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Last Drinks
Shortlisted for The Age Book of the Year , the Queensland Premier's Literary Award and winner of the Ned Kelly Award for Best First Crime Novel.It's a decade since the infamous Inquiry into corruption tore the state of Queensland apart. But for George Verney, disgraced journalist and bit-player in the great scandals of his day, the Inquiry has never quite finished. After ten years of self-imposed exile, drawn by the terrible death of a man who was his friend, he reluctantly returns to Brisbane, the city of his downfall. In a town he no longer recognises and through an underworld that has forgotten him, George must seek out the other hidden survivors of his times, to confront the truth about their common past.' Last Drinks , fast moving, funny and shocking, is a lament for all that can go wrong not only in the life of one man, but in the life of an entire state.This is crime fiction that transcends the genre . . . It's a truly compelling and stylish novel, seamlessly written.' - Debra Adelaide, Sydney Morning Herald
377 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2000
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380 people want to read
About the author
Andrew McGahan
16 books110 followersAndrew McGahan (b. 1966) was an Australian novelist, best known for his first novel Praise, and for his Miles Franklin Award-winning novel The White Earth. His novel Praise is considered to be part of the Australian literary genre of grunge lit.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 53 reviews
August 19, 2017
4.5★
The fumes of alcohol wafting from this book threaten to overpower the story. In corrupt Bjelke-Petersen’s Queensland, there was no such thing as “last drinks” – somebody was always open to those in the know. And those in the know each knocked back three bottles of wine – three each – at a sitting (and while sliding to the floor). Why was Queensland corrupt?
‘The worship of ignorance. It’s an excuse, that’s all it is. It’s the excuse of rednecks and backwaters and corrupt governments the world over. The saddest thing is that people believe it. They get used to it. They accept whatever leftovers they’re given. And meanwhile the bastards at the top keep scooping the heart out of the place.”
Tump’s America? No. Australia’s Queensland State Government of the 1980s. George Verney is the fictional narrator, a disgraced, former hard-drinking journalist involved on the fringes of the widespread corruption of the Joh Bjelke-Petersen era. Joh, a colourful and folksy peanut farmer, was married to Flo, famous for her pumpkin scones. A laughable hillbilly comedy duo, if only it didn’t have such serious ramifications.
McGahan’s novel, written in 2000, is fiction, but golly gosh (as Joh might have said), I recognise it from the gossip at the time, long before we finally got an inquiry. I lived in rural NSW not far from the Queensland border where farmers were partial to Joh’s colourful free-for-all attitude and admired “Joh for Prime Minister” tee-shirts. (Currently a play. http://www.abc.net.au/news/2017-07-06... )
Thank goodness for the inquiry. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fitzger...
The story begins with a horrendous murder in the inland village of Highgrove ten years after The Inquiry swept a new broom through Parliament. George lives here. He had escaped serious notice as a bit player in the businesses of brothels, gambling, and liquor, and thought he was safe, but the victim was one of his old close pals.
From there we wend our way back to the good old (bad old) days, (where George drank and drank and pined for an equally drunken lady love), and then return to now, (where new teetotaller George has settled comfortably with Emily, a young widowed teacher).
In Brisbane, George was only ever considered the 'friend-of-a-friend-who’s-handy-because-he-writes-for-the-paper'. Reduced as he is now to occasional bits for the small town paper, he heads back to Brisbane to try to retrace his old steps and track down who might have killed his old mate. There’s plenty of intrigue and back story about who did what to whom back in the day, most of it unsavoury. Today’s vendetta, or whatever it is, is considerably more frightening and deadly.
The hum in the background is MAY MAY MAYBELLINE. George pines for May, all through the book, all through his life, all through his happy, civilised existence with Emily. People do get obsessed with someone, particularly if they are out-of-reach, and May seems to have floated in and out of reach regularly back in the good/bad old days.
I got tired of the alcohol and the “Mayday” repetitions, but I have to admit I bet it was exactly like that. Overpoweringly, boozily corrupt. I liked the look at dirty politics.
George explains how a particularly unqualified, unappealing man with no influence was elected to State Parliament and became a minister:
“Half the Queensland government was running on the same ticket, even the premier, for Queenslanders were always wary of the more sophisticated types—they liked their representatives to be awkward and stumbling. They mistook it for honesty. So much so that the Queensland parliament sometimes bordered on a sideshow collection of the ugly, the misshapen and the incoherent.”
Later, this now former minister tells George:
“That’s how Queensland worked. We could do anything in those days. You could award contracts to whoever you liked, there was no tendering process, no supervision. You could rezone land just by ministerial decree. Suspend building codes, suspend environmental reports. There wasn’t even such a thing as native title or land rights, and we had the green movement locked away on fucking drug offences. Anything you wanted done, you could do. As long as you had a mate in the cabinet.”
McGahan can certainly write, not only about nauseatingly accurate alcoholic binges but also about the new city of Brisbane and about the bucolic countryside where George first escaped to dry out. He hiked through tangled bush to “Redemption Falls” (and remarked on the irony), desperate to completely exhaust himself. Blistered, muddy, retching, he arrives.
“The track came to an end and a small stream plunged over a sheer escarpment. I stood on the edge. Part of my mind realised that I was standing on the very southern rim of the Border Ranges. I could see a sprawl of further mountain ranges, deep valleys and forests, all of it grey beneath shreds of cloud and rain and mist. It was New South Wales. Even as I watched, the water of the stream was tumbling from Queensland into a new state. A single leap and I could follow it. A hundred, a hundred and fifty metres to the rocks below, and I’d be rid of Queensland at last.”
