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Alone
A young woman's obsession for her lesbian lover gradually becomes anguish as she finds herself more and more alone
112 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1980
3 people are currently reading
142 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 18 of 18 reviews
October 16, 2024
ummm Angsty!!!! memento mori babe!
November 12, 2020
There’s a lot of emotional weight at play in this short novel. There’s passages of dense poetic language, there’s despair there’s hopelessness and a lot of angst and feeling. When it succeeds one grapples with the struggle of same-sex love in disparaging times. Feeling like you’ve found something of a truth but accepting it is a secret, and as something fleeting and uncertain.
But there’s also an element of this that feels a bit like the angsty writing of a teenager. Never quite poor, or too sentimental, but haphazard and doubling over itself.
It’s so blindingly emotional at times that it’s hard to follow. The narrative always slipping through your fingers as you try and grab a hold of it.
I’m also one who really struggles when an author attempts to capture a particular accent by phonetically changing the spelling of dialogue to capture particular intonations. I find it frustrating as my mind is distracted with trying to parse together the sentences instead of embodying the dialogue portrayed.
Ultimately this lead to a more clumsy and challenging read than I’d hoped for. I’m not sure if maybe these weakness have been worked out in future writings by this author, but for me this one fell short and left me wanting.
But there’s also an element of this that feels a bit like the angsty writing of a teenager. Never quite poor, or too sentimental, but haphazard and doubling over itself.
It’s so blindingly emotional at times that it’s hard to follow. The narrative always slipping through your fingers as you try and grab a hold of it.
I’m also one who really struggles when an author attempts to capture a particular accent by phonetically changing the spelling of dialogue to capture particular intonations. I find it frustrating as my mind is distracted with trying to parse together the sentences instead of embodying the dialogue portrayed.
Ultimately this lead to a more clumsy and challenging read than I’d hoped for. I’m not sure if maybe these weakness have been worked out in future writings by this author, but for me this one fell short and left me wanting.
Read
November 11, 2025what the fuck did i just read.
can't decide if it was a work genius that was an author aware of how painful it is to read earnestly serious and terrible writing from an 18 yr old or if it was terrible and she just writes that bad. was it meant to be the fictional novel? or am I reading into this too much trying to find a way to like the writing hahaha
either way it was a tough read and jumped all over the show in terms of content and none of it ever resolved or felt fully fleshed out in the space of such a short book
can't decide if it was a work genius that was an author aware of how painful it is to read earnestly serious and terrible writing from an 18 yr old or if it was terrible and she just writes that bad. was it meant to be the fictional novel? or am I reading into this too much trying to find a way to like the writing hahaha
either way it was a tough read and jumped all over the show in terms of content and none of it ever resolved or felt fully fleshed out in the space of such a short book
October 16, 2016
Dark and haunting this book riddled with poetry and quoted prose is spoken via our protagonist - Shirley a woman living in the city of Melbourne in 1959. The tale is told over the day (and recalls past memories triggered) which happens to fall on her 18th birthday and traverses the city, both in real and imagined life. A great novella I wished I had heard about years ago and a real shame its out of print.
July 15, 2015
I can't find my copy but I identified with this girl; at the same time her environs reminded me of Dostoyevsky's Petersburg, only in inner-city Australia: students in rundown accommodation, the out-of-work and street people. Made an impression. I hope I haven't lost mine; there isn't even a cover image here...
July 22, 2025
This fully envelopes you in the setting of the story. Feeling the warmth of the sun the textures of the surroundings. The writing is beautiful but at times needs extra thought to follow. I don’t have the words to accurately describe how this felt to read but it was touching and truly its own experience.
Would definitely recommend if you like a book that is character and atmosphere driven. A melancholic story mixed with heavy topics. Poetic writing that describes every little detail down to light reflections, the hair on an arm and the breath of a lover.
I think with a re red of this I’ll pick up a lot more from the writing.
Would definitely recommend if you like a book that is character and atmosphere driven. A melancholic story mixed with heavy topics. Poetic writing that describes every little detail down to light reflections, the hair on an arm and the breath of a lover.
I think with a re red of this I’ll pick up a lot more from the writing.
January 27, 2025
When I found the rhythm in the text I was swept up in the poetry and lyrical nature. However, it took me half the book to find that rhythm, and just as soon I'd lost it again.
I found it hard to translate the dialogue, written phonetically, and spent most of the booking re-reading the dialogue to translate what was being said.
The angst and obsession felt out of place until I was reminded it is Shirley's 18th birthday and who wasn't a ball of love-lorn obsession at that age. I think I would have enjoyed the book much more if I listened to it as an audio book.
I found it hard to translate the dialogue, written phonetically, and spent most of the booking re-reading the dialogue to translate what was being said.
The angst and obsession felt out of place until I was reminded it is Shirley's 18th birthday and who wasn't a ball of love-lorn obsession at that age. I think I would have enjoyed the book much more if I listened to it as an audio book.
Read
August 5, 2018That was a lot.
It was beautifully unsettling and gut-twisting in a way that reminded me too well of Sylvia Plath and Emily Dickinson.
