Susan Midalia’s second collection of short stories offers us a compelling variety of characters, all of them ‘travellers’ in search of connection and belonging.
Tourists in Moscow and Vienna confronted by the weight of history. A young student teacher discovering her capacity for compassion. A teenage boy defending his mother’s reputation. A brother anguished by his sister’s illness. An ageing widow infatuated with a troubled young man. Conflicts between the silent burdens of the past and the drama of everyday lives.
Written with eloquence, grace and emotional generosity, these stories seek understanding rather than judgement, inviting us to reflect on the unspoken longings and regrets that make up who we are.
In these wry and sometimes poignant stories, the historical and the geographical often come together uneasily with the personal to disconcert her characters. The first piece in the book, 'Underground', typifies this conjunction. Petra, the focal character, is a middle-aged Australian tourist whose experience of visiting Russia disappoints her romantic expectations. She'd wanted to feel 'the grandeur of history' but the reality of modern Russia strikes her as tawdry. The story's title, which initially refers to Moscow's famous metro railway with its ornate stations, comes instead to signify the subterranean chamber displaying Lenin's embalmed corpse. Despite finding Red Square distasteful, Petra goes to see this mausoleum because she had promised her teenage nephew that she'd do so. Joining a sluggish queue, descending the black marble steps, she gazes at the waxy face and strange hands of the long-dead leader with a fleeting sense that Lenin himself looks perplexed, as if 'lost to some dream of history.' The ensuing conclusion doesn't overreach. There's no forcing of an epiphany - just the hint of a faintly modified apprehension of the world as Petra emerges from the tomb into daylight. At her best, Susan Midalia is a very fine writer.
In but a few words, some writers can create whole stories, rich characters, and stir emotion in their readers. Sue Midalia is one of them. Many of the stories, I just didn't want to leave ...
In ‘The boy with no ears’, I was with Amy watching on as her young neighbour was abused. In the title story, ‘An unknown sky’, I was there with the mother as she waved off her son at the airport, and I was there when she returned home to his empty room. That one, for me, was particularly cruel, as I soon will be that mother when I wave goodbye to my own daughter in a few months. Then there was Jim in ‘Crows’, who broke my heart by craving to lie with the woman he’d always loved. And Karen in ‘Backward facing curls’ who can’t settle down, while Jill, her childhood friend, can only watch on. How I enjoyed Matilda, the free-spirited backpacker in ‘The study of falling cats’, who isn’t as silly or as carefree as she appears. Then I felt for Toby in ‘Compensation’, who sits by his twin sister’s hospital bed, heavy with guilt. And elderly Grace in ‘The perfect stranger’, missing her dead son, and the young man she befriends, who is yearning for the love of his parents.
I loved this beautifully-drawn collection of characters, many of whom I could recognise from my own life.
Favourite Story: ‘What can I do for you?’ This story grabbed my heart and squeezed it, even before the twist at the end. It was one story that I didn’t want to leave …
Favourite Character: Elizabeth in ‘What can I do for you?’. She’s had so much grief, which she just quietly accepts.
‘How on a cold winter night she twined her feet through his, and silently cried when he turned his back.’
Favourite Quote: I always find this the hardest to pin down, and there’s many that I could have chosen, but I’ve picked this one from ‘A World of Sighs’. I melted when I read it, and it brought to mind the sound of Jacqueline du Pré playing Elgar’s Cello Concerto:
‘My mum teaches music, mostly cello, and she plays like she has bruises inside her.’