Not the Queensland of the tourist brochures, but a fascinating look at some recent history, albeit a bit long. (Yeah, I should talk.)
The fumes of alcohol wafting from this book threaten to overpower the story. In corrupt Bjelke-Petersen’s Queensland, there was no such thing as “last drinks” – somebody was always open to those in the know. And those in the know each knocked back three bottles of wine – three each – at a sitting (and while sliding to the floor). Why was Queensland corrupt?
‘The worship of ignorance. It’s an excuse, that’s all it is. It’s the excuse of rednecks and backwaters and corrupt governments the world over. The saddest thing is that people believe it. They get used to it. They accept whatever leftovers they’re given. And meanwhile the bastards at the top keep scooping the heart out of the place.”
Tump’s America? No. Australia’s Queensland State Government of the 1980s. George Verney is the fictional narrator, a disgraced, former hard-drinking journalist involved on the fringes of the widespread corruption of the Joh Bjelke-Petersen era. Joh, a colourful and folksy peanut farmer, was married to Flo, famous for her pumpkin scones. A laughable hillbilly comedy duo, if only it didn’t have such serious ramifications.
McGahan’s novel, written in 2000, is fiction, but golly gosh (as Joh might have said), I recognise it from the gossip at the time, long before we finally got an inquiry. I lived in rural NSW not far from the Queensland border where farmers were partial to Joh’s colourful free-for-all attitude and admired “Joh for Prime Minister” tee-shirts. (Currently a play. http://www.abc.net.au/news/2017-07-06... )
Thank goodness for the inquiry. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fitzger...
The story begins with a horrendous murder in the inland village of Highgrove ten years after The Inquiry swept a new broom through Parliament. George lives here. He had escaped serious notice as a bit player in the businesses of brothels, gambling, and liquor, and thought he was safe, but the victim was one of his old close pals.
From there we wend our way back to the good old (bad old) days, (where George drank and drank and pined for an equally drunken lady love), and then return to now, (where new teetotaller George has settled comfortably with Emily, a young widowed teacher).
In Brisbane, George was only ever considered the 'friend-of-a-friend-who’s-handy-because-he-writes-for-the-paper'. Reduced as he is now to occasional bits for the small town paper, he heads back to Brisbane to try to retrace his old steps and track down who might have killed his old mate. There’s plenty of intrigue and back story about who did what to whom back in the day, most of it unsavoury. Today’s vendetta, or whatever it is, is considerably more frightening and deadly.
The hum in the background is MAY MAY MAYBELLINE. George pines for May, all through the book, all through his life, all through his happy, civilised existence with Emily. People do get obsessed with someone, particularly if they are out-of-reach, and May seems to have floated in and out of reach regularly back in the good/bad old days.
I got tired of the alcohol and the “Mayday” repetitions, but I have to admit I bet it was exactly like that. Overpoweringly, boozily corrupt. I liked the look at dirty politics.
George explains how a particularly unqualified, unappealing man with no influence was elected to State Parliament and became a minister:
“Half the Queensland government was running on the same ticket, even the premier, for Queenslanders were always wary of the more sophisticated types—they liked their representatives to be awkward and stumbling. They mistook it for honesty. So much so that the Queensland parliament sometimes bordered on a sideshow collection of the ugly, the misshapen and the incoherent.”
Later, this now former minister tells George:
“That’s how Queensland worked. We could do anything in those days. You could award contracts to whoever you liked, there was no tendering process, no supervision. You could rezone land just by ministerial decree. Suspend building codes, suspend environmental reports. There wasn’t even such a thing as native title or land rights, and we had the green movement locked away on fucking drug offences. Anything you wanted done, you could do. As long as you had a mate in the cabinet.”
McGahan can certainly write, not only about nauseatingly accurate alcoholic binges but also about the new city of Brisbane and about the bucolic countryside where George first escaped to dry out. He hiked through tangled bush to “Redemption Falls” (and remarked on the irony), desperate to completely exhaust himself. Blistered, muddy, retching, he arrives.
“The track came to an end and a small stream plunged over a sheer escarpment. I stood on the edge. Part of my mind realised that I was standing on the very southern rim of the Border Ranges. I could see a sprawl of further mountain ranges, deep valleys and forests, all of it grey beneath shreds of cloud and rain and mist. It was New South Wales. Even as I watched, the water of the stream was tumbling from Queensland into a new state. A single leap and I could follow it. A hundred, a hundred and fifty metres to the rocks below, and I’d be rid of Queensland at last.”
Not the Queensland of the tourist brochures, but a fascinating look at some recent history, albeit a bit long. (Yeah, I should talk.)
December 1, 2019
The first half of this book was pretty good, even though I didn't like the narrator - George Verney - journalist and bit part player in a major Queensland corruption inquiry some years prior. George is rambling, repetitive and beyond redemption. The reader desperately wants him to find some peace etc but he keeps making terrible choices, so long before the end I'd given up on him. He got much worse, as it happened.
The second half of the book was not so good. There were several new characters introduced (two of them very late) who figured large in the conclusion in a thinly veiled deus ex machina. There were highly improbable plot twists, and I found my dislike for George ratcheting up several notches.
