From returning to Ethiopia to find it wasn’t as her memory had left it, to the Australian Army and Bible school, and culminating in an 800-kilometre trek through the Camino, Alie Benge writes of searching and longing for a sense of place – whatever that may be.
'If home is love, can you have a home and yet be lonely? If you’re lonely, are you in some way away from home?'
These nineteen stories are a pilgrimage: a journey of escaping the cycle of displacement, the constant burden of choice, navigating relationships and love, and coming to terms with separation. Benge unravels the elusive idea of belonging in a deeply nomadic account of what it means to find your way home.
'Ithaca is a series of meditations on the big quests in our lives. Alie Benge’s unquavering voice guides us through her discoveries with a singular and compelling perspective.' —Rose Lu, author of All Who Live on Islands
When you open a new book and begin reading, if it is a book you'll read, and finish and have enjoyed, there's always a moment where you can relax because you're confident of the storyteller and ready to take the journey with them. I always think of it quite visually as sinking into a soft, overstuffed armchair. By the 3rd paragraph of Benge's first essay, I'm settled in my chair with a cup of hot tea. I'm ready to be told a story.
From the first pages of the first essay, you know you're in the hands of a master storyteller. There is imagery planted here and there, similar to the feeling of those Starburst lollies with the liquid centres. Unexpected little bombs of pleasure.
There's really interesting stuff in here about her time living in Ethiopia, and the theme of belong. For me it's her writing about her relationship with her sister Jo where Alie really shines, and I found myself wanting to read more about the bad decisions each of them makes – about travelling, or following horrible boys to London. I want Alie to write a Marian Keyes-type novel except it's about her sister, and her dad and her mum. Really I just want to read more from Alie, whichever direction she goes in. This book of beautiful essays feels like a necessary step on the road to the next one, and I can't wait for that one too.
A beautiful essay collection from Alie's life so far, exploring her experiences of love, belonging, faith, loneliness, being human. I found so many of my own thoughts written right there on the page - better than I could have ever expressed them.
I came across Alie’s essays on love on The Spinoff a few years ago at a time in my life I could really relate, another heartbreak; longing, and questioning what was so wrong with me. I was excited when I found out Ithaca was being published.
Her stories in this collection do not disappoint, ngā mihi nui ki a koe a Alie for again writing with so much vulnerability and saying the thoughts and feelings that I couldn’t possibly articulate.
Enjoyable, thoughtful, sophisticated, and moody - as in mood-rich rather than grouchy. She is a great writer, and deeply honest.
I know little of the personal essay genre but love it more now. Highlights are the titular essay "Ithaca", and "Shitfight" on her time serving in the defence force. Also really loved the one on "Little Women". The effect of the search for home throughout the book is at once unsettling and poignant, identifiable, masterful.
The book better rewards dipping in and out, because the effect of personal reflection in concentration veers towards Alvy Singer - frenetic and doubtful, but still sincere, even artistic: "It reminds me of that old joke- you know, a guy walks into a psychiatrist's office and says, hey doc, my brother's crazy! He thinks he's a chicken. Then the doc says, why don't you turn him in? Then the guy says, I would but I need the eggs. I guess that's how I feel about relationships. They're totally crazy, irrational, and absurd, but we keep going through it because we need the eggs." We need the eggs, and Benge provides an omelette.
I wish all my experiences, good and bad, could be as beautifully redeemed through Benge's expression has hers have been here.
Reading these essays in Wellington, where Alie spent a part of her adult life trying to make this city her home, and trying to do the same for myself now, is drawing all those comparison point between our shared experiences. I like to think she too walked in the Welli harbor and looked at the sunny Oriental Bay across, wondering if she could ever feel at home away from the ones she loves most. At least we have each other, and you can always find solace in remembering there are other people thinking the way you do. This collection also contains some of the most soul-shattering sentences I've read about love, motherhood, loneliness and finding what Home is to you. (and I'm in love with the art cover)
I recently met Alie, so this isn't an unbiased review, but it's true to say I've thought about this book every day since reading it a few weeks ago. These world-class essays cover ideas about home, love, identity, touch, and loss. Alie has led an extraordinary life, but even if she hadn't spent her childhood in Ethiopia, joined the Australian army, gone to Bible College, walked the Camino or built a tiny house, her crystal prose would still make beautiful reading. Alie takes the raw material of life and spins it into something magical.
Much of what I read will stay with me because the structure of many of the sentences are wonderful and d the author has a life worth telling about. The structure was chaotic and so struggled with that at first but once I let it go, the repetition didn’t matter. I appreciate she wanted to write about the new partner, and I loved the lead up on discovering how to date (and touch) but the last part on travel seemed a bit self-indulgent. It think she could have ended before this.
Enjoyable and easy to read. I definitely preferred the longer more narrative autobiographical essays over the more speculative philosophical ones. I like the dialogue, humour and characters in them and felt they were more engaging. I particularly enjoyed the first essay about the author’s return to Ethiopia and reflections on the impact of being a MK/ third culture kid. Fascinating.
A beautifully written collection of post modern essays. Benge delicately weaves and balances her colourful experiences with themes of loneliness, love, self- forgiveness of self as well as overcoming, learning and growing from each obstacle and experience life throws at her. I look forward to reading the next body of work Benge releases.
It’s not often I read essay collections and even rarer that I read them cover to cover. This collection is a beautiful read and feels more like a memoir. Excellent.
Fair amount of telling, perhaps not “the long labor” as much as you might wish, but interspersed with a handful of thoughts and images that did stop me in my tracks (her assault and the soul that others mar or reach with touch, the Trinity, her “great one” in Anne Carson and her words on the Camino, the reckless, luminous bravery in telling the story of a long-lost, half-invented lover). If nothing else, it’s a comfort to wander through another mind preoccupied with the themes of faith, storytelling, home, memory, and change.