'I felt always that the crumbling paper must hold something that was more like speaking flesh and blood that somewhere amid these shreds I would learn something of this family lost to silence; something about a house that was quickly abandoned and a family divided, and then all gates shut on the past.' A young Australian man arrives in riot-ravaged Paris, armed with an old manuscript written in French and an obsessive desire to piece together the fragments of a mystery that has haunted him since childhood. His journey takes him back and forth in time, over the ruins of desert and city, and through the veils and mirages of history and memory.From the blood-soaked streets of the 1870 siege of Paris, to the tear-gas and chaos of its student riots of 1968; from the desolate, windswept Australian desert to the appalling dank prisons of 19th Century New Caledonia, Deception tells an epic story of a search for truth, spanning continents and generations.Michael Meehan is the acclaimed, award-winning author of The Salt of Broken Tears and Stormy Weather. Deception, his long-awaited third novel, is a triumph of storytelling, imagery and language, a powerful, haunting work from a writer with 'an imagination of another order' (The Australian).Praise for The Salt of Broken Tears, winner of the 2000 Christina Stead Award for a masterwork.' - The Age'... a tour de force an astounding performance. It will, I think, provide one of the most memorable literary experiences of recent times.' - Michael Sharkey, The Australian'... a novel about desire and despair that is altogether stunning.' - Debra Adelaide, Sydney Morning Herald'... a major talent.' - Adelaide Advertiser
Michael Meehan’s novels –The Salt of Broken Tears, Deception, Below the Styx and Stormy Weather – have been shortlisted for and won many awards and have also been published internationally. He is an Emeritus Professor at Deakin University and was for many years the chair of Adelaide Writers Week. He currently lives in Adelaide, South Australia
Nicholas Lethbridge, a young Australian man, arrives in Paris in 1968. He has an old manuscript written in French, and a desire to find out more about his family history. The manuscripts belonged to his grandmother, Agnes. The author, Sebastien Rouvel, was deeply involved in the Paris Commune of the 1870s, but he died in the Australian desert near his grandmother’s childhood home, named Deception.
‘I felt always that the crumbling paper must hold something that was more like speaking flesh and blood . . . that somewhere amid these shreds . . . I would learn something of this family lost to silence; something about a house that was quickly abandoned and a family divided, and then all gates shut on the past.’
Deception is both the name of the novel and the name of the place that Nicholas’s family lived in and then abandoned in the Australian desert, as well as a constant theme in the story that unfolds. What is the truth, and who controls and defines it? Nicholas’s journey takes us between Paris, 19th century New Caledonia and a desolate Australian desert.
There are several characters, but two (in addition to Nicholas) stand out. There is Julia, whose focus is on Sebastien Rouvel (to whom she is related), and whose determination to uncover the family history ignores the impact some revelations might have. And there is Lucien, a former academic whose personal hygiene has seen him barred from almost every museum and library in Paris. Lucien is knowledgeable, and despite his appearance (and smell) an engaging character. Nicholas’s three great aunts hold some of the knowledge he is seeking but are reluctant to share certain aspects. They exist in the present but are rooted in the past: their home crumbling around them. Their lawyer, Monsieur Jalabert, also holds some information.
The more Nicholas learns, the more confused he becomes. Why did his grandmother Agnes remain in Australia when her mother and sisters left? What connections did his grandfather have to the Paris Commune? Where does Sebastien Rouvel fit into the family history?
‘The facts you speak of are not sacred. So much is bred from fiction and illusion. So much you now call history is just shadow bred from shadow, blind actions set in motion by cruelty and insinuation, the motions then set out in further lies to tease the years to come. A triple fiction. A triple set of lies, to which your fourth is added. With your new friend up in Paris .’
I was intrigued by this novel, puzzled by some connections and enlightened by others. I learned a little about the Paris Commune and came to understand how certain events can ripple through families long after the fact. All families have secrets, and some go to great lengths to conceal them.
This is the first novel I have read by Mr Meehan, but it won’t be the last.
An Australian travels to Paris to unravel old family secrets. Interesting and complex, though the family mystery itself was in the end quite simple and almost predictable. I loved the way the author entwined the settings into the narrative…Paris during the 1968 street riots and during uprisings 100 years previously, and rural Australia in the late 1800's.
Nicholas is an Australian in Paris during the 1968 riots. He meets his three great aunts who left France as children to live under Mt Deception in the S. Australian desert. Plenty of derscription of how horrible that is/was. He also meets Julia who agrees to write a coherent account of notes left by a French rebel. We then double back 100 years to the siege of Paris and the connection between then, now, Australia and God knows what else. I never found out. The writing is thick, turgid and gives detailed descriptions of everything. But everything. All trees no wood. I gave up halfway though skip read a bit more but then gave up. Meehan’s books have won several awards, including this book. Oh, its “literary”, clever in hinging 100 years now/then, has weird: characters Lucien, a smelly tramp who is ever so knowledgble and a smelly tramp 100 years previously, political ins and outs, awarders love that sort of thing evidently it seems but Meehan should think of his readers more. Too clever clever.
Deception means a number of things in this book. It is a physical place in the Australian outback, and it also refers to the threads of deception, which are unwound in an endeavor to uncover the truth. These threads are tethered with events of violence and uprising in the city of Paris - The Paris of the Commune in 1871, and the present time student riots in 1968. Nick is fascinated with the little that he knows of his grandmother's childhood. A family home deserted, a split in the family, and a mysterious, eccentric French writer. It is a story that shines with outcasts from society - those that have been outcast, and those that have shut themselves away. Nick travels to Paris, with a stash of rambling writings left by the Frenchman, and kept by his grandmother, hoping to shed light on some of the gaps in his family's history. [return]It is a well structured book, which encourages you to look at things with a different light, and keep an open mind about things until the truth is told. If you approach things with preconceived ideas, you will only deceive yourself.
'Deception' by name... Deception by nature. I chose this book for it's gorgeous cover.... and the fact that the original sticker on the back said $32.95. To command this price, it should be something special. Maybe it is... to some. To me it was a swirling mess for 80% of the time. I'll admit that my knowledge of history doesn't extend to the 1870 siege of Paris..... and do I know much more about it now, after finishing the book..... NO. There wasn't enough explanation and what there was, was confusing. There are several time lines going on (Paris 1870; remote Australian Bush 1870's, Noumea 1870's, Paris 1968, French countryside 1968, Australia 1968) plus some poetic rantings of a mad man across the ages. I don't give up on books. I wanted to with this one. It did get more comprehensible towards the end - but not soon enough in my opinion.
I really wanted to like this book. The synopsis sounds interesting, it had good reviews. But I couldn't get past the meandering prose and superfluous details, and found the characters stereotypical and frustrating in their inability to communicate.(With each other, and with the reader.) The relationship between Nicholas and Julia, in particular, seemed unbelievable to me. I read the first third, then skimmed through to the end, but the book didn't get better.