I was surprised at the editing mistakes (for an A&U novel) - there was even an example (in a critical scene) when George calls Emily May. But worst of all, I guessed pretty much everything in the story long before it happened. Good crime writers can set up a suspicion in the reader's mind and then confound them with a masterful sleight of pen that was hidden in plain view. This story's conclusion consisted of some bits obvious from the start, and other bits dependent on late revelation that the reader could never have guessed and therefore can't admire. Pretty disappointing.
The story was also way too long.
It did have its good points - some pretty interesting stuff clearly based on a fictionalisation of the Fitzgerald Inquiry and the psychology of Queensland - but in the end I couldn't finish it quickly enough. Two and a half stars.
The second half of the book was not so good. There were several new characters introduced (two of them very late) who figured large in the conclusion in a thinly veiled deus ex machina. There were highly improbable plot twists, and I found my dislike for George ratcheting up several notches.
I was surprised at the editing mistakes (for an A&U novel) - there was even an example (in a critical scene) when George calls Emily May. But worst of all, I guessed pretty much everything in the story long before it happened. Good crime writers can set up a suspicion in the reader's mind and then confound them with a masterful sleight of pen that was hidden in plain view. This story's conclusion consisted of some bits obvious from the start, and other bits dependent on late revelation that the reader could never have guessed and therefore can't admire. Pretty disappointing.
The story was also way too long.
It did have its good points - some pretty interesting stuff clearly based on a fictionalisation of the Fitzgerald Inquiry and the psychology of Queensland - but in the end I couldn't finish it quickly enough. Two and a half stars.
December 12, 2018
There had been inquiries before, and they had been safely managed, the terms limited. But something was in the air this time. The Queen’s Counsel appointed to run the Inquiry was, to everyone’s surprise, apparently in deadly earnest. The long-suffering elements of law and order saw a sliver of a chance...
This is Queensland laid bare, as told through the eyes of George Vernay, one-time features writer with a Brisbane daily, a bit-player in the corruption that held sway in the seventies and eighties. In the beginning he had befriended Charlie, who ran his parents’ restaurant and wanted a liquor licence instead of a “BYO’ – as a place where he and friends could drink outside the restricted licensing hours. Soon they would mingle with “people in the know” and form a small syndicate which included a Cabinet Minister Marvin, career politician Jeremy (knighted for his services to the State), Lindsay “the money man”, and in the background, Maybelline, a one-time activist against the government. With Charlie as the front-man the syndicate acquired more restaurants and had interests in clubs (gaming and prostitution). When the enquiry into the “Moonlight State” was aired George was called for evidence and dismissed as a minor player, Charlie and Marvin went to jail while the others “disappeared”.
George has holed up for ten years in a former mining town in the hinterland near the border with New South Wales, fighting his alcoholism, befriending a local school teacher, when he gains word that out of the blue Charlie has been in town looking for him. The local police arrives, and detectives from Brisbane, when Charlie’s body is found strung up in town’s substation. Now George must return to Brisbane to oversee his friend’s cremation, and to piece together the last days of his life.
At night that darkness became an ominous orange glow in the sky. All of it was hidden now but, I knew what waited down there.
Brisbane. The Fallen City.
Or indeed Queensland itself. In many ways the city and the state were one and the same. And I had deserted both, long ago.
But then it was said that an alcoholic never really left the bottle and, in a similar way, maybe no one ever really left Queensland...
He finds himself wandering a city he no longer recognises and tries to contact the others, Jeremy, Marvin, Lindsay and May, to find out what happened to them…and to Charlie.
The police station was still there, but the brothel which had once existed across the road from it was not. And of the dozens of boarding houses and cheap hotels that had once lined the street, barely two or three remained, and it didn’t seem that even they could remain much longer. Jackhammers rattled death knells. The only real familiarity was the heat, and that was an old enemy, not an old friend. And without the refuge of alcohol, the heat was unbearable.
Winner of the Ned Kelly award for crime, author Andrew McGahan has produced a visceral novel and for me it was not an easy read (e-books are not my preferred medium), told in flashbacks and the present, underscored by the thoughts and insights of an alcoholic. Yet I was drawn in by the prose, the poetic descriptions of the hinterland, and of a city’s past and present.
This is Queensland laid bare, as told through the eyes of George Vernay, one-time features writer with a Brisbane daily, a bit-player in the corruption that held sway in the seventies and eighties. In the beginning he had befriended Charlie, who ran his parents’ restaurant and wanted a liquor licence instead of a “BYO’ – as a place where he and friends could drink outside the restricted licensing hours. Soon they would mingle with “people in the know” and form a small syndicate which included a Cabinet Minister Marvin, career politician Jeremy (knighted for his services to the State), Lindsay “the money man”, and in the background, Maybelline, a one-time activist against the government. With Charlie as the front-man the syndicate acquired more restaurants and had interests in clubs (gaming and prostitution). When the enquiry into the “Moonlight State” was aired George was called for evidence and dismissed as a minor player, Charlie and Marvin went to jail while the others “disappeared”.
George has holed up for ten years in a former mining town in the hinterland near the border with New South Wales, fighting his alcoholism, befriending a local school teacher, when he gains word that out of the blue Charlie has been in town looking for him. The local police arrives, and detectives from Brisbane, when Charlie’s body is found strung up in town’s substation. Now George must return to Brisbane to oversee his friend’s cremation, and to piece together the last days of his life.
