Maurice Shadbolt was a major New Zealand fiction writer and playwright. He published numerous novels and collections of short fiction, as well as novellas, non-fiction, and a play. His writing often drew on his own family history. Shadbolt won several fellowships and almost every major literary prize, some more than once. He was capped Honorary Doctor of Literature by the University of Auckland in 1997.
This is the second novel I have read by Maurice Shadbolt. My first was his first: "Among the Cinders". I bought it at the rubbish tip shop in Raglan while on holiday there two or three years ago. I was on the lookout for New Zealand fiction as I had recently started teaching English again and wanted to immerse myself in New Zealand literature beyond my confused attempt at reading Keri Hulme's "The Bone People" when I first arrived in the country those many years ago. Shadbolt caught my attention as I had heard he was a legendary New Zealand writer who had lived his last years in my town of Taumarunui. Not only that, but I know his son from Taumarunui and his children are friends of my son.
So impressed was I with "Among the Cinders", that I happily purchased "Strangers and Journeys", this time from the rubbish tip shop in Taumarunui. Now I'm not saying that Shadbolt and rubbish tip shops have anything particular in common . . . I just seem to meet his books there. Another interesting side note to this find was that I knew the previous owner who had inscribed her name inside the front cover. Small town. "Strangers and Journeys" won the 1973 Wattie Book of the Year award in New Zealand.
I loved "Stranger and Journeys" and, while I'm not qualified to make such an assessment, I think of it as New Zealand's "East of Eden". I read Steinbeck's classic last year so it was fresh in my mind when I started reading "Strangers" last April. Like "Eden", "Strangers" tells the stories of three generations - from fathers to sons to grandsons; it incorporates a landscape that is truly New Zealand.
Bill Freeman and Ned Livingston are the fathers. Bill is an ardent orator for the Communist Party and Ned is a returning war vet, set on farming his land away from the complications of the cities and wider world. The two men have little to do with each other until Bill ends up in the small rural town of Te Ika near Ned's farm. It is their sons who meet - Ian Freeman and Tim Livingston - at school and later in Auckland. One is destined to be a journalist and novelist, the other a painter. The novel shifts from their fathers' rural, common man setting to the more riotous political and cultural scene of Auckland.
I really enjoyed this part of the book - Shadbolt's ability to shift from taciturn farmers to more vibrant, quirky characters in the city. It's a tumultuous ride from there - swapping of girlfriends, police brutality against striking unionists, unplanned pregnancies, even murder. At the core of it is a group of men who are determined to see Tim Livingston rise to the top of the art world - in New Zealand and possibly globally.
Despite many varying measures of success, everyone fails really, and Shadbolt never gives the reader much hope for more. The writing is punchy, consisting of short sentences and mainly filled with the dialogue of Kiwi blokes - understated and unelaborative. It works - most times there are more things left unsaid than said, even in 588 pages.
For me, the characters of Bill Freeman and Tim Livingston cast long, complicated shadows over the entire work and will resonate with me after.
I recommend this book to anyone wanting a terrific sampling of New Zealand literature, even if it is so focussed on white, male New Zealand characters. It's short on Maori characters and the female characters primarily fill the roles of wife, girlfriend or sister. While I can't say how accurate it describes New Zealand from 1919-1971, I felt completely satisfied with the breadth of New Zealand politics, culture and humanity that Shadbolt covers.
I first read this book back in the early '80s and loved it so much that I've carted it through my life and travels to re-read. I'm glad that I just recently revisited it. I found the writing exquisite, in that every once in a while, there'd be a sentence that one re-reads, just to savor. The book mostly focuses on the labor movement in the early 20th century in New Zealand, following two specific men from a New Zealand village as they find their way through rebellion, political growth, failures, and disappointments. Their intermingling and eventual dispersal, along with the lives of their children, are intricately intertwined through to the mid-late '60s. It was well worth the re-read, though I began to tire of it in the last 100 pages and was glad to have finally finished it.
[I had to take a break between 3/26 and 4/6, because my husband died on 3/25, and I needed something light to help cleanse my sorrow.]
This is an appealing book and I would give it a 3.5 stars if a I could. I found the 1st 1/3 compelling, the 2nd third a little less so and the final third a bit of a let down. The book follows the lives of 2 fathers and their sons from the end of WWI to the 70s. The descriptions of the fathers at the beginning of the books are very powerful but the grown sons seem pale in comparison. Perhaps this is the point... I do think it gives an accurate portrayal of New Zealand from a Kiwi's point of view. If you spend time in NZ it is well worth reading.
Verschrobene Männer, minimalistische Kommunikation. Es geht um vorwiegend um Väter und Söhne, Überlebenskampf. Vieles erscheint typisch traditionell-männlich: Sturheit, Zurückgezogenheit, Misstrauen, Verlegenheit. In den 60er Jahren sind die Söhne Tim L. und Ian F. in Auckland; Projektionen der Erwartungen auf ihr Tun, Zusammenbruch der Gemeinschaft, Wiederholung der väterlichen Unzulänglichkeiten, gegen Ende sogar stärker, unglaubwürdig, verschroben. Der Autor verschachtelt die Zeiten, der Kontext wird unübersichtlich. Gut geschrieben, spannend, unterhaltend.