Join Salisbury Forth on twenty adrenaline-fuelled days as a courier of contraband in the alleyways of inner Melbourne, a city of rolling power outages, fuel rationing and curfews.
Life’s stressful, post-pandemic: a vaccine dispensed Australia-wide has caused mass infertility and people are scrambling for cures. This would be fine for the hormone business, except the new government has banned all remedies except prayer.
Now the pious gather under the streetlights at dusk and the Neighbourhood Values Brigades prowl for ‘transgressors’. Meanwhile, the out-of-town animal farms have started up a barbarous form of hormone production and the Animal Protection Vigilantes are planning their next raid.
For Salisbury it’s not all bad. Love is in the air, and the job is a joy—until someone starts distributing suss hormones stamped with the boss’s Cruelty-Free Assured logo. This bike courier turned accidental sleuth has to discover who’s trying to destroy the business before it all goes belly up…
I have really mixed feelings about this book. It took me ages to even find a copy to read, but I had heard promising things so I kept looking, and I really wanted to like it. And some of the things I'd heard did pan out. A trans non-binary bike-riding protagonist in a cool dystopic near-future--right up my alley! But there was a very sketchy conflation of gender-affirming hormones with mind-altering and addictive substances, and that didn't sit well with me. There was also a scene where , which really crossed a line. And there was a lot of animal rights stuff that, in combination with some glaring disregard of racial issues, felt a little too reminiscent of eco-fascism. (At one point the white enby narrator actually declared that enbies were, in this near-future Australian setting, the equivalent of Dalits/"untouchables" in India--as a white enby myself, please allow me to apologize for the narrator's and author's gall to so off-handedly appropriate that struggle.)
Thoroughly enjoyed this one. In the near future, the vaccination for a type of bird flu has gone wrong and most people are now infertile. The Government is now lead by an ultra right-wing, religious party which has banned any type of fertility drugs for being unnatural. They have also implemented many other draconian laws This has lead to an underground world of chemists and gangs dealing with all things now illegal. Set in inner Melbourne, the centre of the city has become an underground slum of bordellos, illegal bars and drug sellers. Narrated by Salisbury, who is a late 20s transgender bike courier working for one of the main fertility drug sellers. Salisbury has a small group of liberally thinking friends who have to be careful to protect their activities from the roving patrols of vigilantes and religious prayer groups. There's a lot of subtle digs at political parties and religious groups. It highlights the cruelty to animals for drugs testing or production of drugs, the power of women and the strength of transgender people.
Not being one for speculative fiction, this isn't a book that I would have sought out, even with its cross-genre aspects. However, THE COURIER'S NEW BICYCLE was being talked about a lot by my fellow Sisters in Crime and, I'm not completely opposed to the occasional foray outside my comfort zone, so all in all the recommendations seemed like a good enough reason to try it out.
It did take a little while to work out the style of the book. Westwood has developed a laid back, ironic, almost gentle sort of a style which initially doesn't quite seem to gel with many aspects of the story. It actually took a little while to grasp how important many of the sub-texts of this story are because of the style. Particularly, as this is not a book that has a happy outlook for our futures. It's profoundly disturbing to think about the lengths that people will go to in their pursuit of personal gratification - in this case post a pandemic that has rendered a large proportion of the population sterile making fertility treatment the new "must have". That "must have" is pursued ethically and unethically, despite the mindless dogma of the religious zealots in charge of government; despite the breathtaking cruelty to other species.
In this world Salisbury Forth, gender transgressive, courier of contraband hormones, is a protagonist with issues unique to this particular time and setting. An activist working to free animals from the cruelty hormone factory farms, Sal is also trying to find love, stay alive in a dangerous place, avoid the worst excesses of the religious oppression of the "other", and keep hearth and home safe. It's almost like Sal has set out to become the ultimate target - flying in the face of the rules and norms of gender, the keeping of certain pet animals, owning a bicycle, working as a courier of contraband hormones (the ethical kind), fighting the source of the unethical kind.
