turgenev’s philosophical and spiritual history, then obviously the English-speaking world must have access to it, and they should be pleased to make the acquaintance of this accurate and easy translation.

Shalom, compiled by Nancy Keesing is I think a brilliant and moving collection of short stories.

Ms Keesing, an indefatigable compiler, has brought together for the first time a selection of Jewish stories and. arranged them in three sections, each one of which throws light on a certain aspect of Jewish life, either in Europe, in Australia over a long period, or in the present Australia-Israel conflict. This is a fine and sensitive arrangement of the stories.

In The Mango Tree, McKie captured through a rich and tightly controlled prose the pain and bewilderment attendant on the shifting of a child’s consciousness towards the adult. At the same time, he evoked the shapes and textures of the remembered world of a Queensland town, of a way of life in the act of changing, with a muted note of lament. In Bitter Bread, there is a curious mixture of the mellow prose of The Mango Tree and passages where McKie’s control is loose, passages which spill over into the maudlin and smudge into bathos. Its narrative has not the inner logic of the earlier novel, tending to dart off into peripheral characters and events only limply tied to the central narrative line. At times, McKie seems to be shying away from the task of exploring the central relationship of two widely different consciousnesses caught up together in Melbourne during the Depression.

Kenneth Cook’s latest book is a parable for adults. At the end of the second millennium A.D., God remembers the duty he has overlooked at the end of the first, destroys life on earth. However, no doubt due to his advanced age, he is a little careless, and in a valley in the in the middle of the United States, two mice survive. They and their rapidly multiplying descendants inherit man’s civilization, including thought and speech, but otherwise not memory. They have to develop theory and institutions from scratch, guided by reason and reading.