At night that darkness became an ominous orange glow in the sky. All of it was hidden now but, I knew what waited down there.
Brisbane. The Fallen City.
Or indeed Queensland itself. In many ways the city and the state were one and the same. And I had deserted both, long ago.
But then it was said that an alcoholic never really left the bottle and, in a similar way, maybe no one ever really left Queensland...
He finds himself wandering a city he no longer recognises and tries to contact the others, Jeremy, Marvin, Lindsay and May, to find out what happened to them…and to Charlie.
The police station was still there, but the brothel which had once existed across the road from it was not. And of the dozens of boarding houses and cheap hotels that had once lined the street, barely two or three remained, and it didn’t seem that even they could remain much longer. Jackhammers rattled death knells. The only real familiarity was the heat, and that was an old enemy, not an old friend. And without the refuge of alcohol, the heat was unbearable.
Winner of the Ned Kelly award for crime, author Andrew McGahan has produced a visceral novel and for me it was not an easy read (e-books are not my preferred medium), told in flashbacks and the present, underscored by the thoughts and insights of an alcoholic. Yet I was drawn in by the prose, the poetic descriptions of the hinterland, and of a city’s past and present.
May 1, 2024
Drei Sterne für die guten Absichten
Formal ambitionierte Suchtbewältigung in Krimiform. Der Autor startete seine Karriere anscheinend als australisches Gegenstück zu Charles Bukowski und bekam für seinen Erstling einen Preis. Konnte oder wollte aber nicht dauernd auf dieser Welle surfen und wollte sich wohl mit diesem Genrestück neu erfinden.
In diesem Krimi um Korruption verzahnt AG die alte Glanzzeit eines abgestürzten Gesellschaftsreporters mit einem frischen Mord an seiner Zufluchtsstätte im tiefsten Hinterland.
Der Anfang mit der bizarren Elektrokution eines alten Kumpels im benachbarten Umspannwerk liest sich verheißungsvoll, die Spurensuche im Sumpf früherer Jahre alias Brisbane ebenso vielversprechend. Dabei wechseln sich neue Erkenntnisse, die auf alte Sünden zurück verweisen oder bislang verdrängtes wieder ins Bewusstsein befördern, miteinander ab. Dieses Verfahren, das der Autor viel zu lange durchhält, geht allerdings auf Kosten des Leseflusses.
Deshalb gerät die Lektüreerfahrung nach dem ersten Drittel so ermüdend, als ob man durch Morast waten oder sich über einen verregneten Acker quälen müsste. Natürlich kommt George mit allen alten Kumpels in Gespräch und spätestens am nächsten Morgen, bestätigt sich der Titel ein mal mehr. Auflösung und Showdown hat sogar allerlei Fans des Kult-Autors zu massiven Abzügen motiviert. Die Motivation erschien mir auch ziemlich überdehnt, , aber ich war zuletzt nur noch froh darüber, dass dem Autor die Puste ausgegangen ist.
Aber schöne Schilderungen von Brisbane und eine gelungene Einführung in die Geschichte von Queensland, bzw. das Selbstverständnis der Einwohner der rückständigsten Region Australiens.
Formal ambitionierte Suchtbewältigung in Krimiform. Der Autor startete seine Karriere anscheinend als australisches Gegenstück zu Charles Bukowski und bekam für seinen Erstling einen Preis. Konnte oder wollte aber nicht dauernd auf dieser Welle surfen und wollte sich wohl mit diesem Genrestück neu erfinden.
In diesem Krimi um Korruption verzahnt AG die alte Glanzzeit eines abgestürzten Gesellschaftsreporters mit einem frischen Mord an seiner Zufluchtsstätte im tiefsten Hinterland.
Der Anfang mit der bizarren Elektrokution eines alten Kumpels im benachbarten Umspannwerk liest sich verheißungsvoll, die Spurensuche im Sumpf früherer Jahre alias Brisbane ebenso vielversprechend. Dabei wechseln sich neue Erkenntnisse, die auf alte Sünden zurück verweisen oder bislang verdrängtes wieder ins Bewusstsein befördern, miteinander ab. Dieses Verfahren, das der Autor viel zu lange durchhält, geht allerdings auf Kosten des Leseflusses.
Deshalb gerät die Lektüreerfahrung nach dem ersten Drittel so ermüdend, als ob man durch Morast waten oder sich über einen verregneten Acker quälen müsste. Natürlich kommt George mit allen alten Kumpels in Gespräch und spätestens am nächsten Morgen, bestätigt sich der Titel ein mal mehr. Auflösung und Showdown hat sogar allerlei Fans des Kult-Autors zu massiven Abzügen motiviert. Die Motivation erschien mir auch ziemlich überdehnt, , aber ich war zuletzt nur noch froh darüber, dass dem Autor die Puste ausgegangen ist.
Aber schöne Schilderungen von Brisbane und eine gelungene Einführung in die Geschichte von Queensland, bzw. das Selbstverständnis der Einwohner der rückständigsten Region Australiens.
December 10, 2021
Last Drinks was the last McGahan book for me, meaning that I read all his others before it. Basically it's a detective novel. It feels a little unrefined compared to the brilliance of his subsequent work, but there are some really good sections.
What I liked: The internal perspective of a Queenslander who is rather critical of his own state.
