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Ned e la balena
In una piccola valle della Tasmania, il giovane Ned sogna di solcare su una barca tutta sua le acque del fiume Tamar, alla cui foce si crede dimori una balena impazzita. Ned ha sempre vissuto a contatto con la natura, aiutando il padre nel meleto della fattoria di famiglia, Limberlost. E mentre i suoi fratelli più grandi stanno combattendo in una guerra spietata e lontana, diventando uomini sul campo di battaglia, Ned vaga a caccia di conigli, vendendo le loro pelli per finanziare le sue segrete ambizioni nautiche. Ma con il passare delle stagioni, Ned cresce e si innamora di Callie, la sorella del suo migliore amico, con cui impara le lezioni dell'amore e delle responsabilità familiari. E quando una tempesta decima il raccolto di Limberlost minando il futuro del frutteto, Ned deve decidere cosa proteggere: i suoi sogni di bambino o le persone e la terra che lo circondano.
256 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2022
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8548 people want to read
About the author
Robbie Arnott
11 books630 followersRobbie Arnott was born in Launceston in 1989. His writing has appeared in Island, the Lifted Brow, Kill Your Darlings and the 2017 anthology Seven Stories. He won the 2015 Tasmanian Young Writers’ Fellowship and the 2014 Scribe Nonfiction Prize for Young Writers. Robbie lives in Hobart and is an advertising copywriter.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 919 reviews
January 17, 2023
Limberlost is a name of the place… The story is about a coming of age and after… The story is simple but profound…
It’s wartime… Teenaged Ned dreams of possessing his own boat… His dream is a secret… He’s stashing money hunting rabbits and selling their pelts… And he accidentally trapped a ferocious wild beast… One day he must visit a vet…
He is very effective at his task… So the goal of his dreams isn’t just an empty fantasy…
At last his dream comes true… He is happy and brimming with pride… He is full of plans…
Years pass… Now he is an adult man… His life is full of concerns and worries… He is a married man and must feed his family…
Life goes on but the memories of childhood remain bright and precious.
It’s wartime… Teenaged Ned dreams of possessing his own boat… His dream is a secret… He’s stashing money hunting rabbits and selling their pelts… And he accidentally trapped a ferocious wild beast… One day he must visit a vet…
He felt light and good. He’d convinced himself that his accidental confession didn’t matter, because the vet, being a near-hermit, surely wouldn’t tell anyone. His boat dreams would remain a secret. And he had a new source of rabbits – garden-fed, lustrous and fat. And the quoll would live, and so would the mare, and he was the one who had done it: he, and only he, had fixed these things.
He is very effective at his task… So the goal of his dreams isn’t just an empty fantasy…
Old Singline came to expect him; haggling became a formality; money piled in the dust beneath his bed. It was thorough work: rising early, riding to the vet’s, trapping and shooting and skinning, riding home, working in the trees, checking fruit, riding to town, riding home, fossicking for eggs, feeding the quoll, trying to be useful to Maggie around the house and yard. It left his eyes red, his body sore. He liked these days – liked how they hollowed him out.
At last his dream comes true… He is happy and brimming with pride… He is full of plans…
Years pass… Now he is an adult man… His life is full of concerns and worries… He is a married man and must feed his family…
Soon he began to think of his little orchard, and the scions of golden delicious he’d recently grafted onto the young trees. Hoped the grafts would take. He thought of his wife, his daughter. Felt the buzz of love that comes with a little distance. Let the sea cool his booted feet.
Life goes on but the memories of childhood remain bright and precious.
May 4, 2023
There is so much that I loved about this novel:
Arnott’s skill in writing blunt but convincing and real dialogue contrasted with his far-reaching descriptive prose; the clever way he weave’s a story and gives us his characters; and his awe and respect for the Tasmanian landscape.
All that’s left for me to back up my 5-star rating is to say… it is splendid.
This is my first Robbie Arnott work, not the last, and I can see why he receives accolades.
Arnott’s skill in writing blunt but convincing and real dialogue contrasted with his far-reaching descriptive prose; the clever way he weave’s a story and gives us his characters; and his awe and respect for the Tasmanian landscape.
All that’s left for me to back up my 5-star rating is to say… it is splendid.
This is my first Robbie Arnott work, not the last, and I can see why he receives accolades.
January 12, 2023
Robbie Arnott born in Launceston, lives in Hobart – a Tasmanian. Two beautiful cities and a gorgeous state, wilderness on steroids. One of my favourite places.
Limberlost, Arnott’s third novel, is about an Apple farming rural family in Tasmania around the time of WWII.
The father seems preoccupied with the fact two of his sons are off fighting the war leaving young Ned at home, with his older sister to help around the orchard. Ned is a wonderful little man, a great character – he pulls on the heartstrings that’s for sure. He hunts rabbits so he can sell the pelts for the army to make slouch hats – as worn by Aussie soldiers (see below). Ned wants to buy a boat with the money earned from his rabbit pelts. But the thing about this young guy is, he just seems a bit uncertain of himself and he is always, I mean always, seeking external validation from his father and older sister.
ANZAC WWI Soldier wearing the characteristic Slouch Hat
At first glance the characters in this book appear a little underdeveloped. Particualarly the characters not called “Ned”, and in my view this seemed to read as a young adult story. But the more one reads this story, the more we see the slow meandering threads come together. This also applies to the various random anecdotes and jumps in time, these also make sense the more the reader proceeds.
Arnott ever so cleverly pulls it all together to craft an emotionally potent story. I finished this last night at around 1am – and after reading the last few pages, I said “wow”. You all know that sort of ending? Well, this is one of those reads – I really liked it.
I will have trouble explaining this – so here goes. Ned has an experience in this story that produces a specific visceral feeling within him. A real – and I quote “swelling, a ripping expansion, a hugeness that rang through him for the length of his life.” Something he never felt, nor could reproduce again.
Does anyone else have this sort of ‘one-off’ specific, abject, heartrending feeling? Something caused by an earlier experience that can never be reproduced, and something never felt again – even during other crises in our lives. I do – from a time when I was 10 years old. This feeling seems just around the corner but also unreachable – it plagues me sometimes. Well Arnott describes this with such precision in the closing part of this story – I found it chilling.
Yes, there are some confronting scenes of animals being shot, or drowning and being caught in horrible leg traps, some are still alive after many hours. Something I find distressing at the best of times, but the pull of the story kept me going. I think I will remember this and young Ned for a while.
Many thanks to Ebba for buddy reading this one with me, always a pleasure!! But, I’m not so sure Ebba enjoyed this one as much as I did. Or it could have been the fact I sent so many pictures of Quolls and Bilbies to her, she became a little bit overwhelmed!!!
4 Stars
Limberlost, Arnott’s third novel, is about an Apple farming rural family in Tasmania around the time of WWII.
The father seems preoccupied with the fact two of his sons are off fighting the war leaving young Ned at home, with his older sister to help around the orchard. Ned is a wonderful little man, a great character – he pulls on the heartstrings that’s for sure. He hunts rabbits so he can sell the pelts for the army to make slouch hats – as worn by Aussie soldiers (see below). Ned wants to buy a boat with the money earned from his rabbit pelts. But the thing about this young guy is, he just seems a bit uncertain of himself and he is always, I mean always, seeking external validation from his father and older sister.
ANZAC WWI Soldier wearing the characteristic Slouch Hat
At first glance the characters in this book appear a little underdeveloped. Particualarly the characters not called “Ned”, and in my view this seemed to read as a young adult story. But the more one reads this story, the more we see the slow meandering threads come together. This also applies to the various random anecdotes and jumps in time, these also make sense the more the reader proceeds.
Arnott ever so cleverly pulls it all together to craft an emotionally potent story. I finished this last night at around 1am – and after reading the last few pages, I said “wow”. You all know that sort of ending? Well, this is one of those reads – I really liked it.
I will have trouble explaining this – so here goes. Ned has an experience in this story that produces a specific visceral feeling within him. A real – and I quote “swelling, a ripping expansion, a hugeness that rang through him for the length of his life.” Something he never felt, nor could reproduce again.
Does anyone else have this sort of ‘one-off’ specific, abject, heartrending feeling? Something caused by an earlier experience that can never be reproduced, and something never felt again – even during other crises in our lives. I do – from a time when I was 10 years old. This feeling seems just around the corner but also unreachable – it plagues me sometimes. Well Arnott describes this with such precision in the closing part of this story – I found it chilling.
Yes, there are some confronting scenes of animals being shot, or drowning and being caught in horrible leg traps, some are still alive after many hours. Something I find distressing at the best of times, but the pull of the story kept me going. I think I will remember this and young Ned for a while.
Many thanks to Ebba for buddy reading this one with me, always a pleasure!! But, I’m not so sure Ebba enjoyed this one as much as I did. Or it could have been the fact I sent so many pictures of Quolls and Bilbies to her, she became a little bit overwhelmed!!!
4 Stars
August 7, 2023
A very simple story, but one that's beautifully written and will leave you with a profound feeling of warmth and nostalgia.
April 29, 2023
5★
“Ned was thirty. When would the natural competence of other men come to him? He knew he had worth.”
This is the only book I’ve read by Tasmanian author Robbie Arnott, but I’m lining up the rest now. At the moment, he sits with fellow Tasmanian Richard Flanagan and Western Australian Tim Winton in my mental library of authors for their sense of place and character.
In this book Arnott takes Ned West from his Tasmanian childhood in the 1940s right through to young adulthood, marriage, and the end days, but the focus is on one particular hot summer. His two older brothers are fighting overseas, his sister, Maggie, has been living in Hobart, and his father has pretty much had the stuffing knocked out of him.
They live on “Limberlost”, the family apple orchard, where Ned has been alone with his father. Ned’s mother died not long after he was born, and it’s only through Maggie’s memories that he learns who she was. Maggie has come back to the farm this summer – no reason given – just thank goodness she has returned.
Ned has been hunting rabbits. His feelings are mixed between enjoying the skill needed to shoot or trap them, and the actual killing of living creatures. He usually manages ok when he finds them already cold and dead in the traps, but he hates having to finish some of them off.
“They were pests. The only true use they had was to serve in death as slouch hats. And yet he felt a huge relief when they ceased shivering under his foot. In these moments he would look away from the rabbit to the sky, the glowing trees, the wakening river, as if the tranquillity of the orchard could remove him from what he’d done.”
Arnott doesn’t shy away from the realities of farm life, managing to put the brutal side of death in the same scene with the peacefulness of the landscape. It is what it is. Ned is selling the skins to a dealer in town.
“And while Singline—a man made mostly of lint, capillaries and brandy vapour—had haggled and pontificated until the afternoon turned stale, he had paid in cash.”
He secretly wants to buy a boat. When he was a little fella, his dad had taken him and his brothers in a boat to the mouth of the river to see the ‘mad whale’ the boys had heard rumours about. Dad couldn’t convince them it was a fisherman’s tale.
Although there was no whale to greet them, Ned had been bitten by the river bug and wanted to explore it himself. The continuing river story especially reminds me of Flanagan’s work, while the ocean diving in other parts is reminiscent of Winton territory.
While this summer is the heart of the book - hunting rabbits, fishing with his mate Jackbird, and saving up for a boat – what happens with the quoll he finds in one of his traps is what haunts him the rest of his life.
Quolls are small, tree-climbing native marsupials, brown or black with attractive white spots. Sounds cute, right? But they are meat-eaters with spiky sharp teeth and can be fierce. Not pets. When Ned finds one caught by its mangled foot in his rabbit trap, he feels confused, terrified (they are scary little creatures), and guilty.
“A thick tail, as long as head and body combined, flowed from its hindquarters, carrying more of the spots. Its legs were short, each ending in a clutch of long pink toes and curved claws.
Ned took another step. The quoll burst into a snarl, its jaws flying impossibly wide, revealing a mouth of white knives.”
He hides it in an apple crate and hopes to heal it. It is not a feral pest, but it was after Maggie’s chickens, a favourite prey.
At fifteen, he has a lot to deal with, but it sets him up for his later years. I quoted him earlier where he was wondering at thirty when he’d feel naturally competent. We know others recognised his worth.
At twenty-five, he was put in charge of a logging crew, even though he was the youngest.
“When they’d put him in charge, Ned’s superiors had given him a simple mission: stay sober enough to make sure chaos didn’t overwhelm the camp. During the working day he was nominally in charge of operations, but the loggers were experienced men, leathered by decades of warring with the trees.
They rarely felt the need to speak to each other, not even when they felled the largest of the Knights, lopped off the limbs and hauled the pale-glowing trunks onto their flatbed truck.”
