Sylvie lives in Burley Point, a fishing village south of the Coorong on Australia's wild southern coast.
She tries to make sense of her mother's brooding, and her father's violent moods. She worships her big brother, Dunc, but when he goes missing, she's terrified it's her fault. The bush and the birds and the endless beach are her only salvation, apart from her teacher, Miss Taylor.
Sylvie is a charming narrator with a big heart and a sharp eye for the comic moment. In the tradition of Anne Tyler, The Lost Child is a beautifully written story about family and identity and growing up. It's about what happens when the the world can never be the same again.
'An assured and bittersweet coming-of-age tale.' Books+Publishing
Suzanne McCourt is the author of THE LOST CHILD, a novel about family, identity and growing up in small town Australia during the 1950's. It will be released by Text Publishing in the UK in November, 2014, and in the US in March, 2015.
Before starting her literary career, Suzanne worked in teaching, marketing and management. She has since published a collection of poems and her prize-winning short stories have appeared in literary journals and anthologies. A keen traveller, Suzanne has sailed the Pacific with her husband, sharing their love of the sea.
Suzanne lives in Melbourne, Australia. She is currently working on her second novel, THE YEAR OF THE WOLF, set in Poland and Russia during the early twentieth century.
Praise for THE LOST CHILD:
‘The Lost Child is an assured and bittersweet coming-of-age tale with a vivid sense of time and place…The novel is a strong addition to the shelves of Australian literary fiction.'
Australian Bookseller and Publisher
'There’s a watchful intensity to McCourt’s writing, a remarkable ability to discover within the most concrete details a rich and raw emotion…a novel that is at once very familiar and entirely fresh.’
Weekend Australian Review
This book’s simple-seeming title gets more complex as it becomes apparent that there is more than one candidate for the role, and that “lost” can mean different things…the story is set south of the Coorong and that dramatic and sometimes eerie landscape is evoked with clarity and tenderness.’
Age/Sydney Morning Herald/Canberra Times
'Echoes of Tim Winton … plainspoken but deftly crafted, laced with both humour and searing sadness. Highly recommended.’
NZ Herald
‘[The Lost Child] reminds me of the quality of Ruth Park’s writing in evoking the strengths and weaknesses of a small community…and the tragedies and humour amongst the everyday…A multi-layered novel with symbolism which stays with you after the last page. A significant writer with compassion. Highly recommended for adult and YA readers.’
Hazel Edwards
‘Suzanne McCourt has with great empathy and skill created the turmoil in the mind of a little girl…a haunting story, it also demonstrates the power of the human psyche to overcome past difficulties and find ways to fully live.’
Otago Daily Times
‘…in portraying nature…McCourt’s writing is at its most fluent…she depicts the Coorong with the eye of a painter and poet…’
Australian Book Review
‘Written in beautiful, slow prose…This is a promising debut…You can’t help but be keen to see what she does next.’
Adelaide Advertiser
‘In his scholarly work, ‘The Country of Lost Children’, Peter Pierce presents a detailed analysis of the haunting presence of lost children in the history, art and literature of Australia. Suzanne McCourt’s first novel, ‘The Lost Child’, adds another disturbing narrative to the genre.’
Carmel Bird, The Guardian
‘McCourt’s writing is assured and sinuous.’
Belle Place, Readings
‘The story tugs at the heartstrings…I look forward to seeing what this author writes next.’
Waikato Times
‘A wonderful first novel…gripping and at times heart wrenching…will keep you turning the pages.’
