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The Season
I pull up at the kerb. I love this park they train in. I must have walked the figure-of-eight around its ovals hundreds of times, at dawn, winter and summer, to throw the ball for Dozer, our red heeler, but he’s buried now, in the backyard, under the crepe myrtle near the chook pen.
The boy jumps out with his footy and trots away, bouncing it. Boy? Look at him. He’s five foot eleven. The last of my three grandkids. This year he’s in the Under 16s.
It’s footy season in Melbourne, and Helen Garner is following her grandson’s suburban team. She turns up not only at every game (give or take), but at every training session, shivering on the sidelines in the dark, fascinated by the spectacle.
She’s a passionate Western Bulldogs supporter (with a rather shaky grasp of the rules) and a great admirer of the players and the epic theatre of the game. But this is something more than that. It is a chance to connect with her youngest grandchild, to be close to him in his last moments as a child and in his headlong rush into manhood. To witness his triumphs and defeats, to fear for his safety in battle, to gasp and to cheer for the team as it fights its way towards the finals.
Garner’s sharp eye, wit and warm humour bring the team and the season to life, as she documents this pivotal moment, both as part of the story and as silent witness. It’s a reflection on masculinity, on the nobility, grace and grit of team spirit and the game’s power to enthral.
‘There are very few writers that I admire more than Helen Garner.’ DAVID NICHOLLS
‘A voice of great honesty and energy.’ ANNE ENRIGHT
‘One of Australia’s foremost authors, admired by writers as different as Raymond Carver and Elizabeth Jolley.’ INDEPENDENT
‘Not long ago I read Helen Garner for the first time and was so stunned that I wanted to run around the block; how strange, how wonderful, that a book can still make me feel that way.’ RUMAAN ALAM
The boy jumps out with his footy and trots away, bouncing it. Boy? Look at him. He’s five foot eleven. The last of my three grandkids. This year he’s in the Under 16s.
It’s footy season in Melbourne, and Helen Garner is following her grandson’s suburban team. She turns up not only at every game (give or take), but at every training session, shivering on the sidelines in the dark, fascinated by the spectacle.
She’s a passionate Western Bulldogs supporter (with a rather shaky grasp of the rules) and a great admirer of the players and the epic theatre of the game. But this is something more than that. It is a chance to connect with her youngest grandchild, to be close to him in his last moments as a child and in his headlong rush into manhood. To witness his triumphs and defeats, to fear for his safety in battle, to gasp and to cheer for the team as it fights its way towards the finals.
Garner’s sharp eye, wit and warm humour bring the team and the season to life, as she documents this pivotal moment, both as part of the story and as silent witness. It’s a reflection on masculinity, on the nobility, grace and grit of team spirit and the game’s power to enthral.
‘There are very few writers that I admire more than Helen Garner.’ DAVID NICHOLLS
‘A voice of great honesty and energy.’ ANNE ENRIGHT
‘One of Australia’s foremost authors, admired by writers as different as Raymond Carver and Elizabeth Jolley.’ INDEPENDENT
‘Not long ago I read Helen Garner for the first time and was so stunned that I wanted to run around the block; how strange, how wonderful, that a book can still make me feel that way.’ RUMAAN ALAM
Audible Audio
First published November 26, 2024
About the author
Helen Garner
49 books1,542 followersHelen Garner was born in Geelong in 1942. She has published many works of fiction including Monkey Grip, Cosmo Cosmolino and The Children's Bach. Her fiction has won numerous awards. She is also one of Australia's most respected non-fiction writers, and received a Walkley Award for journalism in 1993.
Her most recent books are The First Stone, True Stories, My Hard Heart, The Feel of Stone and Joe Cinque's Consolation. In 2006 she won the Melbourne Prize for Literature. She lives in Melbourne.
Praise for Helen Garner's work
'Helen Garner is an extraordinarily good writer. There is not a paragraph, let alone a page, where she does not compel your attention.'
Bulletin
'She is outstanding in the accuracy of her observations, the intensity of passion...her radar-sure humour.'
