Oblivion

by Patrick Holland

‘Before nightfall I rode a taxi through Narita. Neon-lit restaurants and bars and dark cypress. The snow and a wind from the Sea of Japan had all but cleared the streets. Cedar temples sat beneath grey skies. Vending machines lit the wet and empty paths to their gates. I told the driver to go on to the city.’
Lyrical and atmospheric. As the influence of the West falls away, an unnamed narrator drifts through the East’s floating world of non-places — chain hotels, airports, mega-cities — finalising often covert operations and deals. When he meets the enigmatic and beautiful Tien, a 21st-century floating world courtesan, he becomes involved with people and events that threaten his plan to escape life via various forms of oblivion.
Evocative and sparely written, in the tradition of The Mary Smokes Boys, this is a novel where the journey becomes the story, filled with acute observation, desire and dreams.
Praise for Patrick Holland’s
‘There is a directness and sparseness to the prose…the slow meditative tension calls to mind the dark romance of Greene’s The Quiet American.’ — Jessica Au
‘Holland is, quite simply, one of the best prose stylists working in Australia today.’ — Matthew Condon

Kindle Edition

First published July 1, 2024

About the author

Patrick Holland grew up in outback Queensland, Australia. He worked as a stockman until taking up literary studies at Griffith University. He has studied Chinese and Vietnamese at universities in Beijing, Qingdao and Saigon.

His work attempts a strict minimalism inspired by Arvo Pärt and takes up geographical and theological themes, focussing on life’s simplest elements: light and dark; noise, sound and silence; wind and water.

Reviews

[Veronica ⭐️ · Rating 4 out of 5]

Patrick Holland's writing is poetic, poignant and visceral.
Holland's delivery of short, sharp sentences paint a beautiful picture of the setting whilst at the same time rendering an acute portrayal of the unnamed narrator's dismal life.

Our multi-lingual narrator works for a trade council however spends his days doing dodgy real estate deals and his nights with expensive whiskey and call girls.
He moves between airports and chance liaisons. each one much like the last. Each deal brings him closer to his dream of a penthouse in Saigon where he will spend his days with elite call girls, whiskey, opium and oblivion. Our narrator is a broken man, despondent and cynical, making money by insider deals, yet quotes from the bible.
I found him complex and nuanced, one action and thought quite often contradicting a previous one, yet he had a certain charisma about him.

Oblivion is a story of the transformative power of love.

This is a novel where the narrator's journey becomes the story. The only reason I'm holding back that fifth star is because sometimes I needed a little more explanation to understand what the author wanted me to see.

[Lisa · Rating 4 out of 5]

My travel experience of Asian mega cities is doing touristy things in just two: multiple stopovers in Singapore, and in 2007, two days in Ho Chi Minh City a.k.a. Saigon (which is what the locals called it). But I have seen the kind of existential emptiness that is evoked in Patrick Holland's new novel Oblivion.  Taking a stroll in Singapore with no particular destination in mind can take the tourist into bleak, desolate canyons between high-rise apartments with barely a soul on the street, and the folly of staying in the Marina Bay Sands Hotel can be seen in our photos of this pseudo oasis in the sky.  In Vietnam, the road from the airport into Saigon traverses a wasteland of mega factories where the only colour amid the concrete is the mega logo of the company, LG and the like. A soul-destroying place, even if it is critical to the Vietnamese economy.

Oblivion, it seems to me, is about the soul of a traveller through places such as these.  The nameless narrator is adrift in Asia where he works officially in some kind of foreign affairs and trade capacity, attending APEC conferences and negotiating trade deals with mining companies in China and so on. His knowledge of Asian economies is extensive and he speaks the languages he needs with enough fluency to do his deals, to pick up girls in bars and to buy expensive liquor and opium. The language of money and buildings.  And of chance liaisons.

Unofficially he does insider trading deals with super-wealthy Asian investors.  When the novel opens, he is negotiating one of these deals to buy up a corridor of Australian land that is about to become very valuable, and the deal is to facilitate his own purchase of a $6million AUD high-rise in Saigon, where he plans to live in opium- and booze-induced oblivion.  Australia is only the peaceful place of his origin, not home.

His loneliness is palpable and the emptiness of the glitzy world he traverses seems to offer no sort of redemption for his cynicism.

And yet... in the desolation of an airport in Japan — there is a flicker of hope.  He purchases — not an airport novel with gold lettering and fake thrills such as you might expect a rather shallow man to buy — but instead a copy of Ovid's Metamorphoses and a bilingual edition of Bashō's haiku. This allusion to Japan's famous haiku poet is an invitation to the reader of Oblivion...

