Emily Brewin

To say I was eagerly awaiting the release of Small Blessings is an understatement. Emily Brewin’s debut Hello, Goodbye still gives me good book feelings years later and after reading Small Blessings, I think it will have the same effect. This is a quietly powerful, more serious book but it packs no less of an emotional punch.

The story is told in alternate chapters from the point of view of Rosie and Isobel, who couldn’t be more different. Rosie is a single mum, struggling to finish Year 12, work and look after her autistic son Petey. Rosie’s also scared that her ex (and father of Petey) is going to hunt her down. Isobel is a lawyer at the top of her game with a lovely husband, house and all the trappings of wealth. But now her mum is dying and she wants a baby. Both Isobel and Rosie are scared. As their past is brought up to revisit them, they need to confront it instead of running away. For Rosie, this is complex. It involves a past that she has left behind but that may have had lasting effects on her beloved Petey. It goes back to her fractured relationship with her mother, one that is tenuous at best now. Isobel’s past also is influenced by her mother – what she was, but more importantly to teenage Isobel’s eyes, what she wasn’t. Isobel’s teenage years were coloured by the expectations of those she went to school with, and now she feels even more guilty for distancing herself from her working-class roots.

Small Blessings isn’t a huge book, but there is a lot to unpack beyond the words. Neither Rosie nor Isobel are particularly likeable characters but you can’t help but feel their pain, shame and embarrassment. They are relatable – who hasn’t felt shame at something they said or did? Or didn’t do? Both are running from a past that is shameful in their eyes but now the past is looming. Rosie is particularly ashamed of her poverty and that others find her worthless, even though she’s dug herself out of a huge hole. Isobel is guilty of this, using words to wound Rosie exactly where it hurts. Isobel is also very good at wounding herself, examining past decisions and finding herself at fault.

The supporting characters in the novel range from sweet (Petey and Rosie’s neighbour Mr Granthall) to downright obnoxious (Rosie’s mother Vera and Isobel’s brother Lachie). Some are very selfish, others attempting to do their best in their own way. The cast of characters is just what you’d expect to see throughout society, making the novel very realistic. The fact that Rosie and Isobel’s problems are internal also demonstrates that you can’t judge a person’s suffering by how they look or dress. As Isobel tells Rosie, she’s lucky even though Rosie thinks she’s sorely mistaken.

Small Blessings would be an excellent read for book clubs as there’s a lot to discuss from motherhood to the effect of teenage years on the adult. It’s an authentic representation of the struggles of moving past the past and accepting yourself as you are. I devoured this book but Rosie and Isobel will stay with me for much longer.

Thank you to Allen & Unwin for the copy of this book. My review is honest.

http://samstillreading.wordpress.com… (mere)

Hello, Goodbye by Emily Brewin looks like a deceptively simple coming of age story but it packs an extra punch. It reveals Australian attitudes to war, young mothers and Aboriginal people in the late 1960s. Fortunately we’ve made some progress since then. This was an interesting story where the pages just flew by. Emily Brewin’s debut is assured, heartfelt and very Australian.

Hello, Goodbye is told from the point of view of May, a teenager in the small Victorian town of Nurrigul. There isn’t too much to do in town besides hang out with cousin Lucy and boyfriend Sam. May’s home life isn’t easy. After a family tragedy, her mother turned to religion and her dad disappears for long periods, trying to come to terms with his experiences in World War II. When Sam announces he’s moving to Melbourne, May is devastated but open to the challenge of sneaking down to visit him. In Melbourne, May’s eyes are opened to another world – meeting an Aboriginal person for the first time (Clancy, a uni student and member of the Stolen Generation), new music and new ways of thinking. Sam and his new friends are opposed to the war in Vietnam and openly discuss it which is novel to May. Back in Nurrigul, May’s teacher Miss Berry tries to open her mind to new ways of thinking but that is cut short as May’s circumstances change. Can May make her own way in the world or will she let others make the decisions for her?

The story is from a time in Australia we haven’t heard much of to date, although the 1960s were a tumultuous time for change. Hello, Goodbye captures that flow of new ideas and how they jangle against the old ways. It was amazing to see how in the pre-internet and computer days how Melbourne and Nurrigul could be so different in their way of thinking and acceptability. Is it a country/city thing or a lack of connection that today we take for granted? May’s cousin Lucy stands out in the small town – she’s wild with her dress (short skirts!), she smokes, drinks and has a casual relationships. All these things kind of put her on the outer, especially with her mum displaying some ‘hippie’ (aka forward thinking) tendencies. Lucy was my favourite character – she’s blunt and happy go lucky but hides a good heart. But when something serious happens, Lucy’s quirks are put aside as May is the one who is ostracised.

Likewise in Nurrigul, the war in Vietnam is talked about in positive terms, despite the presence of James, a Vietnam vet and May’s father, who both have PTSD. May’s concerns against war are only spoken about with her Melbourne friends or her teacher. When Sam is called up for national service, his fear and hatred against war versus doing his duty make a decision difficult. Conscientiously object, go on the run or go to war? This is the time where demonstrations against the war were only just beginning and it’s a big choice to make.

Without trying to spoil one of the main parts of the plot, how young, single mothers are treated at this time are absolutely disgusting. A single mother had virtually no rights, with medical and nursing staff openly stating their distaste for the woman’s situation. She was treated as someone with no rights or feelings. The constant pressure to adopt the child was relentless and cold. This was one of the most emotional parts of the book for me, shocking in its cruelty. I really felt for the characters involved – even the most determined could give up under that kind of mistreatment.

Overall, Hello, Goodbye is a powerful debut that will both capture your heart and make you ponder the worth of Australia’s past decisions.

Thank you to Allen & Unwin for the copy of this book. My review is honest.

http://samstillreading.wordpress.com… (mere)