There is a lot to like about this debut novel by Suzanne McCourt. She obviously knows the area well having grown up on the wild southern coast of South Austral and it shows in the way settings are portrayed. Some of the writing is just beautiful ‘where the sky falls into the sea and clouds spin out of the trees,’ or the ‘farms are a green rug’ and ‘I listen to the wind as it bickers and brawls.’ There are many more examples I could have plucked out. The dialogue and expressions resonate with Australian colloquialisms of the time so you ‘wouldn’t miss it for quids.' The 1950as and early sixties are portrayed very clearly and brought to life in songs of the times, fashions, and events, even to the description of Billy Graham’s voice at a crusade. Having had my own encounter with an emu once I loved the incident with the emu. The novel also shows just how behaviour and attitudes have changed over the years. While I loved a lot of the writing, at times it comes across as a bit jerky and doesn’t flow naturally from one scene to the next. It’s Sylvie’s story, so the reader sees it the world from her point of view, which is at times not as aware as it could be. There are sad and fun and tragic moments. It shows the cruelty of kids in the names they call each other and the things they say. The thing I did find is that the emphasis on the blurb and the title seems to be on the disappearance of her brother Duncan, which gives a wrong idea of what the book is about in a way. Although it is a significant event, it doesn’t happen will about half way through the novel. The story really is about family life of the times and Sylvie growing up and changing. Coming of age stories are not my favourite genre but this one works well, most of the time. I’ll be interested to see what this author writes next.
Like other reviewers have said, I feel like Sylvie was the real lost child in this story. So many things were happening around her, that no one seemed to think to check up on her very much. She seemed like an inconvenience to most people. I felt sorry for her (and her mum) most of the time. 1950s Burley Point was a hard place to live in.
The Lost Child is the first novel by Australian author, Suzanne McCourt. When Sylvie Meehan is almost five, she is living in the small fishing village of Burley Point on the southern coast of Australia, with her Mum, Nella, her Dad Mick and her older brother Dunc. Soon, she’ll be going to school, but just now she wishes her Dad loved her as much as he loves Dunc, and that her Mum and Dad could get on a bit better. She knows that her Dad doesn’t talk to Uncle Ticker, that he won’t go out to see Grandma Meehan on the property, Bindilla, but she’s not sure exactly why. She knows Aunt Cele loves Burley Point, but people are critical of the way she lives. Burley Point is a small town and she knows lots of the people there: nothing stays a secret for long. As Sylvie grows up, there are many changes she doesn’t like: Dad goes to live across the lagoon with the Trollop, Layle Lewis; Dunc is sent away to boarding school in the city; Mum takes a job at the café to make ends meet; Sylvie gets good marks at school but she hates when her classmates gossip and call her names, although her teacher, Miss Taylor, is always nice to her. But the worst thing is when Dunc goes missing, because Sylvie’s sure she is to blame. In her narration, Sylvie guilelessly relates events, incidents, her own thoughts and conversations and exchanges overheard, occasionally misinterpreting from her youthful perspective, thus slowly building for the reader a picture of the people around her and her life in this small town. Some ten years after the start of her narration, when much in her life has changed, Sylvie ponders :”What’s so good about the truth if it’s more awful than a lie?” McCourt establishes the era with references to Royal visits, movies, songs, comics and crazes, giving the novel a truly authentic feel. Readers may feel some nostalgia for dinking, riding in the back of the ute, the circus coming to town, buttered Saos, hula hoops, bride dolls, wagging school, 4711 and Phantom comics, although probably not for school sores, the effects of Thalidomide and the practice of routine tonsillectomy. The attitude to divorce and “New Australians”, six o’clock closing and evangelist rallies are also hallmarks of a bygone era. The reader is treated to some beautiful prose: “Blue has gone. His chain lies under the pines like a silver snake. On the lawn, the sprinkler hisses around like a buzzy wasp.” and “A flock of silvereyes fly out of the pines. They drop over the lagoon like a lacy cloth.” An outstanding debut novel and a very moving read.
Bitter-sweet ,sustained childhood viewpoint of Sylvie who is not the only 'lost' child in this story. Childhoods can be full of lost opportunities and casual kindnesses and cruelties. You know she will survive but the author paces the tragi-comedy in a way that reassures the reader who wants to keep reading. The writing style reminds me of the quality of Ruth Park's writing in evoking the strengths and weaknesses of a small community and the tragedies and humour amongst the everyday. Both the mother and father are credible characters whose motivations are real, but the resilience of the mother is tested.The Coorong wetlands setting is well drawn and the sense of place conveyed for the period too. Even Elvis gets a mention. And evangelist Dr Billy Graham. So does the death of JFK. A multi-layered novel with symbolism which stays with you after the last page.A significant writer. Highly recommended for adult and YA readers.