The logging left him with the same feelings as the quoll. Lopping off the limbs of “the White Knights—the name they’d given to the pale, towering mannas” sounds exactly like dismembering the enemy in medieval times. They are not Ned's enemy - far from it.
“…his time killing the White Knights had left him with a permanent stickiness to his hands and a reddish wound in his soul.”
Arnott doesn’t beat us over the head with diatribes about conservation and the natural world, he simply shows us a boy who grows up appreciating what he sees and recognising what is disappearing.
“Gazing out his window to the east, he noticed the absence of certain forests that had once crawled over the low mountains. Caught himself missing them, hoping they would return. Recognised the hypocrisy in his wanting: the trees in those vanished forests had been manna gums. White Knights, felled on his watch.”
Felled on our watch, too.
I loved Ned and the book. Chapters move back and forth but are always clear. Things in his later life may be revealed long before we learn how they took place. By the end, he is a complete man and a wonderful one.
Thank you Robbie Arnott, for being another great Australian writer. And kudos for celebrating the natural world.
“Ned was thirty. When would the natural competence of other men come to him? He knew he had worth.”
This is the only book I’ve read by Tasmanian author Robbie Arnott, but I’m lining up the rest now. At the moment, he sits with fellow Tasmanian Richard Flanagan and Western Australian Tim Winton in my mental library of authors for their sense of place and character.
In this book Arnott takes Ned West from his Tasmanian childhood in the 1940s right through to young adulthood, marriage, and the end days, but the focus is on one particular hot summer. His two older brothers are fighting overseas, his sister, Maggie, has been living in Hobart, and his father has pretty much had the stuffing knocked out of him.
They live on “Limberlost”, the family apple orchard, where Ned has been alone with his father. Ned’s mother died not long after he was born, and it’s only through Maggie’s memories that he learns who she was. Maggie has come back to the farm this summer – no reason given – just thank goodness she has returned.
Ned has been hunting rabbits. His feelings are mixed between enjoying the skill needed to shoot or trap them, and the actual killing of living creatures. He usually manages ok when he finds them already cold and dead in the traps, but he hates having to finish some of them off.
“They were pests. The only true use they had was to serve in death as slouch hats. And yet he felt a huge relief when they ceased shivering under his foot. In these moments he would look away from the rabbit to the sky, the glowing trees, the wakening river, as if the tranquillity of the orchard could remove him from what he’d done.”
Arnott doesn’t shy away from the realities of farm life, managing to put the brutal side of death in the same scene with the peacefulness of the landscape. It is what it is. Ned is selling the skins to a dealer in town.
“And while Singline—a man made mostly of lint, capillaries and brandy vapour—had haggled and pontificated until the afternoon turned stale, he had paid in cash.”
He secretly wants to buy a boat. When he was a little fella, his dad had taken him and his brothers in a boat to the mouth of the river to see the ‘mad whale’ the boys had heard rumours about. Dad couldn’t convince them it was a fisherman’s tale.
Although there was no whale to greet them, Ned had been bitten by the river bug and wanted to explore it himself. The continuing river story especially reminds me of Flanagan’s work, while the ocean diving in other parts is reminiscent of Winton territory.
While this summer is the heart of the book - hunting rabbits, fishing with his mate Jackbird, and saving up for a boat – what happens with the quoll he finds in one of his traps is what haunts him the rest of his life.
Quolls are small, tree-climbing native marsupials, brown or black with attractive white spots. Sounds cute, right? But they are meat-eaters with spiky sharp teeth and can be fierce. Not pets. When Ned finds one caught by its mangled foot in his rabbit trap, he feels confused, terrified (they are scary little creatures), and guilty.
“A thick tail, as long as head and body combined, flowed from its hindquarters, carrying more of the spots. Its legs were short, each ending in a clutch of long pink toes and curved claws.
Ned took another step. The quoll burst into a snarl, its jaws flying impossibly wide, revealing a mouth of white knives.”
He hides it in an apple crate and hopes to heal it. It is not a feral pest, but it was after Maggie’s chickens, a favourite prey.
At fifteen, he has a lot to deal with, but it sets him up for his later years. I quoted him earlier where he was wondering at thirty when he’d feel naturally competent. We know others recognised his worth.
At twenty-five, he was put in charge of a logging crew, even though he was the youngest.
“When they’d put him in charge, Ned’s superiors had given him a simple mission: stay sober enough to make sure chaos didn’t overwhelm the camp. During the working day he was nominally in charge of operations, but the loggers were experienced men, leathered by decades of warring with the trees.
They rarely felt the need to speak to each other, not even when they felled the largest of the Knights, lopped off the limbs and hauled the pale-glowing trunks onto their flatbed truck.”
The logging left him with the same feelings as the quoll. Lopping off the limbs of “the White Knights—the name they’d given to the pale, towering mannas” sounds exactly like dismembering the enemy in medieval times. They are not Ned's enemy - far from it.
“…his time killing the White Knights had left him with a permanent stickiness to his hands and a reddish wound in his soul.”
Arnott doesn’t beat us over the head with diatribes about conservation and the natural world, he simply shows us a boy who grows up appreciating what he sees and recognising what is disappearing.
“Gazing out his window to the east, he noticed the absence of certain forests that had once crawled over the low mountains. Caught himself missing them, hoping they would return. Recognised the hypocrisy in his wanting: the trees in those vanished forests had been manna gums. White Knights, felled on his watch.”
Felled on our watch, too.
I loved Ned and the book. Chapters move back and forth but are always clear. Things in his later life may be revealed long before we learn how they took place. By the end, he is a complete man and a wonderful one.
Thank you Robbie Arnott, for being another great Australian writer. And kudos for celebrating the natural world.
October 18, 2022
I had not heard of Robbie Arnott until the day I borrowed this book on ebook from my local library, thanks to my Canadian GR friend Jodi telling me of him and this book. Arnott is the name of one of our most famous biscuit makers here in Australia, but it is not uncommon for Aussie writers to be better known overseas than here at home. Until recently, at Dymocks, one of our biggest bookstores, you could only find Liane Moriarity in the international book section. Go figger.
Mr Arnott is certainly not a conventional writer, this being his third book. I found it hard going for most of the first half, the writing was descriptive, but the narrative jumped around a bit in time, and it was unclear just what Ned was doing or looking for. By the end, I was a fan of the writing, the story unfolding in sweeping vignettes, the Tasmanian backdrop an important element. Dealing initially with a mad whale, descriptive killing of many many rabbits in order to sell their pelts and eventually buy his desired boat, accidently trapping and severely injuring a quoll, opens up a whole new world to Ned in that important summer of his youth. The dialogue was sometimes extradinary, especially in one scene between Ned and Telle, the local vet.
Spending most of the book unsure if I even liked the writing, by the end I was won over. Some extraordinary writing here, I will surely look at Arnott's first two books.
Mr Arnott is certainly not a conventional writer, this being his third book. I found it hard going for most of the first half, the writing was descriptive, but the narrative jumped around a bit in time, and it was unclear just what Ned was doing or looking for. By the end, I was a fan of the writing, the story unfolding in sweeping vignettes, the Tasmanian backdrop an important element. Dealing initially with a mad whale, descriptive killing of many many rabbits in order to sell their pelts and eventually buy his desired boat, accidently trapping and severely injuring a quoll, opens up a whole new world to Ned in that important summer of his youth. The dialogue was sometimes extradinary, especially in one scene between Ned and Telle, the local vet.
Spending most of the book unsure if I even liked the writing, by the end I was won over. Some extraordinary writing here, I will surely look at Arnott's first two books.
December 13, 2022
Longlisted for the 2023 Australian Indie Award for Fiction.
Ned, too young to join his brothers off fighting in the war, leads a pretty much solitary existence. When not working on his family’s orchard, he is hunting rabbits, selling their pelts to the army to make into Slouch Hats. He does not really care about the hats; he desperately wants to use the proceeds from his sales to buy a boat.
When Ned was five, rumours abounded of a feral whale, destroying every boat and ship in its path. Ned cannot dislodge this whale from his memory, nightmares steal his sleep for weeks. When his father learns of this, he takes Ned and his brothers out in a borrowed boat to prove the waters are safe. Perhaps this is where Ned develops his passion to build a boat.
While other characters drop in and out for short appearances, Ned owns the book. He is a character that you admire more than love. He gets the job done. He works tirelessly to buy his boat, and then knowing nothing about sailing proceeds to teach himself. Going to the jetty, examining other boats to learn how to set up his sail. His first sail he is “lost at sea” but he soon learns to read the wind and work the sail all by himself. At times Ned lacks self-confidence, his own worst critic, and yet he achieves much without giving himself credit, part of his charm.
After reading, and loving, Arnott’s two previous novels I was suprised to find this one containing no magical realism at all. No talking animals, nothing, nada, zip. It does however contain some wonderful anecdotes, like the time he accidentally traps a quoll in his rabbit trap and nurses it back to health. For those of you who don’t know what a quoll is, this is no mean feat. Google them. Vicious little critters, sadly staring down the barrel of extinction in most areas, their numbers dwindling every day.
Arnott’s descriptive writing captures the landscape, the fauna, the flora, vividly. The writing so vivid the reader could not mistake where this novel takes place and reminded me of the beauty of our country. Arnott’s debut novel inspired the same feelings.
While the writing is beautiful, the structure takes a little getting used to. The story at first feels as if it is being told in little bite size snippets. As the book progresses the narrative will jump to the present, presenting Ned’s stories as historical anecdotes. It does take a little getting used to, but when you do, it works well, enabling Arnott to fit Ned’s life into the confines of a short novel.
Nothing spectacular happens in this novel, but it is a very enjoyable read of a character’s life. It feels like Arnott just wanted to write a realistic story, giving himself a platform to write about nature and the land he obviously loves.
Ned, too young to join his brothers off fighting in the war, leads a pretty much solitary existence. When not working on his family’s orchard, he is hunting rabbits, selling their pelts to the army to make into Slouch Hats. He does not really care about the hats; he desperately wants to use the proceeds from his sales to buy a boat.
When Ned was five, rumours abounded of a feral whale, destroying every boat and ship in its path. Ned cannot dislodge this whale from his memory, nightmares steal his sleep for weeks. When his father learns of this, he takes Ned and his brothers out in a borrowed boat to prove the waters are safe. Perhaps this is where Ned develops his passion to build a boat.
While other characters drop in and out for short appearances, Ned owns the book. He is a character that you admire more than love. He gets the job done. He works tirelessly to buy his boat, and then knowing nothing about sailing proceeds to teach himself. Going to the jetty, examining other boats to learn how to set up his sail. His first sail he is “lost at sea” but he soon learns to read the wind and work the sail all by himself. At times Ned lacks self-confidence, his own worst critic, and yet he achieves much without giving himself credit, part of his charm.
After reading, and loving, Arnott’s two previous novels I was suprised to find this one containing no magical realism at all. No talking animals, nothing, nada, zip. It does however contain some wonderful anecdotes, like the time he accidentally traps a quoll in his rabbit trap and nurses it back to health. For those of you who don’t know what a quoll is, this is no mean feat. Google them. Vicious little critters, sadly staring down the barrel of extinction in most areas, their numbers dwindling every day.
Arnott’s descriptive writing captures the landscape, the fauna, the flora, vividly. The writing so vivid the reader could not mistake where this novel takes place and reminded me of the beauty of our country. Arnott’s debut novel inspired the same feelings.
While the writing is beautiful, the structure takes a little getting used to. The story at first feels as if it is being told in little bite size snippets. As the book progresses the narrative will jump to the present, presenting Ned’s stories as historical anecdotes. It does take a little getting used to, but when you do, it works well, enabling Arnott to fit Ned’s life into the confines of a short novel.
Nothing spectacular happens in this novel, but it is a very enjoyable read of a character’s life. It feels like Arnott just wanted to write a realistic story, giving himself a platform to write about nature and the land he obviously loves.
November 15, 2022
2.5
I was excited to get my hands on the latest Robbie Arnott offering, as I loved his Rain Heron.
Unfortunately, this novel did nothing for me.
Positives: it's short and easy to read.
The rest: flat writing, uninteresting characters and a not-that-exciting storyline.
I even switched to the audiobook, thinking that a good narrator might make it more exciting. Nope. Zoe Carides' delivery made me realise that, indeed, the writing was flat and mechanical.
I tried, I really tried, the truth remains - I didn't enjoy it and the writing wasn't outstanding to help me overcome my ennui.