It was also rather surprising to find a bicycle almost a character in the book. In Westwood's future Melbourne a bicycle is a highly sought after article. Sal's love for, and reliance on that bicycle was a palpable and meaningful part of who Sal is.
There is a lot going on in THE COURIER'S NEW BICYCLE, and perhaps it was the slightly laid-back style, but in the early parts of the book I did struggle quite a lot to engage, and to keep up with the unexpectedness, the other-worldliness of the entire world that Westwood is building. As I got a handle on the style, and the breadth of the issues being covered revealed themselves, everything started to work a lot better. For readers who prefer crime / mystery fiction, there is a traditional mystery element to this book, but really, the main point is the view of future Melbourne, the building of an entire world in which human activities happen - life, love, partnership, hate, killing - the whole gamut. Twisted to suit the time and the place and particular circumstances. All of which built people and a place that were often fascinating, not always particularly likeable.
If absolutely nothing else was achieved by reading THE COURIER'S NEW BICYCLE (and that's not accurate), it's a book that certainly made me glad to be on the old woman side of life. As this book describes a future world that I'd want absolutely no part of, I was profoundly relieved to realise I'd be unlikely to live long enough to have to. Which says a lot about the experience of the book.
I'm conflicted over reviewing this book, as there was a lot to love about it, but overall it really didn't set my world on fire. I wanted to like it more than I did, but that may be more due to my tastes than any fault of the author.
The story is set in a dystopic future. I love 'verses like this that are connected closely to our own, but with some twist. It's why i love Mira grant's Newsflesh series. In Westwood's vision for the near future, a vaccine for a bird flu has caused widespread infertility. The instability arising from this has seen a rise in religious fundamentalism - and a black market in fertility drugs.
Sal - the courier of the title - delivers these drugs around Melbourne. The main plot involves a fight for turf amongst the hormone bootleggers.
There's a great sense of place which - as a Melburnian I particularly enjoyed. Overall the world building is interesting if a bit heavy on some repetitive exposition.
Sal is a 'transgressive' someone who's gender expression is clearly beyond the binary. One of my issues with the book is that we get told this all the time, but the actual exploration, or demonstration, or Sal's gender is rather thin.
The plot moves along quite well although I would've liked more of the sub-plot relating to Sal's involvement with an animal rights group which rescues animals from hormone farms (Sal only distributes synthetic hormones) which had some great tension in it.
It's worth a look if only because queer dystopic fiction like this is rare enough. I'd hope for a sequel though, so it did make an impression.
I got a copy of this science fiction novel set in Melbourne after hearing about it on Galactic Suburbia (I now have a "Galactic Suburbia" tag for books that fit into this category) and enjoyed it very much. Westwood envisions a dark, oppressive future, where a virus has drastically reduced fertility rates, and created a thriving black market in hormones. Salisbury Forth is a bicycle courier for one of the ethical hormone companies, and when dodgy hormones start turning up on the street purporting to be from her employer, she goes into detective mode.
It wasn't so much the mystery element of this story I enjoyed as the entire world Westwood has created, the character of Salisbury and her "family" she has created of those mostly on the outskirts of the narrow limits society now deems to be acceptable. A wonderfully enjoyable book.
The Courier's New Bicycle by Kim Westwood was a very interesting read. It is set in Melbourne, Australia in a near future where the Australian population has become almost entirely sterile as an unintended consequence of a hastily rolled out mass vaccination program for a new strain of avian flu. A new ultra nationalist/ultra conservative/ultra religious party called Nation First has used the crisis to get into power, and immediately denounced scientific infertility solutions as being the work of <insert bad supernatural entity of choice here>, with clean living and godliness being the only way to fertility.
The heightened awareness of fertility has led to an even stronger set of prejudices around gender identity. The protagonist, Salisbury Forth (Sal), identifies as androgynous - not the easiest path in this milieu. Sal works as a bicycle courier for an illegal fertility treatment distributor and is an animal rights activist. When someone starts distributing inferior knockoffs of the treatments under Sal's employers brand, mystery ensues.