What doesn't quite work: The long reflections about the old days, before the inquiry. Unfortunately this falls into the "telling not showing" category. I found it tedious at times and skipped ahead.
What I thought was odd: The idea that alcohol could ever be the drug of choice for the powerful and corrupt. As alcoholics May and George seem to sleep half the day. It's hardly credible this group could have been a sharp gang of crooks. I don't think a bunch of alcoholics could mastermind a bunch of illegal brothels and nightclubs. I also thought it very odd that in more than one passage the narrator uses the words "learning to drink", as though becoming an alcoholic was a respectable skill worth mastering.
And one more thing... I thought May was an interesting character. She's like an Aussie femme fatale who switches sides way too easily. She could easily have been painted as disloyal terror and I thought George was able to forgive her crimes a little too easily. I think her character could have been developed much further and she should have been introduced much earlier in the book.
McGahan fans should check it out, or folks looking for fiction about Brisbane. Other readers could probably safely give this a miss.
What I liked: The internal perspective of a Queenslander who is rather critical of his own state.
What doesn't quite work: The long reflections about the old days, before the inquiry. Unfortunately this falls into the "telling not showing" category. I found it tedious at times and skipped ahead.
What I thought was odd: The idea that alcohol could ever be the drug of choice for the powerful and corrupt. As alcoholics May and George seem to sleep half the day. It's hardly credible this group could have been a sharp gang of crooks. I don't think a bunch of alcoholics could mastermind a bunch of illegal brothels and nightclubs. I also thought it very odd that in more than one passage the narrator uses the words "learning to drink", as though becoming an alcoholic was a respectable skill worth mastering.
And one more thing... I thought May was an interesting character. She's like an Aussie femme fatale who switches sides way too easily. She could easily have been painted as disloyal terror and I thought George was able to forgive her crimes a little too easily. I think her character could have been developed much further and she should have been introduced much earlier in the book.
McGahan fans should check it out, or folks looking for fiction about Brisbane. Other readers could probably safely give this a miss.
January 5, 2018
For the first half or three quarters of this book I would give it 4 stars. The end, maybe 2. So I've averaged it out. Parts of this book are fascinating - although it is fiction there is enough truth in the stories of corruption and you can just imagine the times in Queensland (and elsewhere) where corruption ruled.
Initially I found the descriptions of the drinking and the reasons for drinking and friendships interesting as well, but then after they were repeated frequently it got a bit dull. Likewise with the elusive Maybellene - although so many of the characters seemed to have loved her and as it turned out destroyed their lives for her or with her, I felt that despite the repetition of her name, her physical description and her drinking it was hard to get a real feel of what she was like - and why so many moths were burnt in her flame.
I also agree with other reviews here - the protagonist George is such a wishy washy type character. Can he really have been involved and yet so naive? Why would anyone bother with him? And he must have been seriously bad at his chosen profession of journalism if he didn't see what was going on around him. However it did help in some ways for the story, as a narrator he seemed to be quite objective, if a bit dull.
Overall the book was not too bad. I read it in one day so I guess it can't have been that terrible!
Initially I found the descriptions of the drinking and the reasons for drinking and friendships interesting as well, but then after they were repeated frequently it got a bit dull. Likewise with the elusive Maybellene - although so many of the characters seemed to have loved her and as it turned out destroyed their lives for her or with her, I felt that despite the repetition of her name, her physical description and her drinking it was hard to get a real feel of what she was like - and why so many moths were burnt in her flame.
I also agree with other reviews here - the protagonist George is such a wishy washy type character. Can he really have been involved and yet so naive? Why would anyone bother with him? And he must have been seriously bad at his chosen profession of journalism if he didn't see what was going on around him. However it did help in some ways for the story, as a narrator he seemed to be quite objective, if a bit dull.
Overall the book was not too bad. I read it in one day so I guess it can't have been that terrible!
November 20, 2019
AG was a terrific writer - at the time one of the few Australian writers to place all his novels in a contemporary Australian setting. This story really takes you inside the chaos and corruption of 1980’s Brisbane. George is a great character - one you can loath or love, or both. While this particular scenario is presumably fiction, much of the structure and environment where the story is set is in fact true of the time. Published in 2000, it’s so easy to forget almost 20 years later why Queensland was so different back then. Why was there never an Underbelly style series about QLD?
August 9, 2020
One of the most harrowing, yet compelling books I've ever read. A deep dive into the seedy underbelly of 1980s Queensland - prohibition, corruption and violence, soaked in booze and stained a deep, dark shade of nicotine yellow. You'll need to attend an AA meeting after this one!
March 19, 2021
A great example of a novel being driven by a character burdened by minimal character. In George Verney, disgraced journalist and former (forgettable) hanger-on of a few slippery and shady characters that constituted the outer circle of the corrupt elite governing Queensland in the crooked Bjelke-Petersen era.
In framing the story around reformed alcoholic Verney, McGahan constructs a nailbiter of a story that unravels from both directions. Moving backwards and forwards through time and memory - and hazy recollections at that - Verney is drawn back into the world that he fled as it crumbled a decade earlier with the Fitzgerald Inquiry. If you're too young to remember that event, the Inquiry's official title was "the Commission of Inquiry into Possible Illegal Activities and Associated Police Misconduct", which will give you a sense as to what Verney was fleeing.
