A dazzling portrait of displacement, of love, and of longing from one of Australia's most significant and overlooked women writers.
Melina was born abroad and raised on the island. She asks her Aunt Niki about life before. She notices how people look at her, strain to understand her. She is full of longing for unknown things. The island occupies a liminal space between Melina's present moment and memories of the place her relatives still call home.
Originally published in 1984, The Island is considered an overlooked masterpiece of Australian fiction. In prose charged with feeling and sharp with observation, Kefala captures a portrait of exile and otherness.
Intrigued by Transit Books' recent publication and interested in reading something from the Continent/Country of Australia I decided to pick this up. The Island is the first of a few works by Antigone Kefala's to be revived by Transit for North American audiences.
Known as a poet I was assuming this work would be more of a traditional poetic verse. The Island is more of a novella than anything else. Following our protagonist through interactions as she grows and learns about the world around her. Published initially in 1984 it offers an interesting view of Sydney in the mid to late 20th century.
The writing here is very beautiful but I wasn't very engaged by it. Maybe I just wasn't in the mood for a book like this but I found it hard to really focus in on. Maybe this just isn't the best introduction to Kefala. I do wish I was reading this in a month or so as I do think this book would benefit from being read outside. You can really feel the breeze in the air of some of these scenes and that would really enhance the reading experience.
While not the most interesting read for me I am interested in reading more from Kefala. A new entry from Transit Books was just published this month and will be on my horizon.
What strikes me most is Antigone's mastery of words, particularly those for different shades of colours. She's so good at the description of landscape and the nuances of the interior as well. Images pop out in her writing, 'as if painted'. This novella well captures the uncertainty and arbitrariness of first love. Melina may seem naive but it is this experience of trying to love that helps her figure out what she truly expects from a relationship.
This book was best when I let it wash over me without worrying too much about what was happening. Clearly written by a poet, and beautifully so. I’m not surprised it is considered an overlooked work, as the best parts of it aren’t straightforward at all. There isn’t really a plot. I’m glad Transit Books is continuing to publish interesting, lesser known books from around the world.
i’m very thankful my local library carries unique to me titles. i stumbled upon The Island while meandering my way through the bookshelves and the book ended up calling to me.
this vividly descriptive novella follows a story of change and discovery whether of oneself of the world around them.
there isn’t really a plot, it’s more of a vibe that carries throughout but entertaining nonetheless
"The sea was still dark, lead-coloured. Across the stark, open line of the horizon, small black clouds had gathered in rows against the light-blue sky. Then the seagulls stopped flying, and across the waters a deep silence settled as if nothing was alive; the waters did not move, nor the wind, transfixed, as the clouds became slowly orange, darker and darker orange. I had left them to come down to the beach. The rocks were cold, blue-grey, and the waves hardly moved as if the depth was holding its breath, walking on tiptoe.
And then above the line of the clouds an enormous orange disk emerged. It stood there suspended for what seemed to be an interminable time, and then as if turning, light streamed out of it, incandescent light gushed across the waters, flowed like fine strands of hair, brilliant dust exploding on the waves making the entire surface live with spangles. The beach stretched like an arm full of white sand and further in the transparent stream a fisherman was waiting petrified. The rocks had turned into warm browns and the sea came breaking against the rocks, a deep sound as if the earth responded from its very depths, and the white crystal foam leapt higher and higher, dissolved in the light till one could not tell what was light and what was sea."
Originally published in 1984 by Antigone Kefala, hailed as "one of the most significant Australian writerswho have come from elsewhere", The Island has been brought back into print by Transit Books. It's one of those books where the writing itself is the star, as Kefala's mastery of words is definitley transportive. The story, such that it is, follows Melina, part of an immigrant family now living on the Island. This coming-of-age story explores a longing for home, the stirrings of sexuality, a desire for self-actualization and independence, and the world around us.
3.5. Coming of age very quickly — transition should be simple. 100 pages’ rapid progress from one state to the next. Oh, we alone are new, true, beautiful, and nothing like us has been, will be! We, firstborn of humanity, will kill death whole of our own power. Alone unfallen, alone pure enough to rebuild babel, pick the fruit of the tree and taste it undefiled.
Old familiar song, but a pretty refrain. Prefer it here to Joyce and Rousseau, framed the much more longingly, realistically.
Very clearly a novel written by a poet (affectionately). The prose is incredibly sensual and lyrical. The story is broken up into many vignettes, truly wisps of moments more than anything else. Some beautiful imagery throughout! Thankful to transit for this arc and look out for The Island on June 3rd.
A short book of dreamy vignettes from a young woman in University who immigrated with her family to Australia. Kefala captures feelings of displacement and belonging, growth and becoming, love and loss with creative, beautiful descriptions. At the same time though, the prose was a bit too abstract for me at times and left me unsure of the story and where it was going.
Very clearly an ex-pat poet using the barest of plot to hold together musings on her feelings associated with coming of age as an ex-pat poet. It was beautiful writing, but I’m not sure that specific experience will stick with me. Ok- I’m sure. It won’t. But I’m just not the right reader for this.
As other reviewers have noted, this is 'pretty prose, but that's about it.' After trawling through bad prose for a while, I was very glad for this. Also, it's a solid book about being an immigrant, and about being a teenager, and doesn't overstay its welcome, unlike teenagers in general.
Too opaque: without the introduction, one would have no clue. Kefala has a delicate outsider's regard for her adopted Australia. Little riffs of description, people's behavior. Written in the early 1980s, it requires pauses to be absorbed.
I was fascinate at the beginning with such lyrical poetic writing, but that soon wore off when I had to reread parts to try and get the drift of the story. By the half way mark, I thought it to be the most pathetic book I've ever had the displeasure to set eyes upon. So, I didn't finish. Flowery, unstructured trash.