The novel opens in the 1950s, when Sylvie is five, and trying to make sense of her world. Sylvie lives with her parents and older brother Dunc, in a fishing village south of Coorong on Australia’s south coast. Her mother seems preoccupied, her father is moody, and Dunc has his own world to explore and occupy. Sylvie is invisible to her father, who has eyes only for Dunc, and for the woman he has taken up with who lives across the lagoon.
‘My father has gone. He has taken his brown skin and flashing eyes, his laughs and shouts and silences.’
When Sylvie’s father leaves, her mother tries to cope by cleaning obsessively. But it is not enough, and she is taken away to hospital for treatment. Sylvie stays with her grannie until her mother returns home.
‘Mum has come home with short hair and no words.’
When Dunc goes missing, Sylvie is terrified that somehow it is all her fault. Her mother takes refuge in her house, her father is always angry. Sylvie finds some peace in the bush or on the beach, trying to understand what has happened and why. There is no escape in such a small community and while Sylvie is old enough to describe what she sees and feels, she is not able to make sense of it. Her family has collapsed, her brother is missing - it must be her fault.
Ms McCourt captures Sylvie’s perspective beautifully. The ego-centred world of a five year old is replaced by the uncertainty and turmoil caused when her father leaves, her mother becomes ill and her brother disappears. If Sylvie is to be free herself, then she must also leave.
Seen through Sylvie’s eyes, the world is beautiful, dangerous and inexplicable. As a reader, I’m torn between understanding what Sylvie sees and experiences, trying to make sense of it for a child, and trying to make sense of it for my adult self. I wanted Sylvie to escape - in order to find herself - but I wanted her to stay so I could make sense of her experiences. Dunc is not the only lost child in this story, and as it becomes part of a reader’s reality, it’s difficult not to relate at least on some level to Sylvie’s story.
This is the kind of novel which, once read, lingers. There’s nothing simple about it.
The lost child is a WONDERFUL debut novel by Suzanne McCourt. From the first page of this book I was totally engrossed. The voice of Sylvie hooked me and never let me go. Even after finishing the book I am still back in Sylvie's world. This is the book I am going to tell anybody who will listen they MUST read. The story is told from a child's perspective, I think this is what made the voice so gripping and vulnerable. A bittersweet story beautifully told. The only thing I am disappointed about, is that this is Suzanne McCourt's first book and I can't run out and read any more she has written. A new talented Australian author, yeh!
any time anyone says they were born in the wrong time period and wished they lived in the 50s, they should be made to read this for a short sharp and bleak wake up call.
usually when other characters criticise the protagonist for being self absorbed you go "no, they're just misunderstood!" but Sylvie really is utterly self absorbed and oblivious and I spent much of the book muttering under my breath "for God's SAKE, Sylvie!"
*I should also say, of course, that this book is about a woman who has to make the hardest decision of her life, almost simultaneously with the disappearance of her son, and absolutely no one supports her. She is, in fact, punished for leaving her alcoholic and adulterous husband. The titular lost child is, in this way, the catalyst for what happens after.
What a wonderful coming-of-age story! But it's also heartbreaking and evoked a lot of emotions in me, from rage to infinite sadness and despair, speckled with some laughter (mainly through tears though). Sylvie, the protagonist, is such a great character, and I was rooting for her from the very beginning. I didn't expect this book to take me on such an emotional ride. Still, I would actually love to read a sequel! This is Suzanne McCourt's debut novel (she's published short stories and poems too) and I'm looking forward to reading more of her work in future (I've seen on her webpage that she's working on a novel set in Poland and Russia). Interestingly, she's an elderly lady, a grandmother, which proves that it's never too late to write a book - and she did an amazing job with this one.