I was excited to get my hands on the latest Robbie Arnott offering, as I loved his Rain Heron.
Unfortunately, this novel did nothing for me.
Positives: it's short and easy to read.
The rest: flat writing, uninteresting characters and a not-that-exciting storyline.
I even switched to the audiobook, thinking that a good narrator might make it more exciting. Nope. Zoe Carides' delivery made me realise that, indeed, the writing was flat and mechanical.
I tried, I really tried, the truth remains - I didn't enjoy it and the writing wasn't outstanding to help me overcome my ennui.
March 25, 2024
Limberlost by Robbie Arnott
Synopsis /
In the heat of a long summer Ned hunts rabbits in a river valley, hoping the pelts will earn him enough money to buy a small boat.
His two brothers are away at war, their whereabouts unknown. His father and older sister struggle to hold things together on the family orchard, Limberlost.
Desperate to ignore it all—to avoid the future rushing towards him—Ned dreams of open water.
As his story unfolds over the following decades, we see how Ned’s choices that summer come to shape the course of his life, the fate of his family and the future of the valley, with its seasons of death and rebirth.
My Thoughts /
At 240 pages in length, Limberlost by Robbie Arnott might be a little book, but it is packed full of bookish goodness. I finished this four days ago, yet the story is still so prominently in my mind. I just know that I'm not going to be able to express eloquently enough how much I enjoyed this story - so I hope you will forgive my clumsy attempt.
If I had to describe this book in one sentence? A poignant story about the life of a quiet, sensitive man. It might also be described as a coming-of-age story of sorts, about a boy who lives on an apple orchard (named Limberlost) in country Tasmania during the Second World War. Either way, reading this was like a calming balm for the soul.
When the story opens, Ned is five. His father has taken him out on a friend's boat to see if they can find a whale. There are rumours that the whale has been impaled with a harpoon. The harpoon hasn't killed the beast but instead, driven him mad from the pain. The stories go on to say that the whale is now terrorizing fishing boats as act of revenge. These rumours haunt Ned, so his father has brought him out onto the water to see for himself. Is the whale myth or a memory? It doesn't matter. What we see is a frightened child waiting in a small boat for something large and powerful to show itself. This is a memory that Ned returns to often throughout the story, along with the memories of his two older brothers, Bill, and Toby, who enlisted in WWII.
The narrative sways back and forth in time. From Ned as a child, then growing into a man, working, marrying, and then having his own family. Arnott writes about Ned's encounters between human and non-human lives. His relationships with animals are twofold. On one hand, he kills and skins wild rabbits in the hope that selling their furs will raise enough money for him to buy a boat of his own. [It's not just the boat Ned desires, but his father's approval that he's a good and capable son.] While on the other hand, when checking his traps, Ned realises he's caught (and injured) a Quoll. He is overcome with guilt that he's harmed the beautiful creature and feels responsible now for his care and eventual release. Throughout this story there is a holistic reverence for the lives of animals.
The writing is sensory, almost textured. Sublime. Above all, this a novel about our deepest emptions - love, fear, loss, and joy. I've never been so engaged to read about the scent of a boat's timber. But you will be, Arnott's writing will draw you in. Every thread in this story draws a connection to place, family, animal, and environment. And weaving between all these is Ned, who makes a life for himself - difficult choices and all. Some you can live with; some are harder to reconcile.
Yet the wood kept at him. In it Ned saw gold, saw nature, saw heaven. Wider possibilities seemed within reach in a boat that refused to hide a colour like that. He imagined it melding into the river’s morning slate, its blondness playing against the soft notes of dawn. It didn’t feel like he made the decision, the wood just insisted, and then he was holding his breath and scrubbing sandpaper down the boat’s flanks, tearing paint away in flecks and strips, an olive cloud speckling the air.
Limberlost doesn't answer all of life's complex questions, but it succeeds in capturing the complexity of our relationships with each other and with the natural world. It deserves all the stars.
Synopsis /
In the heat of a long summer Ned hunts rabbits in a river valley, hoping the pelts will earn him enough money to buy a small boat.
His two brothers are away at war, their whereabouts unknown. His father and older sister struggle to hold things together on the family orchard, Limberlost.
Desperate to ignore it all—to avoid the future rushing towards him—Ned dreams of open water.
As his story unfolds over the following decades, we see how Ned’s choices that summer come to shape the course of his life, the fate of his family and the future of the valley, with its seasons of death and rebirth.
My Thoughts /
At 240 pages in length, Limberlost by Robbie Arnott might be a little book, but it is packed full of bookish goodness. I finished this four days ago, yet the story is still so prominently in my mind. I just know that I'm not going to be able to express eloquently enough how much I enjoyed this story - so I hope you will forgive my clumsy attempt.
If I had to describe this book in one sentence? A poignant story about the life of a quiet, sensitive man. It might also be described as a coming-of-age story of sorts, about a boy who lives on an apple orchard (named Limberlost) in country Tasmania during the Second World War. Either way, reading this was like a calming balm for the soul.
When the story opens, Ned is five. His father has taken him out on a friend's boat to see if they can find a whale. There are rumours that the whale has been impaled with a harpoon. The harpoon hasn't killed the beast but instead, driven him mad from the pain. The stories go on to say that the whale is now terrorizing fishing boats as act of revenge. These rumours haunt Ned, so his father has brought him out onto the water to see for himself. Is the whale myth or a memory? It doesn't matter. What we see is a frightened child waiting in a small boat for something large and powerful to show itself. This is a memory that Ned returns to often throughout the story, along with the memories of his two older brothers, Bill, and Toby, who enlisted in WWII.
The narrative sways back and forth in time. From Ned as a child, then growing into a man, working, marrying, and then having his own family. Arnott writes about Ned's encounters between human and non-human lives. His relationships with animals are twofold. On one hand, he kills and skins wild rabbits in the hope that selling their furs will raise enough money for him to buy a boat of his own. [It's not just the boat Ned desires, but his father's approval that he's a good and capable son.] While on the other hand, when checking his traps, Ned realises he's caught (and injured) a Quoll. He is overcome with guilt that he's harmed the beautiful creature and feels responsible now for his care and eventual release. Throughout this story there is a holistic reverence for the lives of animals.
The writing is sensory, almost textured. Sublime. Above all, this a novel about our deepest emptions - love, fear, loss, and joy. I've never been so engaged to read about the scent of a boat's timber. But you will be, Arnott's writing will draw you in. Every thread in this story draws a connection to place, family, animal, and environment. And weaving between all these is Ned, who makes a life for himself - difficult choices and all. Some you can live with; some are harder to reconcile.
Yet the wood kept at him. In it Ned saw gold, saw nature, saw heaven. Wider possibilities seemed within reach in a boat that refused to hide a colour like that. He imagined it melding into the river’s morning slate, its blondness playing against the soft notes of dawn. It didn’t feel like he made the decision, the wood just insisted, and then he was holding his breath and scrubbing sandpaper down the boat’s flanks, tearing paint away in flecks and strips, an olive cloud speckling the air.
Limberlost doesn't answer all of life's complex questions, but it succeeds in capturing the complexity of our relationships with each other and with the natural world. It deserves all the stars.
August 24, 2024
In the end I did not enjoy this one quite as much as I had hoped. All those five star reviews - maybe my expectations were raised too high.
The story tells of a young boy called Ned growing up in a rural area of Tasmania during the war. His two big brothers are away fighting and he lives with just his father although later his older sister joins them. Ned spends far too much time on his own and his main occupation is killing wild rabbits and selling their skins to be made into slouch hats for the soldiers. His dream is to make enough money to buy a boat.
For me the good things about this book were the sense of place in beautiful Tassie which was very well done, and the characters who were written very well if too briefly. So what went wrong? By the end despite the fact that Ned feels his life has contained many emotional highlights I did not feel them. I wanted the author to give me more depth, more facts, more substance. Overall I liked it but did not love it.
The story tells of a young boy called Ned growing up in a rural area of Tasmania during the war. His two big brothers are away fighting and he lives with just his father although later his older sister joins them. Ned spends far too much time on his own and his main occupation is killing wild rabbits and selling their skins to be made into slouch hats for the soldiers. His dream is to make enough money to buy a boat.
For me the good things about this book were the sense of place in beautiful Tassie which was very well done, and the characters who were written very well if too briefly. So what went wrong? By the end despite the fact that Ned feels his life has contained many emotional highlights I did not feel them. I wanted the author to give me more depth, more facts, more substance. Overall I liked it but did not love it.
May 25, 2024
Limberlost, Robbie Arnott's 3rd novel, moves away from the fantasy elements that made his first two novels such wonderful reads. This one is a life story of Ned as a youngster during the 2nd world war through to an older age dealing with his apple farm and married life in Tasmania and all of life’s other issues. So simple a story that has been told before, but such is the ability of the author to take us deep into the mind of Ned that we hang onto the descriptive words written.
Yes it might be a well-worn tale of many that have lived a similar life, but be that as it may it is very well told and shows that Robbie Arnott is a very gifted writer. He could have written a book that was of saccharine sentimentally, but he told of good a life lived with charm.
Recommended to all that read Tasmanian literature.
Yes it might be a well-worn tale of many that have lived a similar life, but be that as it may it is very well told and shows that Robbie Arnott is a very gifted writer. He could have written a book that was of saccharine sentimentally, but he told of good a life lived with charm.
Recommended to all that read Tasmanian literature.
December 28, 2024
I was excited to chance upon this poignant, gentle novel while hunting down a childhood favourite (Gene Stratton Porter’s ‘A Girl of the Limberlost’ which is referenced in both title and within the book itself). Here is an almost perfect combination of Bildungsroman and nature writing, reminiscent of Thoreau, Hardy and early Winton.
Arnott’s writing is both sinuous and sinewy, romantic and at times nostalgic but beautifully controlled and full of strength.
As commented recently by a critic while reviewing the novel: ‘He’ll win all the big prizes one day.’ And he will.
Arnott’s writing is both sinuous and sinewy, romantic and at times nostalgic but beautifully controlled and full of strength.
As commented recently by a critic while reviewing the novel: ‘He’ll win all the big prizes one day.’ And he will.
October 5, 2022
A boy, a mad whale and an obsession. Limberlost is perhaps more conventional than the author's previous two novels, but it is still a great, imaginative read that captures the singular beauty of the Tasmanian landscape. In my view, Robbie Arnott's nature-writing is unsurpassed.
The water tumbled through high ridges, crowded with the princes of the island’s wetter wildernesses: blackheart sassafras, dappled leatherwoods, contortions of mossy myrtles. Giant stringybarks rose above them all, their gum-topped crowns fighting for space in the clouds. The forest loomed, wet-dark and thickly green in the morning dew, and through the ancient roots of its trees the Liffey ran and broke and fell to splash the boots of the gazing newlyweds.
Ned West is the youngest of four, living with his widowed father on the family orchard, Limberlost, in the north-east of Tasmania. Not a child, but not yet old enough to join his two older brothers at war, Ned spends his summer holidays hunting and trapping rabbits so he can sell their pelts for making slouch hats. Outwardly, he claims this to be his very own war effort, but deep inside he has a dream that he can barely even admit to himself - he wants to save the money to buy a boat.
Almost goaded into confiding his plans to best mate, Jackbird, Ned soon finds his dream turning into an unstoppable force. But with no recent news of his deployed brothers, and the orchard failing, Ned struggles to reconcile his own potential happiness and fulfilment with the grim realities of family responsibility.
I enjoyed every moment spent in Ned's company, as he grew from teen to man to father. I cheered his successes and felt empathy for his losses. I shed a tear at the perfect ending.
With thanks to NetGalley and Text Publishing for the opportunity to read and review an advance copy. Please note that the text quoted above may have changed by publication date.
The water tumbled through high ridges, crowded with the princes of the island’s wetter wildernesses: blackheart sassafras, dappled leatherwoods, contortions of mossy myrtles. Giant stringybarks rose above them all, their gum-topped crowns fighting for space in the clouds. The forest loomed, wet-dark and thickly green in the morning dew, and through the ancient roots of its trees the Liffey ran and broke and fell to splash the boots of the gazing newlyweds.
Ned West is the youngest of four, living with his widowed father on the family orchard, Limberlost, in the north-east of Tasmania. Not a child, but not yet old enough to join his two older brothers at war, Ned spends his summer holidays hunting and trapping rabbits so he can sell their pelts for making slouch hats. Outwardly, he claims this to be his very own war effort, but deep inside he has a dream that he can barely even admit to himself - he wants to save the money to buy a boat.
