Not much Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander literature is available on the UK market, so any time an Aboriginal/First Nations book is published, it is worth checking out. Despite Melissa Lucashenko's decades-long career, she came to international prominence with the multi-generational Too Much Lip, first published in 2018, and her most recent novel, the historical Edenglassie, was much-anticipated. In Edenglassie, Lucashenko, an author of Bundjalung and Ukrainian descent, offers a meditation on history, memory, First Nations' identity and cultural resilience.
The narrative is set across two time periods - 1855 and modern day. They are quite different in tone, as the longer historical storyline is written much more sombrely, whereas the modern-day plot is livelier and easier to get into. The historical narration mixes real, fictional, and heavily fictionalised versions of real First Nations individuals, whereas the modern storyline focuses on their entirely fictional descendants. In the modern story, we follow Grandma Eddie, an elderly First Nations woman who suffers a fall in the novel's opening, prompting a prolonged stay in a local hospital.
The crux of the narrative is the relationship between Eddie's fiery granddaughter Winona and the local doctor, Johnny, a man of First Nations descent who only recently discovered his heritage. These three are used by Lucashenko as mouthpieces for discussions of what makes a First Nations person authentically Indigenous, with Winona spending most of the novel denying Johnny's claims to Indigeneity, and Eddie promoting a more peaceful and inclusive idea of belonging. These dialogues, informative as they are, felt a bit clunky and exposition-heavy, but they also made the characterisation of the three protagonists very clear and easy to follow.
The same cannot really be said about the historical storyline, at least not initially, as it is not immediately apparent who the protagonists of the ensemble cast are. Eventually, we settle into following Mulanyin, a Yugambeh man, during traditional travelling to find a wife from a different location. Instead of marrying his intended, he falls for Nita, a baptised First Nations woman in the service of the Petrie family, often hailed as the 'Fathers of Brisbane'. Despite spending more than 70% of the narrative in the past storyline, Mulanyin and Nita never quite come alive in the same way Eddie or Johnny do, often remaining archetypes of their specific circumstances, rather than portrayals of complex human beings.
The much more serious in tone historical storyline gives the reader a bit more freedom to interpret the narrative, as we are introduced to the complexities and nuances of the relationships between First Nations people and the colonisers. First of all, the narrative unapologetically shows that there is no such thing as a 'good imperialist' or a 'good enslaver', as even the most respectful and willing to learn White characters are still clearly the invaders taking advantage of Indigenous people in a myriad of ways. Additionally, some of the most nuanced scenes don't shy away from the poverty and misery of some of the White convicts. In a memorable scene, Mulanyin gives some of his fish to a homeless White woman who immediately eats it raw. It is in moments like this Lucashenko's talent for presenting a three-dimensional picture really shines.
This novel is at its best when Lucashenko trusts the reader to come to their own conclusions and inspires them to think for themselves. I found the ideas about global Blackness, from First Nations characters thinking about enslaved people in North America in the 19th century storyline to discussions of specifically Blak identity in modern Australia, interesting and stimulating.
Overall, this novel can come across as a bit clunky at times, but it is still worth reading.