The heightened gender politics in the novel were very confronting. While obviously exaggerated in this darker world, you can see the origins of the attitudes represented in today's society. I've always struggled to understand why people care so much how someone choses to live their lives when it is not harming anyone else, but if you have a relatively liberal circle of friends it is easy to forget how much prejudice still exists in broader society. I think Australians in particular will resonate with the future painted, because you can certainly identify those aspects of contemporary Australian political life that are being built upon to create the world of The Courier's New Bicycle.
Counterbalancing this dark setting is a beautifully rendered series of relationships that show the importance of the family you choose to form around you in life as opposed to the one you are born into. The examination of self in this context was very powerful, and one of the stronger elements of the book.
That's all a bit metaphysical though, so lets focus on the story for a moment. Sal-as-reluctant-detective investigates an acceptably interesting mystery and there is a good balance of action with mystery solving. Care is taken to ensure that all red herrings are explained. Sometimes the explanations felt a little forced, but you certainly weren't left wondering about any loose ends. All of the sometimes disparate elements of the story come together at the end.
The sense of place was also very strong in this book. My wife is from Melbourne originally, and as a result I've spent more time there in the last 10 years. I loved the description of the dystopian city and the images created of settings I know (especially some of the fancier parts of the southern parts of Melbourne that have fallen on hard times!). For those not familiar with Melbourne it will obviously have less impact, but for those that are it is a fantastic contributor to the reading experience.
The character of Sal was very sympathetic, and the story was certainly arranged such that future novels could be set in the same world. If any ever are, I'll be lining up to get my copy.
The Courier’s New Bicycle is Kim Westwood’s second novel and its nice and compact at 327 pages. Playing wonderfully to my own biases and beliefs, Westwood has taken some of my dark fears and made a scary reality of them.
The World
The world of The Courier’s New Bicycle is a near future Melbourne. Australia is in the midst of a fertility crises caused by a compromised H1N1 vaccine. The population is largely infertile and while several fertility companies sprang up to deal with the crisis, a swing in power to the religious right sees these companies outlawed. The resultant Australian cultural landscape is a dominionist’s wet dream.
With power In the grip of religious fanatics anything outside of very hetero normative ideals of gender are held in contempt. Hessian frocked prayer groups wander the streets laying on hands and Neighbourly Watch lurks like a synthesis between the Gestapo and a Christian version of the Mutaween.
Our Protagonist
The Courier’s New Bicycle features a “gender transgressive” protagonist, Salisbury Forth. Sal has achieved a comfortable( for Sal) gender identity that sits between male and female.
Sal is a courier for an ethical hormone supplier and is good at the job, genetically gifted with a body for it. Sal becomes a reluctant detective when unknown parties target the boss’ business. When Sal’s friend Albee is injected with kit laced with pesticides, the business war becomes personal.
Is it a dystopia?
I’m not sure. I find it an all too plausible reality, one that only requires a few changes to get to it from present day Australia. Westwood has done an excellent job of extending current circumstances - political, social, environmental and religious. She tweaks recognisable institutions and extrapolates current Australian culture with skill.
The conservative party( both religiously and politically) Nation First is eerily close to a combination of Family First and One Nation. The contempt in which “gender transgessives” are held is not too different from conservative values held by the majority of the Australian population – only in The Courier’s New Bicycle hatred of “The Other” is given the imprimatur of both state and religion.
On Gender
The novel has an androgynous protagonist and is at least in part an exploration of the life and experiences of ‘The Other’. Whether ‘The Other’ be the transgendered, the animal activist, the immigrant or the socially undesirable street racers.
Now I don’t know if it’s the fact that I have been fortunate enough to listen to quality gender discussions and that I am comfortable in my gender/sexuality, but I didn’t find that exploration at all uncomfortable or confronting.