Almost goaded into confiding his plans to best mate, Jackbird, Ned soon finds his dream turning into an unstoppable force. But with no recent news of his deployed brothers, and the orchard failing, Ned struggles to reconcile his own potential happiness and fulfilment with the grim realities of family responsibility.
I enjoyed every moment spent in Ned's company, as he grew from teen to man to father. I cheered his successes and felt empathy for his losses. I shed a tear at the perfect ending.
With thanks to NetGalley and Text Publishing for the opportunity to read and review an advance copy. Please note that the text quoted above may have changed by publication date.
September 13, 2023
Limberlost switches focus between the summer of Ned’s fifteenth year and his adult life as a productive husband and father. But as I struggled to summarise the book in a way that would make sense, I stumbled over the “About the Book” section that prefaces the story, and it so perfectly describes it (so succinct and beautiful!) that I’m going to include it here:
Rarely have I read a book so atmospheric and beautifully-written that it transported me so I felt I actually resided within it. Limberlost is one of those books. I was so invested in the West family. I didn’t want the story to end because I knew I was going to miss them. And I do; I really do.
5 “Staggeringly-beautiful” stars⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
In the heat of a long summer Ned hunts rabbits in a river valley, hoping the pelts will earn him enough money to buy a small boat. His two brothers are away at war, their whereabouts unknown. His father and older sister struggle to hold things together on the family orchard, Limberlost. Desperate to ignore it all—to avoid the future rushing towards him—Ned dreams of open water. As his story unfolds over the following decades, we see how Ned’s choices that summer come to shape the course of his life, the fate of his family and the future of the valley, with its seasons of death and rebirth.Limberlost is my third novel by Robbie Arnott and, without question, my favourite! I enjoyed his first two—Flames and The Rain Heron—but both contained “magical realism”. I’m not much of a fan of that genre, so I’ll admit that the very BEST thing about Limberlost is that it contains NO magical realism! (Mr. Arnott, please take note.😉)
Rarely have I read a book so atmospheric and beautifully-written that it transported me so I felt I actually resided within it. Limberlost is one of those books. I was so invested in the West family. I didn’t want the story to end because I knew I was going to miss them. And I do; I really do.
5 “Staggeringly-beautiful” stars⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
August 10, 2024
Great audio. on the short list for the Miles Franklin prize 2023. Narrated beautifully by Zoe Carides
A coming of age story with magnificent nature descriptions, wild animals, rabbits and Men messing around in boats in Tasmania.
This is my third Arnott book. This Australian fiction writer who writes about the nature of this wild land is a favorite. I find his work magical and this is no exception.
It begins with rumors of a whale gone mad at the mouth of a river, destroying fishing boats, making high pitched ancient sounds and its fluke seen breaking the water repeatedly. This whale both begins and ends this coming of age story.
The novel has two timelines, the first, Ned, a 17 year old boy, working long summer days, trying to find ways to earn enough money to buy a small boat. Alone on his family's farm with only his father and sister for company as his two older brothers are away fighting in the last days of the World War II in the Pacific. The second timeline is the same man now grown with a farm and children of his own recalling this summer of his youth and how instrumental it was in shaping who he has become.
"He suddenly felt very old. Felt the distance between his youth and what he was now. He flexed his wrists, touched his face, wondered if the troubled boy of that summer would recognize the man he'd become."
The story centers around the buying of that boat he worked so hard for and the trapping and then the healing of a Quoll, a type of wild cat of the forests close to the family ranch. Small events play big roles in this story and there is a wild beauty in both the telling and the words. The life here is not an easy one and it has a truth in the telling that I found hard to put down. As Ned goes back over events he begins to wonder if he is remembering the details and wether they are that important.
"He realized his recollections might not be as clear as he'd assumed. It was a horrible sensation, feeling that the facts of his life had blurred. He wondered if his past was slipping away?"
A wonderful read. The writing gave me a chance to picture and explore a part of the world I have not seen and to experience how a boy grows into a man and reflects on events that played an important part. Really so good it is hard for me to describe. A simple story with great power.
A coming of age story with magnificent nature descriptions, wild animals, rabbits and Men messing around in boats in Tasmania.
This is my third Arnott book. This Australian fiction writer who writes about the nature of this wild land is a favorite. I find his work magical and this is no exception.
It begins with rumors of a whale gone mad at the mouth of a river, destroying fishing boats, making high pitched ancient sounds and its fluke seen breaking the water repeatedly. This whale both begins and ends this coming of age story.
The novel has two timelines, the first, Ned, a 17 year old boy, working long summer days, trying to find ways to earn enough money to buy a small boat. Alone on his family's farm with only his father and sister for company as his two older brothers are away fighting in the last days of the World War II in the Pacific. The second timeline is the same man now grown with a farm and children of his own recalling this summer of his youth and how instrumental it was in shaping who he has become.
"He suddenly felt very old. Felt the distance between his youth and what he was now. He flexed his wrists, touched his face, wondered if the troubled boy of that summer would recognize the man he'd become."
The story centers around the buying of that boat he worked so hard for and the trapping and then the healing of a Quoll, a type of wild cat of the forests close to the family ranch. Small events play big roles in this story and there is a wild beauty in both the telling and the words. The life here is not an easy one and it has a truth in the telling that I found hard to put down. As Ned goes back over events he begins to wonder if he is remembering the details and wether they are that important.
"He realized his recollections might not be as clear as he'd assumed. It was a horrible sensation, feeling that the facts of his life had blurred. He wondered if his past was slipping away?"
A wonderful read. The writing gave me a chance to picture and explore a part of the world I have not seen and to experience how a boy grows into a man and reflects on events that played an important part. Really so good it is hard for me to describe. A simple story with great power.
October 27, 2023
My thanks to the Text Publishing Co for a review copy of this book via Edelweiss.
A coming-of-age story, the story of a memorable summer, of dreams (dreamt, achieved, shattered), of a young man from Tasmania from his teen years to old age, of Tasmania itself or at least a sense of it from its farms, waters, landscape, a beautiful and poignant story, a story of life with its moments of loneliness, anxiety and tragedy but also happiness, pride, and satisfaction. Limberlost (2022) by Robbie Arnott is a wonderful read, though for me personally there were the difficult moments since there is hunting involved.
In the book, we meet 15-year-old Ned West, youngest of four siblings living on his father’s apple orchard, Limberlost. It is the midst of the war, and both older brothers, Bill and Toby are deployed—Toby heard from off and on, but no news of Bill. The oldest of the children, Maggie, a school teacher and the only one to have any memories of their mother (who died just a little after Ned was born) is back on the farm but absorbed in her own cares—including the young man she loves, also away at war. Their father is looking after the orchard but also struggling with the impacts of the damage he suffered when he served in the last war leading to moments where he is lost in his own world. Ned is too young to be called up, and spends the summer trying to make his greatest dream come true—owning a boat of his own and exploring the waters, a dream that had its seeds in a boat trip taken with his father and brothers when he was a child to investigate rumours of a ‘mad’ whale at the mouth of the river. He helps on the farm of course but alongside hunts rabbits to sell the pelts and put together the money to make his dream a reality—a task that he does with great devotion and yet is hazy as to the actual requirements of. His dream is also his secret, fiercely guarded and something he wants no one to catch onto. While he has his friend Jackbird with whom he spends time fishing and having fun when time permits, his father and sister’s occupation with their own cares means even when he goes out of his way to do things for them, they are not noticed or even acknowledged leading to some heartbreak.
Interspersed with the story of this summer are chapters that follow Ned later in life, when he has grown older and working away from home, his ‘romance’ and marriage, life on his own farm, children and later years. These chapters move at a much faster pace giving us a sense of the shape his life takes and how the memories and experiences of those summer days return to him in that journey.
Life in the beautiful orchard and amidst the Tasmanian landscape is one of contrasts being lived side by side, and dilemmas (sometimes delicate yet deep) thrown up—on the one side Ned is hunting and trapping, and actively so rabbits to sell their pelts to fulfil his dream (while a commercial enterprise this is also providing pelts for hats for soldiers), on the other, he isn’t comfortable actually killing them (ones caught in his traps who are still alive for instance). But in this process when a quoll (a marsupial native to Australia) is caught in one of his traps and badly injured, the fact that it’s pelt might fetch him a good price does not prevent him from taking in and looking after the injured quoll (who does have sharp teeth and does bite), nursing him to health. Concern and love and feeling for animals exists, but side by side the reality that as pests (for farms and gardens) some may have to be destroyed. Such dilemmas exist in the relationship with the land too, for instance later in life his daughters can bring up the idea of ‘invasion’ and the need to restore land to the indigenous populations easily while Ned who has put in his blood, sweat and toil into it, has his own deep attachment to it, and speaking of giving up isn’t a simple question. Other aspects of life too, such as dreams versus practicalities throw up such dilemmas showing that life is anything but black and white.
The relationships that Ned navigates with his family are delicate too, with both father and sister sometimes seeming entirely unconcerned with him or anything he does, but at others showing surprising sides too. There are plenty of moments that make one smile, as much as there are those of heartbreak.
Ned is a character one enjoys following and roots for—and indeed feels for in every one of the ups and downs that face him; the others too are wonderful, real creations—no heroes or villains here just people with things one loves about them and also their little flaws.
This is a beautiful and enjoyable read, evoking all sorts of emotions, incorporating nature, love for it but alongside also the realities of life that must be faced. I had never read Arnott before but coming across this one in a review by Susan from A Life in Books wanted to give it a try and am so glad I did. The sections which involved hunting and harm to animals (never too graphic, even if a little descriptive) were needless to say very hard for me but not entirely unbearable. Will certainly be looking up more of his works.
4.5 stars
A coming-of-age story, the story of a memorable summer, of dreams (dreamt, achieved, shattered), of a young man from Tasmania from his teen years to old age, of Tasmania itself or at least a sense of it from its farms, waters, landscape, a beautiful and poignant story, a story of life with its moments of loneliness, anxiety and tragedy but also happiness, pride, and satisfaction. Limberlost (2022) by Robbie Arnott is a wonderful read, though for me personally there were the difficult moments since there is hunting involved.
In the book, we meet 15-year-old Ned West, youngest of four siblings living on his father’s apple orchard, Limberlost. It is the midst of the war, and both older brothers, Bill and Toby are deployed—Toby heard from off and on, but no news of Bill. The oldest of the children, Maggie, a school teacher and the only one to have any memories of their mother (who died just a little after Ned was born) is back on the farm but absorbed in her own cares—including the young man she loves, also away at war. Their father is looking after the orchard but also struggling with the impacts of the damage he suffered when he served in the last war leading to moments where he is lost in his own world. Ned is too young to be called up, and spends the summer trying to make his greatest dream come true—owning a boat of his own and exploring the waters, a dream that had its seeds in a boat trip taken with his father and brothers when he was a child to investigate rumours of a ‘mad’ whale at the mouth of the river. He helps on the farm of course but alongside hunts rabbits to sell the pelts and put together the money to make his dream a reality—a task that he does with great devotion and yet is hazy as to the actual requirements of. His dream is also his secret, fiercely guarded and something he wants no one to catch onto. While he has his friend Jackbird with whom he spends time fishing and having fun when time permits, his father and sister’s occupation with their own cares means even when he goes out of his way to do things for them, they are not noticed or even acknowledged leading to some heartbreak.
Interspersed with the story of this summer are chapters that follow Ned later in life, when he has grown older and working away from home, his ‘romance’ and marriage, life on his own farm, children and later years. These chapters move at a much faster pace giving us a sense of the shape his life takes and how the memories and experiences of those summer days return to him in that journey.
Life in the beautiful orchard and amidst the Tasmanian landscape is one of contrasts being lived side by side, and dilemmas (sometimes delicate yet deep) thrown up—on the one side Ned is hunting and trapping, and actively so rabbits to sell their pelts to fulfil his dream (while a commercial enterprise this is also providing pelts for hats for soldiers), on the other, he isn’t comfortable actually killing them (ones caught in his traps who are still alive for instance). But in this process when a quoll (a marsupial native to Australia) is caught in one of his traps and badly injured, the fact that it’s pelt might fetch him a good price does not prevent him from taking in and looking after the injured quoll (who does have sharp teeth and does bite), nursing him to health. Concern and love and feeling for animals exists, but side by side the reality that as pests (for farms and gardens) some may have to be destroyed. Such dilemmas exist in the relationship with the land too, for instance later in life his daughters can bring up the idea of ‘invasion’ and the need to restore land to the indigenous populations easily while Ned who has put in his blood, sweat and toil into it, has his own deep attachment to it, and speaking of giving up isn’t a simple question. Other aspects of life too, such as dreams versus practicalities throw up such dilemmas showing that life is anything but black and white.