This is a beautifully written book. The story is told by Sylvie, child of an alcoholic father and a mother who has mental health problems. They live on the Coorong, on the Southern coast of Australia, and Sylvie has a hard life. The voice is authentic, and the sense of place is wonderful. Not an easy read, the story is painful, but worth it for the great writing, and for Sylvie who is a terrific character.
This was a lovely book - a very touching story about a little girl called Sylvie growing up in a small town on the south coast of Australia in the 1950s. It is a tough childhood - her father has returned from WWII after the bombing of Darwin as an alcoholic: trying to drown the memories, and spends his time with women other than his wife. In the end, her parents are divorced, and her mother is ostracised by the small community in which they live, suffering mental problems as a result.
The book is quite simple in some respects: seeing life through the eyes of the child Sylvie, starting from age 5 and up to 15, but it has been well done - at times quite amusing and at others incredibly sad. Much more depth than many other authors' first novels, in my experience.
It has some other great characters - Sylvie's older brother Dunc plays a big part, as does his best friend Pardie. Sylvie has a number of friends in school, but none of them particularly close. Her favourite teacher is Miss Taylor (later Mrs Giancini), who encourages her learning & also shows her a family life very different to Sylvie's own experience. There is also an Aunt who is pretty 'out there' and so can be a friend as well as providing insight into the father who is so distant.
There are some lovely scenes of life - it really is a story of the time and place in which it is set: farming, wildlife (particularly birdlife) and other idiosyncrasies of the area as well as the prejudices of wall town people of the time.
There is a theme of repetition of the past from past generations - almost a 'sins of the fathers' type of thing. There is also a theme of guilt - Sylvie, her parents & others share guilt for some of the things that happen, but keep it to themselves - sharing it helps Sylvie to start to find freedom from her own. _______
A small postscript: I got to meet the author and hear her talk about the book. As I imagined when I was reading it, the story is somewhat biographical. For me, it makes it even more powerful - the vivid images that the author has drawn are connected to real people in a real place.
This is a lovely, sad novel set in 1950s and 60s regional Australia and telling the story of a young girl's coming of age, as she struggles with a neglectful father, over-stressed mother, grinding poverty and the disappearance of her brother. It's told through the child's eyes, which initially grated on me - I've read too many books recently where part of the narrative charm has been the inability of the narrator to understand things that the reader quickly figures out. I eventually warmed to the narrator, and found a lot to like in McCourt's rendering the natural beauty and harshness of her setting and the struggles of small town working class life.
I wanted never for this book to end. I was totally captivated by the voice and life of Sylvie, her family and the characters who populate her world. This 'coming of age' story covers familiar ground but does it in an original way. The landscape of the Coorong is a startling character, dialogue totally convincing. There's humour, tragedy and a story that makes the reader ache for Sylvie's well-being. As they say Suzanne McCourt just might be a writer to keep an eye on.
The author has a keen eye and ear for detail and the writing chops to deliver a tale as bleak as the winters in Burley Point. THE LOST CHILD and its cast of lost children, Sylvie, Mick, Nella, Bullfrog, Pardie, Mrs. Winkie, Uncle Ticker, Chicken McCready, Mr. Sweet, Nobby Carter, and Dunc will haunt readers long after they’ve turned the last page.
Of Suzanne McCourt’s debut, The Lost Child, the Weekend Australian writes that ‘there’s a watchful intensity to McCourt’s writing, a remarkable ability to discover within the most concrete details a rich and raw emotion’. The Lost Child takes place in Burley Point, a fishing village in southern Australia, during the 1950s, and has been compared to work by the likes of Anne Tyler and Eudora Welty.
Sylvie Meehan, our child narrator, is just four years old when the book begins. She is perceptive; she notices and relays everything which she observes, even if she does not quite understand it. McCourt constantly reminds us that she is an impressionable child: ‘I am keeping quiet and being good like Mum says I should’, she tells us quite early on. Of her father, Sylvie says, ‘He is still wearing his good shoes. I know his toes inside those shoes are as white as crayfish meat. I wish his toes would grow into crayfish legs and get caught in a crayfish pot and cooked and cracked open at the fish factory and his white toe meat plucked out by the women picking fish: that is my wish’.