An indictment on Queensland, this is a dark and bitter book. Dominated by the cloudy memories of nights of long drinking, the stench of booze, vomit and piss, it is quite hard going. George is a loser used by losers who were themselves used by the losers who exploited the losers that constituted the Queensland public for thirty years. Somewhere in that, the winners adjusted and remain in place at the top of the whole grubby pile.
All of which makes George's struggles all the more depressing. As you'd expect in a book frequented by alcoholics, there's a lot of repetition and denial here. This does help establish his character and is a critical element to driving the plot along.
Ultimately, this is a political thriller/ murder mystery with an indecisive and weak man at the centre of the narrative, even though he is very much on the puzzle's outer periphery. It is this aspect that I respect most of the book. Most authors would be tempted to give George more substance or vigour, but to my mind, it would corrupt one of the very points of the book: that the weak are easily corrupted.
⭐ ⭐ ⭐ 1/2
In framing the story around reformed alcoholic Verney, McGahan constructs a nailbiter of a story that unravels from both directions. Moving backwards and forwards through time and memory - and hazy recollections at that - Verney is drawn back into the world that he fled as it crumbled a decade earlier with the Fitzgerald Inquiry. If you're too young to remember that event, the Inquiry's official title was "the Commission of Inquiry into Possible Illegal Activities and Associated Police Misconduct", which will give you a sense as to what Verney was fleeing.
An indictment on Queensland, this is a dark and bitter book. Dominated by the cloudy memories of nights of long drinking, the stench of booze, vomit and piss, it is quite hard going. George is a loser used by losers who were themselves used by the losers who exploited the losers that constituted the Queensland public for thirty years. Somewhere in that, the winners adjusted and remain in place at the top of the whole grubby pile.
All of which makes George's struggles all the more depressing. As you'd expect in a book frequented by alcoholics, there's a lot of repetition and denial here. This does help establish his character and is a critical element to driving the plot along.
Ultimately, this is a political thriller/ murder mystery with an indecisive and weak man at the centre of the narrative, even though he is very much on the puzzle's outer periphery. It is this aspect that I respect most of the book. Most authors would be tempted to give George more substance or vigour, but to my mind, it would corrupt one of the very points of the book: that the weak are easily corrupted.
⭐ ⭐ ⭐ 1/2
January 6, 2011
George Verney is a journalist and alcoholic, who had not had a drink in the 10 years since he fled Brisbane for Highgrove at the end of Fitzgerald Enquiry, where life was safe until things happened that brought the past back to haunt him. It talks about the corruption that was going on in Brisbane and how all the plans came together over a few drinks. There was George’s best friend Charles, a restaurateur who wanted a liquor licence that was hard to get at the time, there was Lindsay the money man and the one with the contacts in high places, McNaulty, the politician, the business man and of the course the police and May, the girl who everyone loved.
It is a fiction story based around this time and I would think some of the events, if not the people, were real. It brought back some memories for me. I found the story compelling to listen to, I needed to hear the whole story – I wish more had been said in the end though as to what happened to George, but I guess that is left to us to decided.
It is a fiction story based around this time and I would think some of the events, if not the people, were real. It brought back some memories for me. I found the story compelling to listen to, I needed to hear the whole story – I wish more had been said in the end though as to what happened to George, but I guess that is left to us to decided.
January 19, 2010
This is a good story. I really enjoyed the way McGahan made Brisbane a main character. The Alcohol that threads everything together is brutal and honest. The plot unfolds well and the the characters are genuine and deftly handled. That is all except the main character George... and that is my only criticism of this book. George is such a limp piece of nothing. A ghost of a man with no opinion, no clue, no charm, no whit and no hope.
McGhan seems to have made him this way very deliberately. But it is irritating. Not so much that it ruined the book, but it would have been so much better if there was SOMETHING about George to latch on to. Maybe his complete lack of personality and presence is a device to put the reader in the book? I'm not sure...
But by George! What a waste of space! I was really hoping Stanley was going to shoot him as well.
McGhan seems to have made him this way very deliberately. But it is irritating. Not so much that it ruined the book, but it would have been so much better if there was SOMETHING about George to latch on to. Maybe his complete lack of personality and presence is a device to put the reader in the book? I'm not sure...
But by George! What a waste of space! I was really hoping Stanley was going to shoot him as well.
June 5, 2014
What a gripping read, I love the honest and clear style of McGahan's writing. This semi-fictional work is really two stories in one set around the backdrop of Queensland's Fitzgerald enquiry past and present and George's past and present seediness. I love how McGahan's writing has matured in this book from Praise and 1988 and he is now covering all the meaty argument starter issues of Australian politics, corruption, crime, sex, social class and alcohol and how all of these things impact on our social conscience.
The only criticism was this could have had some heavier editing, some parts were repetitive and long winded although perhaps this was a deliberate ploy to mirror the alcoholic minds of the protagonists. I loved how this book looped at the end and how the story threads were drawn together.
The only criticism was this could have had some heavier editing, some parts were repetitive and long winded although perhaps this was a deliberate ploy to mirror the alcoholic minds of the protagonists. I loved how this book looped at the end and how the story threads were drawn together.
June 23, 2020
Last drinks is about drinking. Alcohol.
The background story is a washed up hopeless journalist who gets caught up in a murder mystery. The background to the murders is corrupt Queensland politics from a decade earlier in which the journalist, a marginal figure, was damaged.
