Juice is the eleventh novel by award-winning Australian author, Tim Winton. In a far-future Australia, a long time after a climate apocalypse, a man drives his well-equipped vehicle through a burnt-out plain, looking for a place where he and the young girl with him might safely settle.
Having already dismissed a gated compound that turns out to have armed guards patrolling forced labourers, they happen upon an apparently abandoned mine site. In a climate that requires living underground for the summer months, a mine shaft is a feasible proposition. Except that someone has already claimed it. The man suggests they can consolidate, work together, but the fellow wields a crossbow that the man recognises, and ushers them down and into a wire enclosure, where he locks them in.
The man begins talking, ostensibly to establish his bona fides and justify his proposal, but perhaps also, a la 1001 Arabian Nights, to distract the bowman from using his weapon. And so, in between pleading for water and food for the child, he spends the next 500+ pages telling the bowman his life story.
So there’s the life he leads with his mother as a grower, the expansion to salvage work, then his recruitment at almost seventeen, into the Service, a widespread secret organisation perhaps not unlike MI5, except non-government, a network of trained operators who team up for interdictions, acquittals of objects who are on The List: read assassinations.
His story refers to The Dirty World, The Terror, The Hundred Years of Light, The Long Peace. He works with comrades who are known only for their role, or perhaps some feature: silver hair, Spanish. Keeping it all secret and separate, he has to juggle duty and family, especially once he falls in love and fathers a child. He describes the interdictions, convinced that the bowman was once also an operator in the Service.
It’s a little unwieldy, when Winton, rather than naming them, refers to his characters only as “the child”, “my mother”, “the filmlayer”, “the bowman”; he gives just three characters a proper name. He seamlessly weaves in the current state of that future world and what is required to survive the harsh climate, and his descriptive prose skilfully evokes the setting. As usual, he eschews the use of quote marks for speech, which can be confusing and irritating. Probably longer than it needs to be, but a well-told tale.
This unbiased review is from an uncorrected proof copy provided by NetGalley and Penguin Random House Australia.