... to supply his own images and make leaps and connections out of acquired experiences. (from the Introduction to Basho, the Complete Haiku (2008), translated by Jane Reichhold.

And Metamorphoses? You don't need to know much about Bad Boy Ovid (43BC-17/18AD) to know that he wrote erotic poetry about love, intrigue and adultery, notably in the Ars Amatoria — which may have been the cause of his being exiled by Augustus. Married three times and divorced twice before he was thirty, no doubt he had some experience which informed his poetry.  But his epic poem Metamorphoses is about the transformation of human beings into other living things such as trees, animals and flowers, but also rocks and even constellations.  So the reader is alert to the possibility of change (of a spiritual kind) for Oblivion's world weary narrator.

To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2024/06/11/o...

[Kym Jackson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sparse but lyrical. An Australian offical, not specifically mentioned but likely working for Austrade in China and Vietnam, seeks Oblivion—to make enough money on side deals to buy a penthouse apartment in Saigon and live the rest of his life in a luxurious opium den effectively, finds himself embroiled in some intelligence work that goes wrong, and maybe finding that he doesn’t really want oblivion after all.

Beautifully written. Recommended.

[Jan Mawdesley · Rating 5 out of 5]

He lives in the nebulous world of the Diplomat. His base is China, his world of operation is Asia, Thailand and Vietnam and on occasion wherever he is sent finalise agreements for land purchase, mineral rights or whatever the Governments of the world see fit to acquire, change or bend to a purpose.
Oblivion the latest work of fiction from Patrick Holland is one where a sparsity of words is used to create an enthralling world around the endless, hopeless seeking of oblivion. The nameless man is forever seeking the intangible; one night here, one night there, always a beautiful girl to keep him company, to share his bed to offer warmth and comfort if only for a fleeting moment. With the help of a little of this and that he seeks nightly peace for his distress.
But as with all things, he is asked by a different department to carry out what seems to be a simple task; to hand over a passport and credit card to a man who needs to be extracted. He reluctantly agrees to this as he needs the money to achieve his dream; that of owning his own apartment high in the sky; a place of solitude, beauty. This causes conflict and danger in his carefully controlled world.
The love of a woman who is beautiful, a sought after Courtesan, is something he desires but she is unattainable. In their short, but gently powerful time together, she teaches him much about desire, wanting and the space called lonely.
He is everyman and no man; he is the seeker, the dreamer, the man who lives inside us all, often alone, often wondering.
Oblivion is a deeply introspective work which in its sparse simplicity and yet complex prose, resonates, remains and demands of the journeyman, contemplation.

[Gavan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wonderful book. A strange mix of hazy vague ethereal writing with a taut thriller storyline. Loved it. The unknown narrator is so well drawn. The plot gripping. The writing style feels appropriately dream-like (given the amount of drugs and alcohol consumed). A nice contemplation of trying to reach "oblivion" in the modern commercial world.

[Tom · Rating 5 out of 5]

Picked this up at the library. And loved it! Turns out the writer is Australian. While the West drowns in cultural decadence, the grownups create the future in Asia. Well, that's how I felt when I was reading it anyway. Top read.

[Graham Akhurst · Rating 5 out of 5]

Holland at his absolute best. An incredible read.

[David Winger · Rating 5 out of 5]

What an absolutely extraordinary work of art this is. It reads a little like Houellebecq at times, but much more beautiful and strange. Other than Houellebecq, though, (or perhaps early Ballard) it's hard to find anything in contemporary world literature to compare it to - perhaps Graham Greene meets Kawabata meets Dante meets Daniel.MP3, Burial, Hiroi Sekai and the YouTube Dreamcore ambient world - that might give some idea.

The dreamlike "floating world" of East and Southeast Asian nightclubs, hotels and airports that the unnamed diplomat and narrator inhabits is beautiful described, but so too its mirror image, the squalid, desert places that the money which funds the rooftop parties of the wealthy comes from. There's a spatial logic to the novel, money moves up towards the sky, into the ether, but the pull of reality, of sin, is always there, never letting the narrator quite achieve his oblivion. God haunts the novel, without ever being mentioned. And the relationship with the heroine, Tien, who is at once a figure of fantasy, the character who may cause the narrator's demise, and at last his salvation, is one of the most memorable in Austral-Asian literature.