The relationships that Ned navigates with his family are delicate too, with both father and sister sometimes seeming entirely unconcerned with him or anything he does, but at others showing surprising sides too. There are plenty of moments that make one smile, as much as there are those of heartbreak.
Ned is a character one enjoys following and roots for—and indeed feels for in every one of the ups and downs that face him; the others too are wonderful, real creations—no heroes or villains here just people with things one loves about them and also their little flaws.
This is a beautiful and enjoyable read, evoking all sorts of emotions, incorporating nature, love for it but alongside also the realities of life that must be faced. I had never read Arnott before but coming across this one in a review by Susan from A Life in Books wanted to give it a try and am so glad I did. The sections which involved hunting and harm to animals (never too graphic, even if a little descriptive) were needless to say very hard for me but not entirely unbearable. Will certainly be looking up more of his works.
4.5 stars
July 12, 2022
One of the most impressive things about Robbie Arnott’s work is that he just goes from strength to strength, each book better than the previous one. He renders the natural world beautifully always, but especially in this book. It’s always interesting when fiction bleeds into your day-to-day life and reading this while chopping and stacking southern mahogany brought the task (and the wood) to life. Coming of age always feels far too simplistic a description for books but in Limberlost we see Ned the boy transform into Ned the man. It’s about our own mythologies that we carry through life and how spur of the moment decisions can shape us. But what it is more than anything is beautiful and precise and tender and true.
September 20, 2023
Arnott’s descriptions of this beautiful country we live in and often take for granted are just mesmerising. I am left thinking of Tim Winton. I plan on a re-read as there is so much to take in.
August 29, 2024
This is a coming of age story with beautiful nature writing. This book jumps backward and forward in time across a long life. But much of the focus is on the main character's youth, his projects and how they succeed or fail. The author is a keen observer of human experience.
Recommended
Recommended
September 27, 2023
Having read Arnott's two previous novels you could forgive me for expecting more magic-realist shenanigans in his third novel. How wrong I was, from the discarded shell of the magic-realist form emerges Arnott's best work yet. Though the magic may be gone in theme, Arnott still casts his writing over you like a spell. If anything his dreamlike prose packs more punch when dealing with gritty reality. According to interviews we have Arnott's own grandfather (on who Ned's story is based) to thank for this turn to the real. Thank you Pop!
Arnott's use of silence is stunning. His ability to capture the Australian male and all the quiet yet heavy baggage they're carrying is preternatural. Many will sense a hint of Tim Winton on the breeze of Arnott's prose. There will also definitely be comparisons to his fellow Tasmanian Richard Flanagan and particularly his work The Narrow Road to the Deep North. But Flanagan's work deals more with the men who went to war and how it changed them, where Arnott addresses the people left behind and how their brother's, father's, or son's absences changed them. Like Flanagan, Arnott has the ability to capture meaning in the unsaid. While we get a lot of internal thoughts from Ned and things he wants to say but doesn't, it's the silence from his father that really speaks the loudest. Ned's father comments "there's so much Ned still doesn't know", yet there's no one to teach him. The costs of war we often forget are the scars on those left behind, the secondary victims of war, who spend their life waiting for the return of their loved ones.
In many ways Limberlost is a war novel with no war; and a bildungsroman with no growth. What doesn't happen is just as important as what does. While the main heartbeat of the novel is Ned's summer as a teenager, we also have sections dedicated to him as a young man, a husband, father, and grandfather.
Arnott sets his bait at the start of the story with the promise of a fearsome sea monster. It reminded me a lot of this Wener Herzog quote.
"What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark? It would be like sleep without dreams."
One might say what would a novel be without a monster lurking in its pages?
You can feel the pull of that monster lurking in both the narrative and Ned's unconscious. But then as the pages turn the monster is no longer pulling us through the story. Arnott baits another hook with Ned's future wife, who isn't named until much later, even though we feel confident about her identity given his childhood friends. These techniques are artfully done and show Arnott's considerable skill. The art of slowly submerging the need to know what happened into the narrative; such that when we reach it, it's buried in us just like its buried in Ned, will make this book memorable for many years to come.
I've read reviews with people expressing dissatisfaction with the handling of colonial dispossession in Tasmania. This book is an ode to Arnott's grandfather and as such needs to be told in a way that is true. It would have been disingenuous to have Ned, a member of the silent generation, give his farm back to traditional indigenous owners. I actually feel the topic was dealt with in the most natural way possible. Ned recognises people came before, he learns the stories of the "old people" but he is mostly caught up in trying to survive, he is a product of his time, just as his more "progressive" daughters are products of theirs.
I mentioned earlier that this was a bildungsroman with no growth. Some might then reason it's not a bildungsroman at all. The fact is that Ned doesn't really grow anything but old. He never learns to speak his mind or change his ways. The boy becomes a man but his personality and beliefs were set while his brothers were at war and he helped his grief stricken father and sister try to keep the family orchard going.
It would be remiss of me to not mention the boat and Huon pine. We have a few objects made from Huon pine in our house and the smell certainly is intoxicating; Arnott's depiction is excellent. The wood's lustre is also alluring and when combined with the smell certainly seems to hint at magical properties. It's interesting because the same allure of Huon Pine is matched by the allure of Kauri in New Zealand. It has a hold over some men much like gold. This hold is evidenced by the man who buys Ned's boat; he wants to own it just to call it his. Arnott's use of the Huon features as another repository for his magic-realist tendencies and you can tell he's itching to give the Huon even more properties than it has, so I commend him on his restraint.
I went in to Limberlost expecting a gradual improvement of Arnott's magic-realist approach and what I got instead was an accomplished coming of age story set during the Second World War. This book sits comfortably with other Australian war classics like Fly Away Peter,The Great World, and The Narrow Road to the Deep North. I'll definitely be re-visiting it in a few years.
Arnott's use of silence is stunning. His ability to capture the Australian male and all the quiet yet heavy baggage they're carrying is preternatural. Many will sense a hint of Tim Winton on the breeze of Arnott's prose. There will also definitely be comparisons to his fellow Tasmanian Richard Flanagan and particularly his work The Narrow Road to the Deep North. But Flanagan's work deals more with the men who went to war and how it changed them, where Arnott addresses the people left behind and how their brother's, father's, or son's absences changed them. Like Flanagan, Arnott has the ability to capture meaning in the unsaid. While we get a lot of internal thoughts from Ned and things he wants to say but doesn't, it's the silence from his father that really speaks the loudest. Ned's father comments "there's so much Ned still doesn't know", yet there's no one to teach him. The costs of war we often forget are the scars on those left behind, the secondary victims of war, who spend their life waiting for the return of their loved ones.
In many ways Limberlost is a war novel with no war; and a bildungsroman with no growth. What doesn't happen is just as important as what does. While the main heartbeat of the novel is Ned's summer as a teenager, we also have sections dedicated to him as a young man, a husband, father, and grandfather.
Arnott sets his bait at the start of the story with the promise of a fearsome sea monster. It reminded me a lot of this Wener Herzog quote.
"What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark? It would be like sleep without dreams."
One might say what would a novel be without a monster lurking in its pages?
You can feel the pull of that monster lurking in both the narrative and Ned's unconscious. But then as the pages turn the monster is no longer pulling us through the story. Arnott baits another hook with Ned's future wife, who isn't named until much later, even though we feel confident about her identity given his childhood friends. These techniques are artfully done and show Arnott's considerable skill. The art of slowly submerging the need to know what happened into the narrative; such that when we reach it, it's buried in us just like its buried in Ned, will make this book memorable for many years to come.
I've read reviews with people expressing dissatisfaction with the handling of colonial dispossession in Tasmania. This book is an ode to Arnott's grandfather and as such needs to be told in a way that is true. It would have been disingenuous to have Ned, a member of the silent generation, give his farm back to traditional indigenous owners. I actually feel the topic was dealt with in the most natural way possible. Ned recognises people came before, he learns the stories of the "old people" but he is mostly caught up in trying to survive, he is a product of his time, just as his more "progressive" daughters are products of theirs.
I mentioned earlier that this was a bildungsroman with no growth. Some might then reason it's not a bildungsroman at all. The fact is that Ned doesn't really grow anything but old. He never learns to speak his mind or change his ways. The boy becomes a man but his personality and beliefs were set while his brothers were at war and he helped his grief stricken father and sister try to keep the family orchard going.
It would be remiss of me to not mention the boat and Huon pine. We have a few objects made from Huon pine in our house and the smell certainly is intoxicating; Arnott's depiction is excellent. The wood's lustre is also alluring and when combined with the smell certainly seems to hint at magical properties. It's interesting because the same allure of Huon Pine is matched by the allure of Kauri in New Zealand. It has a hold over some men much like gold. This hold is evidenced by the man who buys Ned's boat; he wants to own it just to call it his. Arnott's use of the Huon features as another repository for his magic-realist tendencies and you can tell he's itching to give the Huon even more properties than it has, so I commend him on his restraint.
I went in to Limberlost expecting a gradual improvement of Arnott's magic-realist approach and what I got instead was an accomplished coming of age story set during the Second World War. This book sits comfortably with other Australian war classics like Fly Away Peter,The Great World, and The Narrow Road to the Deep North. I'll definitely be re-visiting it in a few years.
November 9, 2022
A relatively straightforward but beautifully written and ultimately touching novel.
Robbie Arnott is a real storyteller who doesn't need spectacular events to engage the reader.
In 'Limberlost', Ned, an adolescent boy growing up on the Limberlost apple orchard (I believe in Tasmania), has a dream of one day buying a boat as he discovers a talent for catching rabbits and selling their furs. His two older brothers have been called to arms and Ned is alone with his strong but silent father. There are flash forwards and we slowly learn what has become of Ned's dreams, his brothers and the people in the valley.
I loved Arnott's previous novel, the Rain Heron, which had more magic realism in it and was something of an eco-thriller. This one has nothing supernatural and is simpler, but nature, countryside and animals play an equally important role.
4,5 rounded up.
Thanks to the publisher for an ARC via Edelweiss, I was highly anticipating this one!
Robbie Arnott is a real storyteller who doesn't need spectacular events to engage the reader.
In 'Limberlost', Ned, an adolescent boy growing up on the Limberlost apple orchard (I believe in Tasmania), has a dream of one day buying a boat as he discovers a talent for catching rabbits and selling their furs. His two older brothers have been called to arms and Ned is alone with his strong but silent father. There are flash forwards and we slowly learn what has become of Ned's dreams, his brothers and the people in the valley.
I loved Arnott's previous novel, the Rain Heron, which had more magic realism in it and was something of an eco-thriller. This one has nothing supernatural and is simpler, but nature, countryside and animals play an equally important role.
4,5 rounded up.
Thanks to the publisher for an ARC via Edelweiss, I was highly anticipating this one!
August 18, 2025
Cofre de agosto de la Librería Ambulante y primer libro del verano que he podido leer a ratitos de playa, lo que seguramente ha contribuido a mejores sensaciones, porque su lectura me ha parecido amable y cálida como el sol a primera hora de la mañana.
Dos hilos narrativos me han fascinado: la barca de madera de pino Huon, y el dasiuro herido. Están tan bien conseguida la oscilación emocional del pequeño Ned en cada momento que para mí ha cobrado vida.
La barca como lema recurrente de toda la historia, primero como ilusión con la idea de salir al encuentro de la ballena, el esfuerzo por conseguirla, y después como realidad, la libertad de navegar, las obligaciones que conlleva, y la lección de vida en su primer atisbo de madurez. He vuelto a sentirme niño.
Y también he disfrutado mucho con los pasajes con el dasiuro. Quienes hemos tenido animales desde pequeños hemos sentido la autenticidad de las emociones de Ned en la captura y sanación del dasiuro, asumiendo la responsabilidad de sus cuidados, y qué emocionante ha sido el pasaje de su liberación, olisqueando lo puro que era todo.
Entiendo que pudiera generar reseñas negativas porque el tono a veces se atasca, los saltos de tiempo son muy abruptos cuando recrea la vida adulta, es muy difícil imaginar a Ned como sufrido marido y padre de tres niñas, sin apenas contexto para situarlo. Yo los he tomado simplemente como "flashforward" y entendidos así me han gustado, por saber qué será del protagonista en su vida posterior.