The treatment of said characters by the over zealous religious society inflamed my internal sense of social justice, but the treatment itself is sadly all too close to what ‘The Other’ experience in the here and now. For a reader who has lived a very sheltered life their response will no doubt be different.
For me, I am just happy to have a cracking good story, whose protagonist and supporting characters are drawn from genderqueer and other diverse communities.
What impressed me.
There’s a tangibility to Westwood’s world building. I don’t know Melbourne all that well but it feels to me that she’s captured the essence of the city and then cloaked it in this oppressive tension. The spectre of Neighbourly Watch always in the background and the fact that Sal’s entire life is pretty much illegal.
Honestly The Courier’s New Bicycle is a great read, an Australian speculative fiction, novel with elements of crime drama thrown in. When people think speculative fiction is just shooting rockets at Jupiter or dog fights in space, press this into their hand.
A beautiful sketch of darkly shaded future that I hope never comes to pass.
I’d heard a lot about this book and how much people had enjoyed it, but not specifically what it was about, so I headed into the story of Salisbury Forth without a lot of background knowledge. I found myself in a post-pandemic Melbourne, where a side-effect of a vaccine – sterility – has led to an uprising of the overly and outwardly pious who have banned artificial hormones and labelled those who don’t fit into neat little packages as ‘transgressors’. Adding in rolling power outages and power rationing, and a thriving hormone black market – and those who’d like to destroy it for their own means – and we’re in a world balancing between the familiar and nightmarish.
I was particularly struck by the world building in this book. There’s a lot going on, with the story touching on animal rights, government control over medications, government surveillance, how different subcultures behave under different circumstances and an old fashioned mystery to solve, but most of the time those elements are balanced well and the pieces fit together nicely.
I was thinking that this is a story which works better if you have some knowledge of Melbourne, because it relies on the Melbourne we know today to work (it’s definitely not a story which would work in a Brisbane setting). I read it while I was in Melbourne, so I don’t know how much that influenced my reading of the story – especially as someone holidaying there rather than living there. After a couple of brief discussions at Continuum, I’ve been having a lot of thoughts about how known places work in fiction, so this was book definitely fed and continued those thoughts.
As well as place thoughts, I have thoughts about the medical aspects of the story. The entire story balanced on the vaccine which made people sterile. Most of our vaccination schedule in Australia happens in a child’s first 18 months, so as a parents of a young child, I hear a lot about vaccinations. And inevitably you hear from anti-vaccine people or people who are ‘concerned’ about vaccines (and want to spread that fear to other parents – usually mothers.) So, to have a government sponsored vaccine as the catalyst for the story left me with some heavy moments of ‘hmmm’ and wondering whether to let that impact my enjoyment of the story. Ultimately, I decided to file it in a ‘I don’t like that choice, but it doesn’t impact the overall story’ pile, but I am still thinking on it.
A world where artificial hormones are only available through secretive, illegal means downright terrified me, though. I admit to a complicated history with artificial hormones since they helped me get my son, but they also threatened my life at the same time. I was under the supervision of a highly trained and experienced doctor who had to see me 2-3 times a week to ensure that I was safe. I’m one of those people who just overreacts to artificial hormones, so I can’t imagine absolutely needing them (as many people do for many reasons) but not having that constant care to ensure they’re as safe as possible. (Though, I imagine there’s a lot of people around the world who are put in this situation for financial/organisational/systemic reasons. More things to think on.)
Despite all the deep thinking thoughts the book inspired, it didn’t read to me like a ‘thinking book’. It was a fast-moving adventure of a story with a pretty large cast of characters who (thankfully) were well defined and differentiated from each other. It provided one look at a possible future, while inviting us to look at where we are and what we’re doing at the present time. I thoroughly enjoyed it and I’m glad I was able to get my hands on it.
I'm really disappointed this book isn't better known (and more easily available - with secondhand paperback copies thin and expensive on the ground and the publisher only offering it as print on demand or Kindle.)