The background stories are more interesting than the main story about alcoholism. They did bring some meaning to the corruption issue. The murder mystery moved a bit slowly. The new characters tacked on late in the book seemed the result of a rewrite. The heavy reliance on agonising over alcohol began to grate. It seemed that the author was using the book to try to purge a drinking problem of his own.
The book is too long. Last drinks should have been called earlier.
The background story is a washed up hopeless journalist who gets caught up in a murder mystery. The background to the murders is corrupt Queensland politics from a decade earlier in which the journalist, a marginal figure, was damaged.
The background stories are more interesting than the main story about alcoholism. They did bring some meaning to the corruption issue. The murder mystery moved a bit slowly. The new characters tacked on late in the book seemed the result of a rewrite. The heavy reliance on agonising over alcohol began to grate. It seemed that the author was using the book to try to purge a drinking problem of his own.
The book is too long. Last drinks should have been called earlier.
July 5, 2022
In so many ways, the perfect novel. The setting is closely modelled on Queensland after the Fitzgerald Inquiry, with flashbacks to before. McGahan's social and political insights had me reading many sections twice; some sections I read twice simply because they were so beautifully written. The characters aren't the most likeable, but that is absolutely not the point. They are human, flawed and tragic, and the story is one of humanity - greed, lust, power mongering, friendship, naivete, cowardice and deceit. My thought upon finishing: what a loss to the literary world was Andrew McGahan, but what gifts he left behind.
April 16, 2025
This devastating narrative was concocted through inspiration of real events that happened in the apparently lawless state of Queensland across the 70s and 80s and wow does it make for a compelling story with its duel timeline.
In the first timeline, we're in the present. Main character George finds out that a friend from the old days in Queensland has been killed. No doubt about it. The manner in which he was found shows murder. Only one problem is that the police think it was initially him.
Through a series of flashbacks, we find out that George and his friend along with about three or four others were basically some kind of bootleggers who were in cahoots with a corrupt government who ended up being discovered and ousted and some of them went to jail over it. What's interesting is that at no point does this make George an unlikable character. Dangerously naive, perhaps. Outright young and stupid, definitely, but who hasn't been there? It's an interesting indictment of the people you hang around when you're young and the kind of influence power has even on those who would otherwise be fairly benign.
George isn't one of the ones who went to jail. But he couldn't hold onto his old life either with his name being smeared around the papers. Instead, he goes to hideaway in a small town on the border of Queensland and New South Wales. There, he starts a new life. There, his friend is murdered.
This is a story of what happens when your past catches up to you. George finds every single one of the people who were involved in those old times. Some of them are thriving. Most are not. But no two stories are the same. This book is fantastic because it doesn't spoon feed you answers but it also gives you more than enough to form a cohesive story and leave with your own opinions in tact. It's also a tragedy, so prepare for that one.
In the first timeline, we're in the present. Main character George finds out that a friend from the old days in Queensland has been killed. No doubt about it. The manner in which he was found shows murder. Only one problem is that the police think it was initially him.
Through a series of flashbacks, we find out that George and his friend along with about three or four others were basically some kind of bootleggers who were in cahoots with a corrupt government who ended up being discovered and ousted and some of them went to jail over it. What's interesting is that at no point does this make George an unlikable character. Dangerously naive, perhaps. Outright young and stupid, definitely, but who hasn't been there? It's an interesting indictment of the people you hang around when you're young and the kind of influence power has even on those who would otherwise be fairly benign.
George isn't one of the ones who went to jail. But he couldn't hold onto his old life either with his name being smeared around the papers. Instead, he goes to hideaway in a small town on the border of Queensland and New South Wales. There, he starts a new life. There, his friend is murdered.
This is a story of what happens when your past catches up to you. George finds every single one of the people who were involved in those old times. Some of them are thriving. Most are not. But no two stories are the same. This book is fantastic because it doesn't spoon feed you answers but it also gives you more than enough to form a cohesive story and leave with your own opinions in tact. It's also a tragedy, so prepare for that one.
May 7, 2018
We remember only too well the decades of corruption and nepotism that was the Australian state of Queensland under the premiership of Sir Johannes Bjelke-Petersen, whose party ruled despite consistently receiving the smallest number of votes, achieving this through a gerrymander that resulted in rural votes having a greater value than those cast in the city. This novel is set 10 years after the fall of his government, due to an inquiry which resulted in government members and the police commissioner going to gaol, but sadly not the premier himself due to a hung jury.
It is a novel that winds us through one man's fall into corruption, the gaoling of his closest friend and the fallout ten years on when that friend, having served his time, is brutally murdered.
Lots of twists and turns had me on the edge of my seat at times, he really knows how to ramp up the tension. A great read for those interested in politics or anyone who just loves a good criminal mystery.
It is a novel that winds us through one man's fall into corruption, the gaoling of his closest friend and the fallout ten years on when that friend, having served his time, is brutally murdered.
Lots of twists and turns had me on the edge of my seat at times, he really knows how to ramp up the tension. A great read for those interested in politics or anyone who just loves a good criminal mystery.
May 16, 2019
As a murder mystery, good but not extraordinary. Some mini-lectures about Joh era corruption are nicely worked in.
The protagonist was no saint - an alcoholic, wallowing on the inside of the corruption.
The writing style is a little wordy, and tries to capture the feel of the setting but doesn't come close to Jane Harper. It jumps between two time periods, ten years apart - that's handled well and is necessary for the story.
