In The High Jump, internationally acclaimed novelist Elizabeth Knox recreates the sensory pleasures and gathering shadows of a New Zealand childhood in the late 1960s and early 1970s.
An unexpected find in a German bookshop. The 3 linked pieces were very evocative of a NZ childhood. Running about in bare feet, constantly in the water in the summer with no supervision, shared bedrooms and school uniforms. Why did I wait with bated breath for the sexual abuse? Why is it always there particularly with little girls and more so in this older time when it was seldom spoken about and just as seldom punished. In the book notes the author says that the book is highly autobiographical and so it seems. Mainly happy childhood - as happy as one could expect in a "normal" family - made creepy in the last section by the old neighbour who has been getting away with abuse for years because he is a war hero and old and probably won't do it again - until he does. It feels like an old story. While just a smallish part of the book that section felt particularly real with the child feeling guilty and partly responsible for what is happening. Well written, full of NZ-specific patois and worth the read. (Purchased at St Georges English Bookshop, Berlin)
More a portrait than a story, this is three novellas stitched together to paint a picture of a childhood in New Zealand. The central characters are the three Keene sisters, all pre adolescent, all experiencing the traumas and excitements which go along with growing up. The language and stories are well captured and believable. The author calls it ‘autobiographical fiction’ so that one can’t really argue with what is included. The prose isn’t always easy but it does impart a sort of dreamlike quality which makes sense. Simply because I found it slow reading I gave it 3 instead of 4 stars but for lovers of excellent descriptive prose, I recommend it.
Why do I never learn? Books about girls growing up in New Zealand always seem to need trigger warnings, and this is no exception. The prose is very proto-Elizabeth Knox, but if there had not been Vintner’s Luck, this wouldn’t get a second glance.
A beautiful evocation of growing up in 60s and 70s New Zealand which brings together three autobiographical novellas. The themes of private experience, reticence, and the struggle to articulate are common ones in New Zealand literature, not often handled more sensitively than here.