The Lost Child spans the twelve subsequent years of Sylvie life, and is hailed as a ‘gut-wrenching and sophisticated coming-of-age story’. Her childhood is not an overly happy; despite having friends, she is often desperately lonely, and her parents are odds with one another. Their divorce isolates her even further. It is when her elder brother Duncan goes missing that she really begins to blame herself for her situation, thinking that his disappearance is all her fault.
From the outset, McCourt’s childlike descriptions are written so well: ‘On the mantelpiece, Mum is a bride with a mermaid tail and a frothy veil’, ‘I am full of scorching air and angry words’, ‘Mrs Crank looks like a fox with bushy, red hair’, and ‘Under the blanket, I choke on dead fairies’. Many of the sentences which the author weaves are quite enchanting, particularly in the novel’s beginning. McCourt has filled the first few chapters of The Lost Child with musings which are of the utmost importance to children, and which endear us to Sylvie in consequence: ‘I wish I had money to waste from trapping rabbits like Dunc, instead of sixpence inside a pig that I can’t get out’. The sense of place has been well built, particularly with regard to the comparisons which Sylvie makes: ‘I put my head under the blanket. I am a wombat in a hole full of hurt and hot air’, and ‘My fingers are witchetty grubs, wrinkled and white’, for example. The plot within The Lost Child is sometimes quite unexpected; one can sense that something unsavoury is about to happen, but it is not always easy to guess what that might be. A few of the scenes are quite violent, overly so at times.
Whilst the idea of The Lost Child and the use of an unreliable narrator such as Sylvie works well on the face of it, she often felt a little too wise for her age. Some of the language used by McCourt seems far too advanced for a character so young to understand, as do some of the phrases used in the stream-of-consciousness narrative: ‘We tear into the bush on the other side of the bush, crashing through bracken and banksias, wattles and heaths’, for instance. I cannot personally imagine a five-year-old crafting such a sentence.
The pacing feels a little unsuited to the plot at times too; time passes oddly in The Lost Child, so Sylvie is sometimes one or two years older from one chapter to the next, sometimes with no real indication for initial few paragraphs – or pages – that such a leap has happened. The writing style does not perceptibly mature as the novel goes on, and this gives one the feeling of a day-to-day continuation within the novel, rather than subsequent years elapsing. The only real progression which occurs is the way in which as she grows, different things occupy her mind – from pleasing her father with a gift as a four-year-old, for example, to developing a crush on her teacher when she is eleven or twelve. It is perhaps worth mentioning too that Duncan does not go missing until after the halfway point in the novel, and it seems a little strange that this incident, despite it being of the utmost importance, is given away in the book’s blurb.
Overall, my review of The Lost Child is rather a mixed one, but if you want to meet an interesting child character, I would definitely recommend picking up the novel.
This was a book that I should have enjoyed. It's set in an era in which I grew up, and in an area where I grew up. And there are some evocative descriptions of places and events in my early days.
But it's overwhelmingly depressing. The narrator's father is a cruel and violent man, and her older brother is unbelievable cruel to her. Her parents worship her brother and ignore her.
From there on it gets worse. Her father flings her pet cat at a wall, killing it; then he runs off with another woman. And her brother dies.
The cover notes declare that she is "a charming narrator with a big heart and a sharp eye for the comic moment". Sorry guys, I didn't find a comic moment anywhere in the book.
There are so many beautifully written passages in this book which is what I appreciate best about it. The story itself is very much the coming-of-age scenario told from the perspective of a young girl who grows into a teenager and trying to grapple with the challenges with family relationships, a small knit community and living just above the poverty line. It's not an uplifting book by no means but the small victories the girl achieves and experiences from which she grows are to be recognised in this book.
Wonderful novel which intrigued me from the start. Sylvie is a treat - a brilliant narrator. It's also very refreshing to have a novel set so convincingly in Australia, and also well written. Highly recommended.
The description of the environment, flora, and fauna, weather, and small coastal town characteristics were spot on , so detailed. Will be recommending to all my friends.