I found out about the story through a talk on Australian science fiction where a panelist discussed the basic premise and I thought it sounded amazing - and it certainly didn't disappoint. Australian SF writers need to be better known, and this one is important because it is set in Melbourne and undeniably Australian in its feel.
This isn't really a story about science fiction - as very few science/speculative fiction books are. It's about gender, fertility, animal rights, religious extremism, basic new romance, etc.
It's also about trying to be a good person in a corrupt world – where religion and morals are so completely divorced from one another.
I have to admit to expecting ahead of the plot because I thought I saw set-ups that weren’t carried through (for example, I thought Inez would be revealed as dealing with the enemy and something would happen to the cat. I mean, come on, when someone’s involved in a dark underworld and the author is waxing lyrical about how desperately important the main character’s pet is, you know the kitty’s going to get it.)
I also feel like the animal liberationist part was at some points a step too far - Westwood is already beating the drum for gender equality and making so many other righteous cautious points to then have to go into animal rights I was almost a bit "caused out."
The scariest type of SF for me is the stuff which is really only a few years ahead of where we are right now – making its warnings all the more vivid. Already this year there has been scandals involving surrogacy laws and Australians – and the return of faith-based hate crimes.
One of my favourite books of this genre is Atwood's "Handmaiden's Tale" and there's a lot reminiscent with the dystopian Melbourne of this book.
Totally deserving of its Tiptree shortlisting, this book does some pretty amazing things with gender - not least of which is to re-politicise the notion of androgyny as transgressive.
I also loved the world-building and the way the queer themes are absolutely central to the political and environmental upheavals that have happened in this near-future. Finally I loved the friendship networks surrounding Sal - for many of the characters, family might be crap, but it is replaced by a family of friends made up of all sexes and gender-types. It is the hope embedded in these relationships that makes this book surprisingly upbeat in the end.
If you dont live in Australia then you either need a lot of luck, have Aussie connections or go to quite a bit of effort to get a copy of this but if you do you will be very glad you did.
It makes no sense to me at all why this is not available at least as an ebook outside of Australia. I would say this is one of the most important and effective SF books in the last decade. It is a lot of fun, its accessible and it has plenty of fresh ideas.
A few small critisisms dropped it a star but this is an exceptional read.
This is a Sci-Fi set in Melbourne which I really loved. Set in post-pandemic period the main character is a bike courier delivering contraband. I loved the characters and the book flowed. The ending was a bit predictable.
Literary and globally politically aware but never preachy or stuffy. Kim has done a fantastic job in creating a near future world crime noir story that mixes gender politics, animal rights and violent intent. A great second novel.
The story is very depressing. We have mean christians, animal rights activists, boy racers, red light district violence, illegal growth hormone, flu pandemic aftermath, electric power crisis, and desperate people with power lurking within conspiracies.
The first thing I'll say about The Courier's New Bicycle, is that it isn't a book written for me, and probably isn't a book written for you, unless you are all of the following, in no particular order: a. a fan of conspiracy theories b. anti-vax / anti-science c. anti-establishment d. atheist e. well-versed about LGBTQI+
Nonetheless, I have managed to finish reading it, and will attempt a fair review.
This quasi-scifi romp is set in an alternate-reality near-future Melbourne, where a flu vaccine has caused most of the Australian population to become sterile, government in the country has been taken over by a totalitarian party of far-right religious zealots, and as a result, a gangster underworld has emerged dealing solely in banned fertility hormones, complete with a rampaging trade war between so-called ethical and other, less scrupulous hormone suppliers. We are rapidly acquainted with a cast of characters from all across the gender spectrum, including the protagonist and first-person narrator Sal, a courier for one such ethical supplier.