Though part of me wonders if Farmer was a member of the Queer community, or whether she decided to write this story for a different reason. Either way, very brutal and exhausting but masterfully done.
The language was a hurdle I had to jump over but apart from the, the pace was mystical and almost drug-like.
It was beautifully unsettling and gut-twisting in a way that reminded me too well of Sylvia Plath and Emily Dickinson.
Though part of me wonders if Farmer was a member of the Queer community, or whether she decided to write this story for a different reason. Either way, very brutal and exhausting but masterfully done.
The language was a hurdle I had to jump over but apart from the, the pace was mystical and almost drug-like.
December 13, 2025
A powerful and very sad story of a young woman, living in a ramshackle boarding house in Melbourne in the 1950's and desperately trying to accept that her friend Catherine is not coming back and maybe doesn't love her after all. She is contemplating taking her own life creating very bleak scenes indeed.
abandoned
June 1, 2024This is a reissue of Farmer's debut novel, and I was expecting to admire it because I have liked her other books, but before long I realised that I simply did not want to read the suicidal thoughts of a woman with a broken heart.
I don't rate books I don't finish.
I don't rate books I don't finish.
August 5, 2018
yup, I hate men, and I wish I'd never read this book
July 25, 2024
Very beautiful prose. Very grim scenes. Incredibly sad 18 year old lesbian uni melb drop out in 1950s Melbourne offs herself after getting dumped. That’s tough.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 10, 2025
tumblr before tumblr
it’ll be fine in the end darls x
it’ll be fine in the end darls x
November 27, 2025
Read this hidden gem after Madeleine Gray recommended it in a KYD column. I inhaled it, letting Beverley's voice hit far too close to home re. unrequited yearning about another woman.
"I am bloody, bold and resolute. I am golden in the dark. This is my dying day."
"I want to just lie and watch how candlelight flickers and flows over my still room, over the watery glass of the mirror and the glowing pane. Candlelight gilds me. I unplait my long hair to spread it over my throat and shoulders."
"I hae been muffled insidiously by despair and silence, like a slow burial in snow. There is no contact to be made, no one to communicate with, no one to write for. The whole city is empty."
"License my roaving hands, and let them go,
Before, behind, between, above, below."
"A good poem is hard and clean like a bone, all that is left of so many days and nights."
"I love you. Where are you? Aren't you coming? You have to come. You do still love me. Still love me. Perhaps it is not too late.
Et O ces voix d'enfants chantant.
Come here"
"'Whatcher nime?
Shirley? Rosalie. The coalquay whore. Sliding, long ships waver in frothed pools, their white names scribbling, SUEZ MARU, THEMISTOKLES, EASTERN STAR. The moon is high. White, wet looping moons sink and brim, smack the gaunt wharf."
"Sleepless, I wrote Night. I was the whore myself in Night, sure and skilful, disdainful, curtained with bright hair. The black ashes of Night still lie in my saucepan. I know it by heart. I'll never be a poet. Nor ever be a writer, nor have a child. Did she ever love me?"
"I am bloody, bold and resolute. I am golden in the dark. This is my dying day."
"I want to just lie and watch how candlelight flickers and flows over my still room, over the watery glass of the mirror and the glowing pane. Candlelight gilds me. I unplait my long hair to spread it over my throat and shoulders."
"I hae been muffled insidiously by despair and silence, like a slow burial in snow. There is no contact to be made, no one to communicate with, no one to write for. The whole city is empty."
"License my roaving hands, and let them go,
Before, behind, between, above, below."
"A good poem is hard and clean like a bone, all that is left of so many days and nights."
"I love you. Where are you? Aren't you coming? You have to come. You do still love me. Still love me. Perhaps it is not too late.
Et O ces voix d'enfants chantant.
Come here"
"'Whatcher nime?
Shirley? Rosalie. The coalquay whore. Sliding, long ships waver in frothed pools, their white names scribbling, SUEZ MARU, THEMISTOKLES, EASTERN STAR. The moon is high. White, wet looping moons sink and brim, smack the gaunt wharf."
"Sleepless, I wrote Night. I was the whore myself in Night, sure and skilful, disdainful, curtained with bright hair. The black ashes of Night still lie in my saucepan. I know it by heart. I'll never be a poet. Nor ever be a writer, nor have a child. Did she ever love me?"
October 20, 2024
Stumbled on this. Haunting lovely language.
January 31, 2025
This is just great and terribly sad.
A 1950s Australian lesbian author. I’m starting her short stories asap!
A 1950s Australian lesbian author. I’m starting her short stories asap!
April 9, 2017
2.5 stars
August 14, 2018
Not really my cup of tea, I found the writing to be too repetitive and tried too hard to be evocative.
I understand why some people might like it but Shirley irrked me to my core and putting her mental health issues aside, she is not a nice person and too obsessed with trying to rekindle a relationship that was obviously toxic for both parties.
I understand why some people might like it but Shirley irrked me to my core and putting her mental health issues aside, she is not a nice person and too obsessed with trying to rekindle a relationship that was obviously toxic for both parties.
Displaying 1 - 18 of 18 reviews