Washington Post
'Garner has always had a mimic's ear for dialogue and an eye for unconscious symbolism, the clothes and gestures with which we give ourselves away.'
Peter Craven, Australian
'Helen Garner writes the best sentences in Australia.'
Ed Campion, Bulletin
Her most recent books are The First Stone, True Stories, My Hard Heart, The Feel of Stone and Joe Cinque's Consolation. In 2006 she won the Melbourne Prize for Literature. She lives in Melbourne.
Praise for Helen Garner's work
'Helen Garner is an extraordinarily good writer. There is not a paragraph, let alone a page, where she does not compel your attention.'
Bulletin
'She is outstanding in the accuracy of her observations, the intensity of passion...her radar-sure humour.'
Washington Post
'Garner has always had a mimic's ear for dialogue and an eye for unconscious symbolism, the clothes and gestures with which we give ourselves away.'
Peter Craven, Australian
'Helen Garner writes the best sentences in Australia.'
Ed Campion, Bulletin
Ratings & Reviews
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 621 reviews
October 30, 2024
I was enthralled with Helen Garner’s quest to connect with her grandson, turning from boy to man, across the season of AFL. The training, the games, the team, and their camaraderie. The OBSERVATION of this. Who better to bear witness than this author, I think I’m quite enamoured by HG. Not at all a worry to be the furthest thing from a footy fan.
Asking questions, uncaring if they are simple, inane or something that any fan would already know. I love this about her, it’s what I do. Question, question, question. "Why does mullet equal footy?' Is this not the best?!
Being a neighbour to her kin, this family is lovely to observe. The honesty appealing and welcomed, entirely clear their love is strong and real. Her grandson WANTS to be with her. So often they hang out.
I feel old and deaf and awed, in the back seat with the dog.
I sense her awareness of ageing, stating, not emoting. I was fully absorbed in the sparseness of writing. A little rush of desolation. It doesn't matter if I'm not there. No one needs me. I'm not essential after all. I'm only a witness. It's one of the sporadic bursts of reality that grandparents have to bear. You're making a serious mistake if you start to think you're near the centre. You're on the periphery. You're a servant. A hanger-on. And soon you'll be dead.
Fully committed to transporting Amby, soaking in the pre training excitement, a fabulous time to ask questions of her boy.
Where am I going to put myself, with my brand-new notebook hidden in the back pocket of my overalls? Vowing to remain unseen, Amby did comment offhandedly that he didn’t ever notice her presence. A little stab to my heart!
Helen is funny, deprecating. I loved it to bits. ..despite his absurd little moustache (they're all growing them-it's a thing in the AFL and even on the streets, for God's sake)..
Little tid bits, and the free-flowing convo between these two. What? They pinch you? Isn't pinching sort of girly? Is it allowed?
the women runners with their whirling ponytails and cold-beamed little head-torches. Some of them are wiry and feet, with the smooth, economical movements of marathon runners; others are plump, with big hips, bellies and breasts.. Is this not the Helen we all love?
Remarking on her lack of understanding the game, uncaring. I walk around the house thinking ignorantly about it, shouting, singing, talking to myself. All the time. Does this mean something about me? Something psycho, or scary?
The voyeuristic style transported me to the cold nights, not being a fan of the cold, I felt her chill each time she forgot her coat, or when it was too thin. Each nugget of observation was necessary, adding many layers to the narrative. The book is small, the content not at all. The Season highlights that possibly HG has self-doubt like the rest of us, but what a delight it was to see her enjoy her grandson and take pleasure in these few months. To reflect on his changes since carrying him around so heavy on the hip, and revel in the joy of it all. Present for her grandson, regardless of being seen or not, the value of her company and spiritedness was priceless.
Thank you @text_publishing for my review copy, I cheered for all of this.
Asking questions, uncaring if they are simple, inane or something that any fan would already know. I love this about her, it’s what I do. Question, question, question. "Why does mullet equal footy?' Is this not the best?!