My main gripe was not with this particular combination of themes, which on the cover seemed interesting enough for me to pick the 300-page paperback up and take it home, but the unrelenting vehemence with which the author propels her views throughout the novel - the absolute lack of compromise means that to enjoy the book requires the reader to completely suspend all sense of realism. For someone like myself who has always carried a very much scientific background, this was what I struggled with most, every explanatory twist and turn setting off the little "no way that could ever happen" voice in my head. The political setting was similarly hard to swallow, given the ever more progressive nature of our actual society today. My disappointment was especially exacerbated on learning that the novel was apparently written in the heartland of Australian politics - my hometown Canberra! However, I can understand the necessity of this element in setting the scene for the hard luck, us-versus-the-world plotline. The gender aspect I felt was handled very well, as it would have been very easy for this to have completely overshadowed the rest of the book given the obvious prominence of the non-binary characters, who made up most of the major roles. The author manages to not just avoid this, but provides a glimpse of the kind of normality to the gender spectrum which the modern LGBTQI+ movement continues to fight for, without being too heavy-handed on the specifics such as pronouns and terminology.
Overall, as mentioned earlier, I can see how this book would appeal to its target audience, and you need only scroll up and down to see this evident, in the other reviews here on Goodreads.
Overall, the plot built slowly and satisfyingly, though it ended in a rush.
Dystopian, but not 100% depressing - there's an entrenched underworld that offers safety and community, and some of the environmental regs implemented by the fascist government, I was like "man, I wish." Uncomfortably prescient of COVID in some ways, though at least we didn't have mass slaughter of wild birds. The fertility/hormone issues are exactly what paranoid antivaxxers think the vax is currently doing, but with no evidence. I was surprised in a bad way by Sal saying that Albee "had a sex change at 21," but transition technology gets a more detail and less stupid later in the book.
I learned a lot of Australian slang. The main characters are mostly all white and the book doesn't go into racism at all, just homophobia, transphobia, and misogyny.
Theoretically I should have really enjoyed this: laced with themes and issues that are favourites of mine, set in a city I'm increasingly familiar with. But the clunky prose style lets it down, obvious when it should be understated, ramming things home when it should just let them breathe. Because of that, none of it really ever came to life for me, the wide range of characters seeming flat when they ought to have burst with colour.
2.5 stars. I struggled to get through this novel. If I find a book to be entertaining I will read it in a day or two. I read the first 50 pages which really didn't hold my interest so I put it down for a week then tried again. Just it wasn't for me
This was an unexpected pleasure to read, I am always pleased to find novels set in places I have lived and the author clearly knows Melbourn very well and uses the city as an efective character in the novel.
Our main courier is a bicycle courier in a dystopian Melbourn where fuel is gone, disease has wiped out a lot of the population and infertility is the major concern of most of the remaining population. Politically, the city (Country? never stated) is in the grip of a heavily religious prohibition of everything style governing body.
While the novel is enjoyable as a dystopian, speculative future fiction, the author clearly had several axes to grind in it and they are ground so heavily sparks fly:
The question of gender identity is a major part of the plot, the main character and of the society in general. I personally really liked the approach, infertility has been caused accidentally (I really wish it had not been via vaccine, that totally make me wince, but, well, plot-wise it made sense). As the hormones dry up peoples gender identity becomes more open to question and it is a good vehicle for examining gender questions.
Also, the question of factory farms and ethical treatment of animals is a major theme, I was interested in that as well. And of course examination of batshit-crazy religions and oppressive political structures, all quite well done and interesting. People with interest in these themes, or who are just plain interested in everything, are more likely to enjoy this story than people with no such interests.
In the Acknowledgements at the end the author clearly states that she does not consider this fantasy nor science-fiction I found that a little sad. My long history with science fiction and fantasy is based on my firm belief that they are the most suitable most effective ways of exploring the world around us. It seems a bit of a shame that the author who has done such a lovely job of using them just so does not see this.
Being an avid cyclist, a transwoman, having the name "Forth" and living in Melbourne, I really had to have this book. It turns out that Salisbury isn't trans per se. Ze's thoroughly genderqueer and possibly intersex though so ze's a gender diverse sharacter who's portrayed sympathetically and with whom I identified in a great many ways.