Mientras leía desde Almería pensaba que una linea recta hacia el centro de la tierra saldría en algún lugar cercano a Limberlost, tan lejos y tan cerca... Bueno, en realidad sería en Nueva Zelanda y habría que surcar el mar de Tasmania hasta llegar a Limberlost, la idea es que son emociones universales las que esta novela consigue transmitir.
Dos hilos narrativos me han fascinado: la barca de madera de pino Huon, y el dasiuro herido. Están tan bien conseguida la oscilación emocional del pequeño Ned en cada momento que para mí ha cobrado vida.
La barca como lema recurrente de toda la historia, primero como ilusión con la idea de salir al encuentro de la ballena, el esfuerzo por conseguirla, y después como realidad, la libertad de navegar, las obligaciones que conlleva, y la lección de vida en su primer atisbo de madurez. He vuelto a sentirme niño.
Y también he disfrutado mucho con los pasajes con el dasiuro. Quienes hemos tenido animales desde pequeños hemos sentido la autenticidad de las emociones de Ned en la captura y sanación del dasiuro, asumiendo la responsabilidad de sus cuidados, y qué emocionante ha sido el pasaje de su liberación, olisqueando lo puro que era todo.
Entiendo que pudiera generar reseñas negativas porque el tono a veces se atasca, los saltos de tiempo son muy abruptos cuando recrea la vida adulta, es muy difícil imaginar a Ned como sufrido marido y padre de tres niñas, sin apenas contexto para situarlo. Yo los he tomado simplemente como "flashforward" y entendidos así me han gustado, por saber qué será del protagonista en su vida posterior.
Mientras leía desde Almería pensaba que una linea recta hacia el centro de la tierra saldría en algún lugar cercano a Limberlost, tan lejos y tan cerca... Bueno, en realidad sería en Nueva Zelanda y habría que surcar el mar de Tasmania hasta llegar a Limberlost, la idea es que son emociones universales las que esta novela consigue transmitir.
November 1, 2022
A tale that I thought I knew of those Australians living at home, eking out a living from the land during WW2. Of a boy shooting and skinning rabbits for money, of boats, of wildlife and native forests. Of waiting to see if young men return home. But this is made fresh by the quality of the author's writing.
I'd been getting a bit tired of child narrators but I think Ned is my favourite of all the child narrators I've read this year.
Very different to his previous two books that involved a lot of magical realism, this one is made magical in the telling. Beautifully done.
I'd been getting a bit tired of child narrators but I think Ned is my favourite of all the child narrators I've read this year.
Very different to his previous two books that involved a lot of magical realism, this one is made magical in the telling. Beautifully done.
Read
February 8, 2024The following book reviews have been shared by Text Publishing – publisher of Limberlost
‘Robbie Arnott is the sort of young writer we all hoped would emerge in Australia, a Conrad-like storyteller whose tales always tremble on the edge of the mythic and legendary. And as well as being a splendid narrator of tales, he has a quality too easily overlooked now. He writes beautifully! May his readers and his rewards abound!’
Thomas Keneally
‘Limberlost is as close to flawless as any book I have read in years. The poise and precision of Arnott’s writing lends restraint to the fury at Limberlost’s heart.’
Jessie Greengrass, author of The High House
‘Spectacular and stunning…Deeply moving.’
Nick Bradley, author of The Cat and the City
‘An exquisitely moving and intimate story that is more rooted in realism than Arnott’s previous works, but still carries the wonder and subtle magic his writing is known for…Arnott masterfully explores masculinity, brotherhood and familial love…Limberlost is another astonishing book from one of Australia’s most electrifying young authors.’
Books+Publishing
‘Ned—with his shame and pride—blazes his way into your heart. A tender, soaring novel from one of Australia’s finest writers.’
Sisonke Msimang
‘An unforgettable story, humble, transporting, and filled with grace and bravery. It’s one of the strongest things I’ve read for a very long time.’
Cynan Jones, author of The Dig and Cove
‘Robbie Arnott’s best so far…Perfectly balanced, just exquisite.’
Rachel Edwards
‘Robbie Arnott is a tremendously talented and unique voice in Australian literature, and his third novel, Limberlost, exceeded all my expectations. It is a gorgeously written coming-of-age novel…a touching and profound depiction of connection, grief and familial love…Limberlost is much more grounded in realism than Arnott’s previous novels…but still holds the same sense of wonder.’
Readings
‘In Limberlost magic lies in lyrical language and the powerfully real characters brought to life through it…This is a novel about the deepest of emotions, about love, the fear of loss, and about joy.’
Age/SMH
‘This book is something special: tender, sad, exceptionally well written [and] unexpectedly moving.’
Ashleigh Wilson
‘Limberlost is an immersive experience, a story that is deeply embedded in the language of its environment…Though Arnott has cast fabulism aside, [this novel] retains a mythic quality…Scaled right down to a single, humble life, Limberlost is lit up by the energy of that life’s relationships. It serves as a reminder of the complicated position humans occupy, tangled as we are in the webs of interdependence, of pain and responsibility and care, that bind us to a world much greater than ourselves.’
Jennifer Mills, Australian Book Review
‘It’s immersive, it’s emotional…A beautiful book…Glorious.’
Mel Bush, ABC Radio Hobart
‘Arnott’s style has tempered into something rich and singing…[His] writing of the natural world is elegiac and elemental…[Limberlost has] a breathtakingly moving final scene.’
Imogen Dewey, Guardian Australia
‘Quiet wisdom [conveyed in a] potent and exquisitely crafted depiction of the delicate relationship between people and place.’
Matilda Bookshop
‘I’m tearing up even thinking about the end—it really got me. This will win a lot of awards, I think, and deservedly so.’
Cassie McCullagh, ABC RN Bookshelf
‘Such a beautiful book…It’s almost a Patrick White-ish evocation of the inner world…It’s one of those books that just rings and echoes. It creates such powerful emotional sense and such powerful visual sense…A magnificent piece of work.’
Jonathan Green, ABC RN Bookshelf
‘Simmers with a pastoral spirituality…[A] novel of considerable charm.’
Kill Your Darlings
‘The ambition of Limberlost and the complex questioning that underpins it are fascinating and lend the book a hauntedness that is deeply affecting. Ned’s sensitivity, his striving and his jumbled, tightly held emotions are always handled with great subtlety, and Arnott’s deep compassion for his characters and willingness to leave space for all that is unanswerable make Limberlost a striking book, with lingering resonance and great heart.’
Fiona Wright, Saturday Paper
‘[Limberlost] is a beautifully-written and moving novel, and certainly one of the best books I’ve read all year…A coming-of-age story which lasts a lifetime.’
David Griggs, Through the Biblioscope
‘Limberlost is a tender study of the dangers of averting our gaze…[with] vivid writing of the more-than-human world.’
Megan Cheong, Sydney Review of Books
‘[Limberlost] is thoughtful, insightful realism in exquisite prose…[it] is a beautiful textured novel.’
ANZ LitLovers
‘Arnott is one of the most exciting authors in Australia…He completes his literary hat-trick with Limberlost, a stunning novel…This is a book about violence and fear, but there’s a great tenderness, too…Not a word is wasted. Limberlost is powerful, lyrical and packs a hell of an emotional punch. It’s one of the best books I’ve read this year.’
Claire Nichols, ABC Arts
‘Creatures loom wondrously in this lyrical novel…The animal kingdom around Ned bursts with language…Powerful…As the novel progresses Arnott ventures into more wistful territory…[He expertly] captures Ned’s autumn of life.’
Robert Collins, Sunday Times (UK)
‘Arnott’s writing has understated elegance and lilts to poetic rhythms. Its beauty hides an emotional punch made more powerful by its slow reveal…The writing is magnificent, and the characterisation of Ned is superb. A must-read novel.’
Good Reading
‘Extraordinarily imaginative…His writing is so exquisite…Full of striking images.’
Kate Evans, ABC TV Weekend Breakfast
‘The magic is definitely present in [Limberlost] in the power of [Robbie Arnott’s] writing…Australian fiction at its best.’
Coast Magazine
‘[Arnott’s] ability to write sublimely about nature has never been in doubt. But what characterises Limberlost as a triumph is how the author manages to illustrate the simple poignancy of human drama.’
Meanjin
‘Limberlost is frequently exquisite…Its writing is alert to the language and imagery of mythology, and attuned to the living world…Arnott writes beautiful sentences.’
Jen Webb, Conversation
‘The descriptions of the natural world are wonderfully vivid.’
Daily Mail (UK)
‘A luminously told, whole-life story of a young boy discovering how to be his own man…Arnott has an eye and an ear for description that can elevate otherwise quiet moments to something genuinely transcendent.’
Melissa Harrison, Guardian (UK)
‘Tender and often exquisitely moving…An intimate portrait…Limberlost doesn’t claim to answer all of the complex questions it raises…However, in its haunted quality and understated sense of wonder, it does succeed in capturing some of the complexity of our relationships with the natural world.’
Gemma Nisbet, West Australian
‘Arnott’s third novel carries echoes of Ernest Hemingway’s masterpiece…It could be read as a sort of The Young Man and the Sea: a beautiful, pared-back exploration of masculinity, and the sustaining nature of dreams…Limberlost is a sensory rollercoaster. Arnott’s writing is unadorned, but thrillingly visceral…The joy of Limberlost, beyond the writing, is that, in Arnott’s rendering, nature is not always something to be wondered at, then subdued. The book is flecked with violence and rot, but there is much tenderness, too.’
Dani Garavelli, Big Issue (UK)
‘Masterful storytelling.’
BookPeople
‘Unutterably beautiful.’
Gleebooks
‘There is mastery in the way [Robbie Arnott] captures the beauty and ferocity of the natural environment…Limberlost tracks the texture of memory and time…The essence of longing saturates the narrative, for a time lost and a future yet to be inhabited.’
Thuy On, ArtsHub
‘Finely told…[Reminds] us that the quintessence of our country…should remain indelible in our collective memory and perhaps be elevated into the realm of the heroic.’
Joy Lawn, Australian
‘Filled with wonder and reverence…Arnott has traded in the magical realism of his previous work for a deep sense of the personal, and the result is equally transcendent and immersive.’
Zachary Prior, Big Issue
‘Highly recommended…[Robbie Arnott is] at the peak of his game.’
Barry Reynolds, Herald Sun
‘Robbie Arnott is establishing himself as one of Australia's best novelists…Beautifully written…For all those people who are waiting for the next Tim Winton novel.’
Fairfield Books
‘Robbie Arnott cements his reputation as one of Australia’s most affecting storytellers…Arnott uses the colours and creatures of the natural world to populate Ned’s world.’
Thuy On, Australian
‘Sentences sublime.’
Pip Williams
‘A gem.’
Michael Winkler
‘I’ve read Robbie Arnott’s Limberlost twice already. Calling it (hopefully not cursing it) for next year’s Miles Franklin shortlist.’
Jennifer Down
‘[Limberlost] further underlines [Arnott’s] mastery of nature writing.’
Jock Serong
‘Singing prose…This coming-of-age story confirms Robbie Arnott as a masterly writer of eco-fiction.’
The Times (UK)
‘One of the great reading experiences of the year…Just perfect.’
Brian Nankervis, ABC Radio Melbourne
‘A pitch-perfect story steeped in beautiful writing about the natural world.’
Jason Steger, Age
‘The end of the story fashions an extraordinary emotional catharsis in the lead character, bringing a closure that I’ve not seen executed well elsewhere in literature. This novel will win a swag of awards in 2023, mark my words.’
Elizabeth McCarty, Triple R
‘Never have I read the natural world, or masculinity, written like it…Robbie Arnott has fundamentally (and with such terrible, aching tenderness) nailed it.’
Helen Jukes, author of A Honeybee Heart has Five Openings
‘Absolutely exquisite on every level.’
Karen Ginnane
‘Poignant…Arnott’s beautifully descriptive language shows his love of the Tasmanian landscape, as he allows Ned to find deep solace in the nature that surrounds him.’
Helena Poropat, Openbook
‘Sturdy writing about humble, decent people. [Limberlost] is the work of an author sufficiently confident in his powers that he tailors his style to the story. In so doing [Robbie Arnott] has produced a gem sure to give readers joy for years to come.’
2023 Age Book of the Year for Fiction judges comments
‘Limberlost is a book about many things—a quoll, a boat, a war, a whale—but it is often at its most profound when exploring the complex relationships between its male characters. The injuries they carry, the many ways in which they are smothered and unhappy. But also gentler shades of masculinity—their humility, dignity, quiet strength and acts of love.’