Ebook. Seem to be reading a number of books that are similar. Some lovely writing in here. The plot around the child’s disappearance is a bit thin. Coming of age story.
The Lost Child is a book that I read as a book club selection. It is the first novel written by Australian author Suzanne McCourt. Narrated entirely from a young girl’s perspective, Sylvie is five when the reader first meets her. The book spans a number of years set in the 1950’s-60’s, following events in Sylvie’s life as she makes the transition from child to adult. Immediately it becomes clear that Sylvie is a survivor, despite being the product of a dysfunctional family. Sylvie’s Mother is depressed while her Father is an alcoholic, also having an affair. Sylvie’s knight in shining armour is her older brother Dunc. Tragedy strikes Sylvie and her family when Dunc suddenly disappears, feared drowned. It takes many years before the family receives proper closure for Dunc’s life. The Lost Child is a very good piece of literary fiction from a debut author. Author Suzanne McCourt excels at her descriptions of the wild landscape of the tiny finishing community that Sylvie and her family reside in. The place and the people the people that inhabit it come across as wonderfully unique through McCourt’s writing. I found it interesting that the area of the South Australian coast in which the book was set was a place where attempts to find oil were made right up until the 1960’s. The time period is also well researched, with references to significant events such as Vietnam, the assassination of JFK, Elvis and the Beatles. I also deeply appreciated recalling phrases which reminded me of my childhood growing up in Australia. In terms of characters, each are well drawn. I like how Sylvie’s voice grows as she does, making this book a memorable coming of age journey. I did however find this Australian domestic drama a little slow in pace. I was extremely drawn to the mystery of the lost child, but didn’t find it nearly as captivating enough as I had hoped. It is as shame, as I appreciated the beauty of the writing, sense of place and the striking front cover was a big drawcard for me. A three and a half star rating.
The title of The Lost Child may feel like it obviously refers to the brother who goes missing, but it could easily also refer to Sylvie, a child lost between the conflict and issues of her parents, and the tragedy of her brother's disappearance. Sylvie grows up in Burley Point, an isolated, rough-as-guts coastal town on Australia's south coast. Her family has its own set of problems – her father is violent and distant, her mother is unstable and smothering. Things reach breaking point when her parents divorce and Dunc, Sylvie's brother, vanishes.
The first novel by Australian author, Suzanne McCourt, The Lost Child is simply a heart-wrenching read. There is an undercurrent of darkness and casual cruelty in Sylvie's experiences of Burley Point, where even love is poisoned with the harshness of the circumstances everyone must face.
There is, however, a lot of beauty to be found in The Lost Child. McCourt's writing is largely assured, precise and results in stunning images. McCourt also shows an ability to invoke a whole universe in just a short scene that lingers with the reader afterwards. Early on, the novel verged towards tedious – lots of things were happening, but the plot itself seemed to be stagnating – but things shortly picked up and moved towards the sublime.
Personally, I wanted more than from the ending. Most of the central conflicts of the book are resolved and things are looking more hopeful – but one of the more hidden, insidious conflicts of the book didn't feel settled enough for my liking.
However, there's no doubt in my mind that The Lost Child was a fantastic read with sublime writing.
This is a sad book as the title suggests it will be. I don't mind 'sad' if it is done really well and for the first half of this novel, it is. The novel is set south of the Coorong in South Australia - a remote, wild part of the world where the main occupations are farming and lobster fishing. The novel conveys a strong sense of place - the beauty and the loneliness of the scrub and the sea as well as the often claustrophobic nature of small town life.
The novel is narrated throughout by the character Sylvie, in the present tense. This is very effective when Sylvie is young but less so as she reaches adolescence. Sylvie's mother (Nella) is unhappy and mentally unstable and her father (Mick) is prone to violent rages. Her older brother, Duncan, is a source of strength to Sylvie and also someone who helps her appreciate the beauty of the natural world around her - especially birds. Sylvie is also sustained by her love of reading and her success at school.
