Five authors whose books are better than sliced bread (well, very close)
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Are you like me and will spend these colder months like Dracula, hibernating from the world, your only sunlight coming from various lamps around the house?
Well, my little equally as pale friend. Take a seat, grab a bickie (because it’s a scientific fact you can’t feel angry with a biscuit in hand) and sink your teeth into some bloody good literature.
Blue nights: Joan Didion
Blue nights is a heartbreaking and beautiful novel that will forever be at the top of my most beloved book list. Joan captures the harrowing experience of losing her daughter, Quintana Roo and her struggle to find her sense of self again.
Despite its tragedy, the novel withholds a warmth—the warmth of a Mother who so deeply loves her daughter. Joan’s poetic words of genius oozing, mi casa is su casa, (make yourself at home). You are safe; you are with Joan now.
Monkey Grip: Helen Garner
Oh, how I love this book. Monkey Grip takes us on an intimate and grungy exploration of the reality of living in a share house in the 70’s- while simultaneously falling in love with a drug addict. Her poetry intertwined throughout creates this beautiful and, at times, heartbreaking account of the push and pull that comes with loving someone who doesn’t love themselves. An evocative and compelling testimony to Motherhood and all the complexities of life in-between. Accepted as a classic of modern Australian literature, if you haven’t read it, it’s one you are going to want to put at the top of your reading list.
Cannibal in Manhattan: Tama Janowitz
It’s always a delight to step inside the wild and creative mind of Tama Janowitz, and Cannibal in Manhattan is no expectation. It follows the story of Mgungu Yabba Mgungu, who is plucked away from his 100 pigs and various wives into the strange and brutal world of New York. His bizarre encounters and blatant exploitation is gripping at times, even uplifting, in the same way, that tough situations bring out our inner chutzpah.
My Place: Sally Morgan
Ugh, this book. Sally’s autobiographic novel is a love note to the memories of her childhood and teenage years. Her extremely well-observed prose explores the challenges she faced in understanding her indigenous identity while growing up in suburban Perth. Her vulnerability and childlike observations shed light on her complicated relationship with her acholic father and the complexities of simulating into white society. These memories dance alongside her love for animals and the gentle teachings of her Grandmother.
My place begins with Sally before being gracefully passed on to her Mother and Grandmother, who tell their stories with the kind of insight and elegance that we witness in Sally’s work. It’s thought-provoking and companionable, all the stuff you want while your dip third bickie into a cuppa tea.
Perfume: Patrick Suskind
We won’t blame you if you add “dangerously strong sense of smell” to your list of red flags list after reading this novel. Set in eighteenth-century France, Perfume follows the story of Jean-Baptiste Grenouille, who is born with an absolute sense of smell.
This evolutionary ability mutates into a visceral disgust associated with the scent of humanity, driving his obsession to discover the ultimate perfume. And no, it’s not Chanel No 5, but rather virgin women. It’s a harrowing and, at times, poignant exploration of how a man’s obsession and sensual depravity can ultimately lead to his own destruction. Suskind’s sharp observations intertwined with his surreal style will make it all too easy to read this intense little novel in one anxious sitting.