Emma Harvey, Wattle
‘Arnott writes in a lyrical and evocative way, immersing readers in the abundant and untamed beauty of the Tasmanian wilderness…He masterfully captures the awe and wonder of the natural environment…Arnott is establishing himself as one of Australia’s best novelists; Limberlost is beautifully written and for fans of Richard Flanagan and Tim Winton.’
Coast Community News
‘Limberlost is remembrance: of childhood and manhood; of land both lost and gained. It crafts a boy’s adolescence of hopeful imagining countered by the inevitable truth of duty and loss.’
Dublin Literary Awards, State Library of NSW
‘Robbie Arnott is the sort of young writer we all hoped would emerge in Australia, a Conrad-like storyteller whose tales always tremble on the edge of the mythic and legendary. And as well as being a splendid narrator of tales, he has a quality too easily overlooked now. He writes beautifully! May his readers and his rewards abound!’
Thomas Keneally
‘Limberlost is as close to flawless as any book I have read in years. The poise and precision of Arnott’s writing lends restraint to the fury at Limberlost’s heart.’
Jessie Greengrass, author of The High House
‘Spectacular and stunning…Deeply moving.’
Nick Bradley, author of The Cat and the City
‘An exquisitely moving and intimate story that is more rooted in realism than Arnott’s previous works, but still carries the wonder and subtle magic his writing is known for…Arnott masterfully explores masculinity, brotherhood and familial love…Limberlost is another astonishing book from one of Australia’s most electrifying young authors.’
Books+Publishing
‘Ned—with his shame and pride—blazes his way into your heart. A tender, soaring novel from one of Australia’s finest writers.’
Sisonke Msimang
‘An unforgettable story, humble, transporting, and filled with grace and bravery. It’s one of the strongest things I’ve read for a very long time.’
Cynan Jones, author of The Dig and Cove
‘Robbie Arnott’s best so far…Perfectly balanced, just exquisite.’
Rachel Edwards
‘Robbie Arnott is a tremendously talented and unique voice in Australian literature, and his third novel, Limberlost, exceeded all my expectations. It is a gorgeously written coming-of-age novel…a touching and profound depiction of connection, grief and familial love…Limberlost is much more grounded in realism than Arnott’s previous novels…but still holds the same sense of wonder.’
Readings
‘In Limberlost magic lies in lyrical language and the powerfully real characters brought to life through it…This is a novel about the deepest of emotions, about love, the fear of loss, and about joy.’
Age/SMH
‘This book is something special: tender, sad, exceptionally well written [and] unexpectedly moving.’
Ashleigh Wilson
‘Limberlost is an immersive experience, a story that is deeply embedded in the language of its environment…Though Arnott has cast fabulism aside, [this novel] retains a mythic quality…Scaled right down to a single, humble life, Limberlost is lit up by the energy of that life’s relationships. It serves as a reminder of the complicated position humans occupy, tangled as we are in the webs of interdependence, of pain and responsibility and care, that bind us to a world much greater than ourselves.’
Jennifer Mills, Australian Book Review
‘It’s immersive, it’s emotional…A beautiful book…Glorious.’
Mel Bush, ABC Radio Hobart
‘Arnott’s style has tempered into something rich and singing…[His] writing of the natural world is elegiac and elemental…[Limberlost has] a breathtakingly moving final scene.’
Imogen Dewey, Guardian Australia
‘Quiet wisdom [conveyed in a] potent and exquisitely crafted depiction of the delicate relationship between people and place.’
Matilda Bookshop
‘I’m tearing up even thinking about the end—it really got me. This will win a lot of awards, I think, and deservedly so.’
Cassie McCullagh, ABC RN Bookshelf
‘Such a beautiful book…It’s almost a Patrick White-ish evocation of the inner world…It’s one of those books that just rings and echoes. It creates such powerful emotional sense and such powerful visual sense…A magnificent piece of work.’
Jonathan Green, ABC RN Bookshelf
‘Simmers with a pastoral spirituality…[A] novel of considerable charm.’
Kill Your Darlings
‘The ambition of Limberlost and the complex questioning that underpins it are fascinating and lend the book a hauntedness that is deeply affecting. Ned’s sensitivity, his striving and his jumbled, tightly held emotions are always handled with great subtlety, and Arnott’s deep compassion for his characters and willingness to leave space for all that is unanswerable make Limberlost a striking book, with lingering resonance and great heart.’
Fiona Wright, Saturday Paper
‘[Limberlost] is a beautifully-written and moving novel, and certainly one of the best books I’ve read all year…A coming-of-age story which lasts a lifetime.’
David Griggs, Through the Biblioscope
‘Limberlost is a tender study of the dangers of averting our gaze…[with] vivid writing of the more-than-human world.’
Megan Cheong, Sydney Review of Books
‘[Limberlost] is thoughtful, insightful realism in exquisite prose…[it] is a beautiful textured novel.’
ANZ LitLovers
‘Arnott is one of the most exciting authors in Australia…He completes his literary hat-trick with Limberlost, a stunning novel…This is a book about violence and fear, but there’s a great tenderness, too…Not a word is wasted. Limberlost is powerful, lyrical and packs a hell of an emotional punch. It’s one of the best books I’ve read this year.’
Claire Nichols, ABC Arts
‘Creatures loom wondrously in this lyrical novel…The animal kingdom around Ned bursts with language…Powerful…As the novel progresses Arnott ventures into more wistful territory…[He expertly] captures Ned’s autumn of life.’
Robert Collins, Sunday Times (UK)
‘Arnott’s writing has understated elegance and lilts to poetic rhythms. Its beauty hides an emotional punch made more powerful by its slow reveal…The writing is magnificent, and the characterisation of Ned is superb. A must-read novel.’
Good Reading
‘Extraordinarily imaginative…His writing is so exquisite…Full of striking images.’
Kate Evans, ABC TV Weekend Breakfast
‘The magic is definitely present in [Limberlost] in the power of [Robbie Arnott’s] writing…Australian fiction at its best.’
Coast Magazine
‘[Arnott’s] ability to write sublimely about nature has never been in doubt. But what characterises Limberlost as a triumph is how the author manages to illustrate the simple poignancy of human drama.’
Meanjin
‘Limberlost is frequently exquisite…Its writing is alert to the language and imagery of mythology, and attuned to the living world…Arnott writes beautiful sentences.’
Jen Webb, Conversation
‘The descriptions of the natural world are wonderfully vivid.’
Daily Mail (UK)
‘A luminously told, whole-life story of a young boy discovering how to be his own man…Arnott has an eye and an ear for description that can elevate otherwise quiet moments to something genuinely transcendent.’
Melissa Harrison, Guardian (UK)
‘Tender and often exquisitely moving…An intimate portrait…Limberlost doesn’t claim to answer all of the complex questions it raises…However, in its haunted quality and understated sense of wonder, it does succeed in capturing some of the complexity of our relationships with the natural world.’
Gemma Nisbet, West Australian
‘Arnott’s third novel carries echoes of Ernest Hemingway’s masterpiece…It could be read as a sort of The Young Man and the Sea: a beautiful, pared-back exploration of masculinity, and the sustaining nature of dreams…Limberlost is a sensory rollercoaster. Arnott’s writing is unadorned, but thrillingly visceral…The joy of Limberlost, beyond the writing, is that, in Arnott’s rendering, nature is not always something to be wondered at, then subdued. The book is flecked with violence and rot, but there is much tenderness, too.’
Dani Garavelli, Big Issue (UK)
‘Masterful storytelling.’
BookPeople
‘Unutterably beautiful.’
Gleebooks
‘There is mastery in the way [Robbie Arnott] captures the beauty and ferocity of the natural environment…Limberlost tracks the texture of memory and time…The essence of longing saturates the narrative, for a time lost and a future yet to be inhabited.’
Thuy On, ArtsHub
‘Finely told…[Reminds] us that the quintessence of our country…should remain indelible in our collective memory and perhaps be elevated into the realm of the heroic.’
Joy Lawn, Australian
‘Filled with wonder and reverence…Arnott has traded in the magical realism of his previous work for a deep sense of the personal, and the result is equally transcendent and immersive.’
Zachary Prior, Big Issue
‘Highly recommended…[Robbie Arnott is] at the peak of his game.’
Barry Reynolds, Herald Sun
‘Robbie Arnott is establishing himself as one of Australia's best novelists…Beautifully written…For all those people who are waiting for the next Tim Winton novel.’
Fairfield Books
‘Robbie Arnott cements his reputation as one of Australia’s most affecting storytellers…Arnott uses the colours and creatures of the natural world to populate Ned’s world.’
Thuy On, Australian
‘Sentences sublime.’
Pip Williams
‘A gem.’
Michael Winkler
‘I’ve read Robbie Arnott’s Limberlost twice already. Calling it (hopefully not cursing it) for next year’s Miles Franklin shortlist.’
Jennifer Down
‘[Limberlost] further underlines [Arnott’s] mastery of nature writing.’
Jock Serong
‘Singing prose…This coming-of-age story confirms Robbie Arnott as a masterly writer of eco-fiction.’
The Times (UK)
‘One of the great reading experiences of the year…Just perfect.’
Brian Nankervis, ABC Radio Melbourne
‘A pitch-perfect story steeped in beautiful writing about the natural world.’
Jason Steger, Age
‘The end of the story fashions an extraordinary emotional catharsis in the lead character, bringing a closure that I’ve not seen executed well elsewhere in literature. This novel will win a swag of awards in 2023, mark my words.’
Elizabeth McCarty, Triple R
‘Never have I read the natural world, or masculinity, written like it…Robbie Arnott has fundamentally (and with such terrible, aching tenderness) nailed it.’
Helen Jukes, author of A Honeybee Heart has Five Openings
‘Absolutely exquisite on every level.’
Karen Ginnane
‘Poignant…Arnott’s beautifully descriptive language shows his love of the Tasmanian landscape, as he allows Ned to find deep solace in the nature that surrounds him.’
Helena Poropat, Openbook
‘Sturdy writing about humble, decent people. [Limberlost] is the work of an author sufficiently confident in his powers that he tailors his style to the story. In so doing [Robbie Arnott] has produced a gem sure to give readers joy for years to come.’
2023 Age Book of the Year for Fiction judges comments
‘Limberlost is a book about many things—a quoll, a boat, a war, a whale—but it is often at its most profound when exploring the complex relationships between its male characters. The injuries they carry, the many ways in which they are smothered and unhappy. But also gentler shades of masculinity—their humility, dignity, quiet strength and acts of love.’
Emma Harvey, Wattle
‘Arnott writes in a lyrical and evocative way, immersing readers in the abundant and untamed beauty of the Tasmanian wilderness…He masterfully captures the awe and wonder of the natural environment…Arnott is establishing himself as one of Australia’s best novelists; Limberlost is beautifully written and for fans of Richard Flanagan and Tim Winton.’
Coast Community News
‘Limberlost is remembrance: of childhood and manhood; of land both lost and gained. It crafts a boy’s adolescence of hopeful imagining countered by the inevitable truth of duty and loss.’
Dublin Literary Awards, State Library of NSW
September 8, 2022
“The spots on its pelt shone against the wood like a patterned moth, a living quilt”
Limberlost is the third novel by award-winning Australian author, Robbie Arnott. It begins in the mid-twentieth Century in rural Tasmania. At fifteen, Ned West is wary of horses, but when his older sister berates him and his father for their neglect, in her absence, of her favourite mare, all Ned wants to do is make it right.
His quiet, selfless solution unwittingly advances his progress to his fervent dream of buying a small boat, but that silver lining also has a cloud: his father’s hard-won approval is tempered by the revelation of a thoughtless act, the accidental trapping of a spotted quoll, something about which Ned feels confused and guilty.
Throughout his adult life, through work, marriage, fatherhood and into old age, significant, sometimes poignant, moments in his youth, in particular that fifteen-year-old summer, spring back into his thoughts, often jogged by the most unlikely of gestures, words or incidents.
In between waiting for word of his older brothers, absent fighting a war, and helping his father in their apple orchard, Ned’s summer school vacation was filled with trapping rabbits for pelts, fishing with his chatty friend, Jackbird, noticing Jackbird’s younger sister, Callie, and carefully nursing the caught wild creature back to health.
And unexpectedly, he found himself restoring an old dinghy to sail-worthy condition, enchanted by the wood from which it was constructed: “The odours of trees belonged to their leaves and flowers; he’d assumed timber would be mute. He wondered at his wrongness, as the wood spice filled his lungs, sank into his blood.” As he sailed the river, he imagined impressing his brothers with his skill and confidence when (if) they returned from the war.