Kim Westwood's post-pandemic Melbourne is enormous fun to peer at, especially for someone who lives in that city. The novel isn't quite cyberpunk but it does the sort of close intimate details for which I've always loved authors like William Gibson and Neil Stephenson, so that along with the depiction of a city in decay makes the cyberpunk aesthetic very strong in the book.
I very much like the fact that gender diverse people (there's a transman as another of the characters) and same sex relationships are shown simply as people living theor lives, even while the fact of discrimination against them is not ignored.
So, I like the writing, I mostly like the characters and I like the sentiment behind the book. It's not a deep and complex plot but it's an entertaining romp and for the simple fact that it's brain candy that shows people like me and the city in which I live I like it a lot.
The Courier’s New Bicycle is a speculative fiction, set in a vaguely recognisable version of Melbourne. In the wake of a flu-pandemic and a vaccine which has rendered most of the world’s population infertile, an ultra-right-wing government has come to power, outlawing fertility treatments and surrogacy and marginalising sex and gender non-conformists.
In the underbelly of this repressed society, self-described ‘genderbent’ Salisbury is a bicycle courier, delivering contraband fertility treatments to a desperate market.
There is a little too much going on in The Courier’s New Bicycle. There are three plot strands, which are slightly difficult to follow and major revelations in the story lack dramatic impact due to a general sense of confusion about what is actually going on. In addition, the plot gets lost in the cloud of issues which the novel is attempting to address, including climate change; religion; sex and gender and animal rights.
Though the novel explores some interesting ideas, and the use of a transgendered protagonist is a daring and original move, The Courier’s New Bicycle doesn’t quite pack the punch that it seems to promise.
Imagine a dystopic future where the religious right have won out and strike terror into anyone who doesn't fit their idea of what's acceptable to God.
Against that backdrop throw Salisbury Forth, a gender-transgressive, who is a courier for an ethical illegal drug dealer. It seems someone has a vendetta against the drug dealer and Sal needs to solve the mystery or go down with the ship.
I had to push past the first twenty pages before I started to get into it. Once I did, I could see it's a similar narrative style to fantasy writer Patrick Rothfuss, whom I love. For an Australian fantasy, it's uncharacteristically mature in its spellbinding story and it wraps up all the threads and delivers a neatly packaged story.
I can see the novel appealing to three groups of people: transgendered readers, Melburnians and people who love quality Australian fantasy.
A novel set in a dystopian theocratic future Melbourne. Throw in some gender politics, a little action and post pandemic infertility you have the makings of an intriguing tale. For the most part the story moves along at a nice clip but the societal changes and some of characters nagged at my suspension of disbelief. The theocracy is not quite plausible for this close to current day Australia. The baddies are almost caricatures and the ethical hormone/drug dealers seem too good to be true - like the trope of the whore with the heart of gold.
That said, I do love a good dystopian fantasy and this is pretty good. I liked the world building in this novel even though I think the foundations are a little shaky. I found the discussion of gender refreshing and Sal's gender ambiguity well handled.
There's much to like in The Courier's New Bicycle (although some may find the first person present POV challenging at times). Westwood has created a dark, dystopian society with a well realised underworld populated by a mix of those who don't fit in society for many reasons and Salisbury is an engaging protagonist. She walks a difficult path due to her gender identity but that is only part of the story and there's not a whiff of stereotyping anywhere.
I can see why The Courier's New Bicycle has won awards, notably the winner of the 2011 Aurealis Award for Best Science Fiction Novel.
I enjoyed this book greatly, for Ms Westwood's solid writing, her well-imagined dystopian near-future Melbourne and her use of trans* and genderqueer characters. However, as a mystery, it is a touch too predictable with a few too many coincidences. Many readers, like myself, will thoroughly enjoy it despite this, but mystery-lovers should be warned!
Tells a reasonable story, but the timescale for beliefs to have changed is just not credible. Really hung up on this gender-bender, lesbian thing -- but with no logical foundation within the work. Disappointed greatly. The reader is forced to suspend belief too often, without any benefit. Should be reworked; should not have passed through editing in such a state.