After a slow start, I enjoyed the style, and will be going back for more of his books. I live in Brisbane, and knowing the places and the historical events brought it to life.
The protagonist was no saint - an alcoholic, wallowing on the inside of the corruption.
The writing style is a little wordy, and tries to capture the feel of the setting but doesn't come close to Jane Harper. It jumps between two time periods, ten years apart - that's handled well and is necessary for the story.
After a slow start, I enjoyed the style, and will be going back for more of his books. I live in Brisbane, and knowing the places and the historical events brought it to life.
December 21, 2020
4.5*
Generally really liked this. Always been a fan of McGahan's writing, he's able to convey a real depth to the emotions of the story that he's telling. Some parts had me desperately sad, especially descriptions of Charlie's funeral. It was really interesting hearing about Brisbane pre-inquiry, as well as the recognition of what it became post.
Only thing that stops this from being a perfect book is some liberal cynicism about Queensland. There are some good insights here and there, but I felt the final tone of, "Queensland is fucked and always will be" a little lazy, even if it was expressing an honest sentiment.
Generally really liked this. Always been a fan of McGahan's writing, he's able to convey a real depth to the emotions of the story that he's telling. Some parts had me desperately sad, especially descriptions of Charlie's funeral. It was really interesting hearing about Brisbane pre-inquiry, as well as the recognition of what it became post.
Only thing that stops this from being a perfect book is some liberal cynicism about Queensland. There are some good insights here and there, but I felt the final tone of, "Queensland is fucked and always will be" a little lazy, even if it was expressing an honest sentiment.
September 28, 2017
I really enjoyed the first 3/4 of the book but was disappointed in the ending. I always find that crime fiction (tv, books) hold me for a while and lose me when they get too convoluted & turn to nonsense.
This is no fault of Andrew McGahan who writes a great book, it's just that I get a bit annoyed by this kind of thing.
If you love crime I think you'll love it, especially if you are from Brisbane. I did really enjoy the setting being my own city.
This is no fault of Andrew McGahan who writes a great book, it's just that I get a bit annoyed by this kind of thing.
If you love crime I think you'll love it, especially if you are from Brisbane. I did really enjoy the setting being my own city.
April 10, 2020
I loved this so much.
Andrew McGahan was easily the best writer to have ever emerged from Brisbane and Queensland.
This was his foray into crime fiction and he nailed it.
The story is set in the aftermath of the Fitzgerald Inquiry, that grand expose of the rotten heart of Queensland that brought down the government and establishment of the day. George the main character was a small player in the mess and now lives in self imposed exile in a small country town.
Then his past shows up.
Andrew McGahan was easily the best writer to have ever emerged from Brisbane and Queensland.
This was his foray into crime fiction and he nailed it.
The story is set in the aftermath of the Fitzgerald Inquiry, that grand expose of the rotten heart of Queensland that brought down the government and establishment of the day. George the main character was a small player in the mess and now lives in self imposed exile in a small country town.
Then his past shows up.
December 14, 2023
McGahan uses fiction to highlight the excesses of the (normalised) corruption during the time of the Bjelke Petersen government in Queensland, Australia. It makes the point that it was the minor corruption that tripped up the bigger system of corporate corruption, where the real money was. An accessible and fascinating addition to the pantheon of literature about this period, with an appropriately dark ending.
February 28, 2021
A cloying, claustrophobic novel of alcoholism set against the backcloth of the corrupt Queensland government of the 1970/1980s. Its hard to comprehend the level of corruption that occurred in a so called democratic country. Frightening. The novel explores the impact on persons caught up in the corruption, and the impact is not pretty.
Can I say a sobering read!
Can I say a sobering read!
September 12, 2018
It wasn't bad, wasn't great either. To me there was too much backstory sometimes, wished the story would move on a bit more. Once it did, it was good. I did like the writing style, though there are quite a few typos. At one stage there was even the wrong name used hmm.
March 17, 2019
4.5 ⭐️
He writes so beautifully; saddened to hear of his passing but I look forward to reading more of his works. This was not my typical storyline that I would enjoy, but it pulled me deep into the tale told in these pages!
He writes so beautifully; saddened to hear of his passing but I look forward to reading more of his works. This was not my typical storyline that I would enjoy, but it pulled me deep into the tale told in these pages!
February 25, 2020
A landmark book about 1970s/80s Queensland history and the Fitzgerald inquiry that blew the lid on Queensland's fetid relationship with crime and corruption. Very glad I finally got round to reading it.
October 19, 2020
Gave this an extra star because it’s set in my home town and era, although I was a bit young to really know what was happening at the time. Really well written, with an unfolding murder mystery and credible characters that kept me guessing till the end.
May 30, 2021
A great exposé of the corrupt, venal world of Queensland politics in the 70s and 80s.
Unfortunately for me the book was let down by a weak and unsympathetic central character. I just find alcoholic characters a bit boring.
Unfortunately for me the book was let down by a weak and unsympathetic central character. I just find alcoholic characters a bit boring.
February 27, 2023
If you like any of andrew mcgahans other works, last drinks will be nothing short of a spectacular read. If you’ve never read any of andrew mcgahans works, last drinks will be nothing short of a spectacular read. Andrew mcgahan kills it
August 26, 2018
A solid criminal drama set to the backdrop of a very Australian political landscape.
March 29, 2019
4.5 So Brisbane you can pretty much smell the fetid, corrupt humidity in every page.
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