The West family aren’t talkers: dialogue between Ned and his father, his sister and, in flashbacks, his brothers, is spare; much is implied; yet grief, financial stress, pride, disappointment are all succinctly conveyed. Ned frequently recalls his father’s pragmatic solution to his own five-year-old fear of a supposedly mad whale: “’If you’re going to fear something, boys, it’s best to understand it.’ He laid a hand on Ned’s scalp, his rough skin stilling Ned’s shivers. ‘To come right up against it.’”
It’s easy to be drawn to Arnott’s protagonist, to care about his fate: Ned West is pensive, reserved, tentative, but filled with good intentions, and completely devoid of any arrogance or guile: “These pulses of pride never lasted long. Ned wasn’t shaped to be impressed by himself”. This unassuming young man believes himself unnoticed, but his hard work and respectful attitude are not unobserved by family, friends and neighbours. The final pages can’t fail to bring a lump to the throat.
Arnott’s descriptive prose is so exquisitely beautiful, it’s hard to limit the quotes, be it just a few words: “his brothers’ faraway war-shadows” or a sentence “Falmouth kept looking at them. Stiff hair matted his scalp and fuzzed over his chin. Ned wondered if something within the man was broken or jarred. He was a loose sketch— unfinished, or in parts smudged out”.
“He was working in a logging crew to fell a large copse of manna gums— ancient hardwoods ghostly in colour and immense in height, some rising a hundred yards into the air to flail their leaves against the sky’s cheek. Aromatic, bloodlike sap ran from the wounds the men hacked into their trunks.”
And finally, “He’d likely never see the boat again, either. If he wanted to explain its uncommon beauty and the effect it had on people, including himself, especially himself, he would have to use the blunt tool of description— could not show it to anyone, and allow it to speak for itself. He didn’t even have a photograph”: Arnott’s is never a “blunt tool”. Once again, Robbie Arnott does not disappoint.
This unbiased review is from an uncorrected proof copy provided by NetGalley and Text Publishing.
Limberlost is the third novel by award-winning Australian author, Robbie Arnott. It begins in the mid-twentieth Century in rural Tasmania. At fifteen, Ned West is wary of horses, but when his older sister berates him and his father for their neglect, in her absence, of her favourite mare, all Ned wants to do is make it right.
His quiet, selfless solution unwittingly advances his progress to his fervent dream of buying a small boat, but that silver lining also has a cloud: his father’s hard-won approval is tempered by the revelation of a thoughtless act, the accidental trapping of a spotted quoll, something about which Ned feels confused and guilty.
Throughout his adult life, through work, marriage, fatherhood and into old age, significant, sometimes poignant, moments in his youth, in particular that fifteen-year-old summer, spring back into his thoughts, often jogged by the most unlikely of gestures, words or incidents.
In between waiting for word of his older brothers, absent fighting a war, and helping his father in their apple orchard, Ned’s summer school vacation was filled with trapping rabbits for pelts, fishing with his chatty friend, Jackbird, noticing Jackbird’s younger sister, Callie, and carefully nursing the caught wild creature back to health.
And unexpectedly, he found himself restoring an old dinghy to sail-worthy condition, enchanted by the wood from which it was constructed: “The odours of trees belonged to their leaves and flowers; he’d assumed timber would be mute. He wondered at his wrongness, as the wood spice filled his lungs, sank into his blood.” As he sailed the river, he imagined impressing his brothers with his skill and confidence when (if) they returned from the war.
The West family aren’t talkers: dialogue between Ned and his father, his sister and, in flashbacks, his brothers, is spare; much is implied; yet grief, financial stress, pride, disappointment are all succinctly conveyed. Ned frequently recalls his father’s pragmatic solution to his own five-year-old fear of a supposedly mad whale: “’If you’re going to fear something, boys, it’s best to understand it.’ He laid a hand on Ned’s scalp, his rough skin stilling Ned’s shivers. ‘To come right up against it.’”
It’s easy to be drawn to Arnott’s protagonist, to care about his fate: Ned West is pensive, reserved, tentative, but filled with good intentions, and completely devoid of any arrogance or guile: “These pulses of pride never lasted long. Ned wasn’t shaped to be impressed by himself”. This unassuming young man believes himself unnoticed, but his hard work and respectful attitude are not unobserved by family, friends and neighbours. The final pages can’t fail to bring a lump to the throat.
Arnott’s descriptive prose is so exquisitely beautiful, it’s hard to limit the quotes, be it just a few words: “his brothers’ faraway war-shadows” or a sentence “Falmouth kept looking at them. Stiff hair matted his scalp and fuzzed over his chin. Ned wondered if something within the man was broken or jarred. He was a loose sketch— unfinished, or in parts smudged out”.
“He was working in a logging crew to fell a large copse of manna gums— ancient hardwoods ghostly in colour and immense in height, some rising a hundred yards into the air to flail their leaves against the sky’s cheek. Aromatic, bloodlike sap ran from the wounds the men hacked into their trunks.”
And finally, “He’d likely never see the boat again, either. If he wanted to explain its uncommon beauty and the effect it had on people, including himself, especially himself, he would have to use the blunt tool of description— could not show it to anyone, and allow it to speak for itself. He didn’t even have a photograph”: Arnott’s is never a “blunt tool”. Once again, Robbie Arnott does not disappoint.
This unbiased review is from an uncorrected proof copy provided by NetGalley and Text Publishing.
October 18, 2022
A beautifully written book set in Tasmania. Ned West is a boy when the book opens and his older brothers are at war. The book follows major events in his life in an understated yet involving way. The descriptions of the natural world from the whale and its calf in the river to the quoll that Ned accidentally traps as a boy and nurses back to health; to the forest and river near his fathers apple orchard, Limberlost; and then the wonders of Huon pine that the boat is made of that he buys after shooting rabbits for their pelts. There’s more in this novel and it will stick in my mind.
January 14, 2023
Sure it’s good writing, but so descriptive and plotless it was like swimming against a current - a lot of effort for little reward. It did not help that the main character - who I think is supposed to be naive and sweet - just comes off as a clueless dolt. I had high hopes, but ultimately this was a tedious and boring read.
February 21, 2023
Limberlost is a mesmerising and bittersweet tale of childhood yearnings, the transition to adulthood, and lifelong connections to time, place and memory. While this novel doesn't feature the magical realism of Flames and The Rain Heron, Tasmanian author Robbie Arnott's writing is just as stirring and beautifully formed as his legion of fans (myself included) have come to expect.
A story unfolds of a single wartime summer during which a boy called Ned pursues a dream, nurses a secret and forges what will become a lifelong bond. I feel that to describe the plot of Limberlost at any length would be to rob future readers of a wonderous journey. Suffice to say, Robbie Arnott explores the ways in which beauty and magic, loss and nostalgia can infuse what to outward appearances might seem a simple life in northern Tasmania. Arnott's evocation of the Tasmanian landscape and the hero's interractions with animals native to the forests and waters of the Tamar (kanamaluka) are extraordinary. Several passages had me stopping to stare dumbfounded into space to absorb their impact. His writing style is deceptively simple, exploring human interractions with the natural world and the power of memory with a grace and dexterity that fully justify his reputation as one of Australia's most gifted modern writers.
I'd highly recommend Limberlost to all lovers of literary fiction. For those who have loved Robbie Arnott's previous work, I can confirm that for me this book meets every expectation I'd built in anticipation of its release. I have no doubt that it will become a feature on many Australian and international award lists over coming months.
A story unfolds of a single wartime summer during which a boy called Ned pursues a dream, nurses a secret and forges what will become a lifelong bond. I feel that to describe the plot of Limberlost at any length would be to rob future readers of a wonderous journey. Suffice to say, Robbie Arnott explores the ways in which beauty and magic, loss and nostalgia can infuse what to outward appearances might seem a simple life in northern Tasmania. Arnott's evocation of the Tasmanian landscape and the hero's interractions with animals native to the forests and waters of the Tamar (kanamaluka) are extraordinary. Several passages had me stopping to stare dumbfounded into space to absorb their impact. His writing style is deceptively simple, exploring human interractions with the natural world and the power of memory with a grace and dexterity that fully justify his reputation as one of Australia's most gifted modern writers.
I'd highly recommend Limberlost to all lovers of literary fiction. For those who have loved Robbie Arnott's previous work, I can confirm that for me this book meets every expectation I'd built in anticipation of its release. I have no doubt that it will become a feature on many Australian and international award lists over coming months.
September 8, 2022
‘It was believed that a whale had gone mad at the mouth of the river.’
Mr Arnott’s third novel is set in Tasmania’s Tamar Valley. Ned West the youngest of four siblings, lives with his widowed father and sister on the family orchard, Limberlost. His two older brothers are away at war, and Ned wants to make his own contribution to the war effort. Ned hunts rabbits and sells their pelts which the army uses to make slouch hats for the soldiers. Ned inadvertently traps a quoll, and some of the most moving passages of this story are about Ned’s efforts to nurse the quoll back to health. But Ned has bigger dreams: he would like to buy a small boat. Ned dreams of freedom on open water and is obsessed by the story he heard of a whale that went mad at the mouth of the river.
Ned buys his boat and restores it but sacrifices it to keep the family orchard going. And Ned’s future is set. He marries, inherits the orchard and makes decisions which will impact on both his family and the valley.
Mr Arnott captures the beauty of the Tamar Valley and the moods of kanamaluka/the Tamar estuary. Ned, trapped on the land but dreaming of the water, makes what he considers to be the best choices for the future.
‘A marvellous invention—a poison that filled his trees with life.’
I know this area of Tasmania and remember the orchards that have now been ripped out and largely replaced by vineyards. But like Ned, I had little knowledge of the original inhabitants of the land. Ned’s daughters remind him, while his wife fights her own battles.
Ned’s story unfolds over decades of a long life: the teenager becomes an adult, a husband and a father. Mr Arnott brings the Tamar Valley to life with his beautiful descriptions of nature and shows us some of the impacts of man.
A beautifully written novel and one I recommend highly.
Note: My thanks to NetGalley and Text Publishing for providing me with a free electronic copy of this book for review purposes.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
Mr Arnott’s third novel is set in Tasmania’s Tamar Valley. Ned West the youngest of four siblings, lives with his widowed father and sister on the family orchard, Limberlost. His two older brothers are away at war, and Ned wants to make his own contribution to the war effort. Ned hunts rabbits and sells their pelts which the army uses to make slouch hats for the soldiers. Ned inadvertently traps a quoll, and some of the most moving passages of this story are about Ned’s efforts to nurse the quoll back to health. But Ned has bigger dreams: he would like to buy a small boat. Ned dreams of freedom on open water and is obsessed by the story he heard of a whale that went mad at the mouth of the river.
Ned buys his boat and restores it but sacrifices it to keep the family orchard going. And Ned’s future is set. He marries, inherits the orchard and makes decisions which will impact on both his family and the valley.
Mr Arnott captures the beauty of the Tamar Valley and the moods of kanamaluka/the Tamar estuary. Ned, trapped on the land but dreaming of the water, makes what he considers to be the best choices for the future.
‘A marvellous invention—a poison that filled his trees with life.’
I know this area of Tasmania and remember the orchards that have now been ripped out and largely replaced by vineyards. But like Ned, I had little knowledge of the original inhabitants of the land. Ned’s daughters remind him, while his wife fights her own battles.
Ned’s story unfolds over decades of a long life: the teenager becomes an adult, a husband and a father. Mr Arnott brings the Tamar Valley to life with his beautiful descriptions of nature and shows us some of the impacts of man.
A beautifully written novel and one I recommend highly.
Note: My thanks to NetGalley and Text Publishing for providing me with a free electronic copy of this book for review purposes.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
January 22, 2023
Poetic without being precious, gentle without being slow, this sensitive rendition of a young man's growth into manhood centres around his concern to do the right thing. Male role models are missing: his two older brothers are far away, "pulled to a distant leviathan of a war, beyond scope or comprehension", his father is shut down after the loss of his wife and further belongs to an era when men would never admit to feelings. Ned, the youngest of four, senses his grip on the world as tenuous, sees the choices he makes fraught with guilt and shame. His only guidance is to seek the barely discernible approval of his father or older sister. In the isolation of Northern Tasmania, other significant relationships are more often with animals than people. To be a man, there, at the time of WW2, I suppose, demands a certain ruthlessness, but Ned seeks a path that can accommodate his tenderness and care for the creatures he encounters.
Tender, beautiful and deeply moving.
Tender, beautiful and deeply moving.
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