I note Oblivion has been completely snubbed by the Miles Franklin this year. Holland asks more of the average prize panel than they're capable of with a work as unique as this, but could there be anything more giving of "Australian Life", per the requirements of the Miles, than how an Australian negotiates the post-national, globalised, expatriate world of supermodernity? You wouldn't even mind said award - which seems to be heatseeking it's own demise as a prestigious prize - giving nods to stories about Rabbits in the Covid lockdowns, if those were technically superior, but its there that Holland and Oblivion excels ... at the line level, formally, aesthetically, there is no better prose stylist in Australian literature - perhaps ever. There are passages of this novel that call up the beauty of oblivion, deserts, 21st century cities, skybars, infinity pools, the running aground of history and historical narratives, that will last as long as books are read. I understand The Mary Smokes Boys is being made into a film by a major American producer at time of writing, and hopefully that will bring this writer to the audience he might rightfully claim, and to the audience for this unique work.

[Maggie Chen · Rating 5 out of 5]

The unnamed diplomat has a secret that is never divulged, that sees him seek "oblivion" when and wherever he can find it as he drifts through Asia's 'floating world' of high-class prostitutes, luxury hotels, airport lounges and skybars. At last he is brought down to earth, by a girl who could as easily be his death as his salvation. If the depictions of globalised 'non-places' are good, those of Hong Kong, the frigid Western Chinese deserts and wilds of Vietnam, where the narrator makes the money to fuel his life of escape are even better. But what this book is, more than anything else, is a study of atomised human beings in the 21st Century's global city, the gigantic, lonely individual of Marlow (Faust, Tamerlane) looms large, searching for home. Line by line, chapter by chapter, this is a work of lyrical genius and an extraordinary character study. I have no idea how Holland is not a household name by now. One of the 21st centuries most unique and profound artists in any medium.

[Edward · Rating 2 out of 5]

The protagonist was simply not a nice fellow. He was a government trade agent in Asia. He was obsessed with alcohol, drugs and bar girls and prostitutes. He also was looking for deals for himself. He couldn't keep quiet when he was asked to do so. Although this novel got a great review in a newspaper in Australia, I could not find much I liked about the book.

[notgettingenough · Rating 4 out of 5]

How lucky I was to pick this up at one of those little bookhouses people have on their front fences these days. It's way too modern for me to have noticed it otherwise. Look forward to reading more by this Oz author.

PS the captcha asked me to tick all the pictures with stairs, so I picked none. It turned out that I was supposed to count steps as stairs.

[Bella Zefira · Rating 3 out of 5]

A narrator working for a government, perhaps a spy travels throughout the east making deals with unknown players making high level deals to make enough money to buy an expensive high rise apartment perhaps in Saigon. In the process he spends nights in skybars and hotel rooms with with beautiful women to kill time till his deal comes through and he can disappear into oblivion

[Jules · Rating 3 out of 5]

Extremely atmospheric and immersive but I fear the author is a little obsessed with the phrase “courtesans of the new floating world” and while it’s evocative, the charm wears off after the fifth use or so.

[Shrirang Kale · Rating 3 out of 5]

Journey through South East Asia chasing oblivion. Smooth and easy to read, taking you across Asian airport lounges and unknown names. Yes - it definitely starts and ends in oblivion  ;)

[Hoa Ngo · Rating 5 out of 5]

An extraordinary novel, part ancient myth part map of the supermodern world. Somehow manages to be lyrical and minimal at the same time. There is nothing like it.

[Jon · Rating 4 out of 5]

A neo-noir novel in which an Australian corporate fixer in Asia seeks to complete that one last deal before escape. The protagonist tries to stay cool, detached, always in control, but at heart is a lonely, tired man in a bleak heartless world in need of change.

I liked the tone of doomed, melancholy, and the loneliness of the protagonist’s desire. A loneliness fuelled by materialism and privilege. His corporate role is mixed up in shady property deals, industrial espionage, dodgy national intelligence agencies, and global organisations operating in the shadows.

The prose is tight and the characterisation well drawn. The Singapore Marina Bay Sands episode is gripping. The increasing tension and threat is very well done.

Having lived and worked in Asia, with an uneasy familiarity with the subject matter, this portrayal of the machinations and intricacies of global high finance and business focuses on the tension between individualistic, privileged, shallow, male alienation, and the yearning for meaning and connection.

The object of the protagonists’s desire is a lofty, soulless apartment in Saigon. His other object of desire is Tien, an exotic, beautiful escort. Holland skirts the risk of cliched orientalism, and creates a love interest who has agency and transcends the one-dimensional.

“Ve dep la vo gia tri…Beauty is worthless, it makes heaven jealous.”

The novel provides a glimpse of how the world works. It asks what pays for Australia’s privilege and wealth, and questions what will happen when we can no longer afford this peace.

The answer is that we must change, as Holland's protagonist reflects and changes. We must get close to a less materialistic, transactional Asia - that we see as our equal not as a means to our ends.