Sylvie's life falls apart when Mick leaves Nella and Nella is hospitalised. After Nella returns and starts to work in the town, their lives are devastated first by the destruction of their home by fire and the by the disappearance of Duncan.
As I say, the first part of the novel is brilliantly realised but it falls away somewhat as Sylvie works her way through pain and loss to some kind of a future. Still, an excellent debut novel. Three and a half stars.
Being lost doesn't mean you are physically absent, of course, and this novel involves both kinds of lost children. It is set in 1950s-1960s coastal South Australia, and the sense of place and time is strongly evoked, through social mores and beautifully pictured landscapes. Sylvie's is the point of view that describes our interactions with her family and the town society. Her confusion, her emotions, her misapprehensions about what is going on around her provide our only clues as to unfolding events. As a five year old, her interpretations leave us wondering about what's really happening, especially when she is manipulated by the conflicting influences of her parents as their marriage fractures and breaks under the strain of PTSD and mental illness. It's about growing up, as Sylvie deals with the awkwardness of adolescence and develops an understanding about what is happening around her, but more than that, it is about what we do to each other when we are hurt and damaged, about how we try to make sense of our world, and more so about how that looked in a 1960s context, where women had to leave work when they got married, and men were expected to be strong and reliable and provide no matter what demons are tormenting them. About broken relationships.
Very readable and engaging, with a unique Australian flavour.
Both the cover of this book, with its representation of the sea and the subterranean world beneath, and the title, The Lost Child, speak of the themes of this elegant debut novel by Suzanne McCourt. There is more than one “Lost Child” in the novel, but it is through the adolescent Sylvie that the story unfolds. McCourt has skilfully managed to present the life of a broken family in a small fishing village where the social mores of the fifties meant divorce was frowned upon, through the eyes of Sylvie, leaving it to the reader to interpret the events that lay beneath the surface.
Poignant, at times humorous, and capturing the period beautifully, it is through the resilience of Sylvie that hope is offered. The Lost Child is a book which leaves you wanting to see more work from this promising novelist.
This is the sort of book that stays with you. The wild and untamed, yet strikingly beautiful backdrop of Burley Point is the perfect backdrop for this coming of age novel. Sylvie is a character who really draws you into her world. As an innocent five year old at the commencement of the story she is surrounded by complex and imperfect adults, who are caught up in their own affairs. While Sylvie is sharp as a tack, she is provided with very little time or guidance by others and has to figure out her own path of survival. Even her peers run hot and cold due to small-town biases and rumour-mongering. I especially appreciated the snippets of 1960s real-life events which help to anchor the characters into the time-period. This is the sort of book that should be shared and I'm certain it will be very popular with book clubs as there is so much depth to explore. I look forward to reading more from this wonderful Australian author.
Suzanne McCourt’s first novel ‘The Lost Child’ is a rich, raw and highly emotive debut into the literary world.
A resilient Sylvie is as hilarious, as much as she is insecure, ridden with guilt and her struggle to make sense of the unstable family life she finds herself trying to make sense of.
Set in the coastal fishing village of Burley Point in Southern Australia, young Sylvie takes the reader through multi layered facets of her understanding of things she witnesses, events that occur and conversations she overhears, with a poignancy that is deeply touching, as well as dark and painful in parts.
McCourt certainly establishes lighter moments with the lingo of the time in which this novel was set. Lots of nostalgia for those of us who remember the 50’s and 60’s from our own childhoods.
A great read that stayed with me long after turning the last page.
What is it with novelists nowadays? Do they think the only drama worth exploring is the bleak or over-sensationalized experiences bordering on melodrama? Have you noticed this is also true of movies and TV shows? So much darkness!
I seem to be picking a run of okay books but nothing to yell about from the roof tops.
'The Lost Child' is the story of Sylvie's brother, Duncan. It is also a story about lost hope and lost innocence. It was a dark read which depressed me tremendously. I kept reading because I liked Sylvie's strength of character and the way she found joy in the small moments of what was otherwise a bleak childhood. I also read in the hope of significantly better life outcomes for her. On that point, I won't say anymore.