Being a neighbour to her kin, this family is lovely to observe. The honesty appealing and welcomed, entirely clear their love is strong and real. Her grandson WANTS to be with her. So often they hang out.
I feel old and deaf and awed, in the back seat with the dog.
I sense her awareness of ageing, stating, not emoting. I was fully absorbed in the sparseness of writing. A little rush of desolation. It doesn't matter if I'm not there. No one needs me. I'm not essential after all. I'm only a witness. It's one of the sporadic bursts of reality that grandparents have to bear. You're making a serious mistake if you start to think you're near the centre. You're on the periphery. You're a servant. A hanger-on. And soon you'll be dead.
Fully committed to transporting Amby, soaking in the pre training excitement, a fabulous time to ask questions of her boy.
Where am I going to put myself, with my brand-new notebook hidden in the back pocket of my overalls? Vowing to remain unseen, Amby did comment offhandedly that he didn’t ever notice her presence. A little stab to my heart!
Helen is funny, deprecating. I loved it to bits. ..despite his absurd little moustache (they're all growing them-it's a thing in the AFL and even on the streets, for God's sake)..
Little tid bits, and the free-flowing convo between these two. What? They pinch you? Isn't pinching sort of girly? Is it allowed?
the women runners with their whirling ponytails and cold-beamed little head-torches. Some of them are wiry and feet, with the smooth, economical movements of marathon runners; others are plump, with big hips, bellies and breasts.. Is this not the Helen we all love?
Remarking on her lack of understanding the game, uncaring. I walk around the house thinking ignorantly about it, shouting, singing, talking to myself. All the time. Does this mean something about me? Something psycho, or scary?
The voyeuristic style transported me to the cold nights, not being a fan of the cold, I felt her chill each time she forgot her coat, or when it was too thin. Each nugget of observation was necessary, adding many layers to the narrative. The book is small, the content not at all. The Season highlights that possibly HG has self-doubt like the rest of us, but what a delight it was to see her enjoy her grandson and take pleasure in these few months. To reflect on his changes since carrying him around so heavy on the hip, and revel in the joy of it all. Present for her grandson, regardless of being seen or not, the value of her company and spiritedness was priceless.
Thank you @text_publishing for my review copy, I cheered for all of this.
June 4, 2025
My book of choice for my bookclub this month. Garner’s honesty and strength appealed to everyone, although some found her writing about ageing alienating and even depressing. For myself, the review below still stands.
___________________________________
Garner’s passion, candour and inimitable prose will lift your soul in this lovingly detailed unfolding of her teenage grandson’s football season. The book sings of Melbourne life and culture, of the inevitability of ageing and of the fierce joys of family love and life.
Unmissable.
___________________________________
Garner’s passion, candour and inimitable prose will lift your soul in this lovingly detailed unfolding of her teenage grandson’s football season. The book sings of Melbourne life and culture, of the inevitability of ageing and of the fierce joys of family love and life.
Unmissable.
July 27, 2024
Reading like a very natural extension of her diaries, this warmly observed year of U16 footy, AFL and family life is glorious. Garner gently questions and probes the ethics of memoir of this kind and as much as she wants to be an invisible observer, her delight at being asked to hand out the orange slices to these towering mud-covered boys at half-time is palpable (and adorable). That she still carries so much self-doubt about writing and actually sees it as part of her process will reassure writers and other artists no end (or perhaps depress them, does it never end?). What a gift to be able to be back in Garner’s life and world so intimately. Sorry for reading this so early and torturing you. Here’s to Helen, long may she reign.
November 27, 2024
I’d read her shopping list.
December 1, 2024
This short high audiobook is pwrfect for fans of football and coming of age honesty. Told through her observations it gives true insight into a complex time for young men in a complicated sport. I enjoyed her insights reflected back to her role and life more rgan the football. It was unique and refreshing. Being from the UK it was good to read the passion and humanity of a brutal sport told in a Swan sing like way.
This is 4.5 stars rounded up for me. Thank you netgallery and publisher and author and narrator for this entertaining way.
This is 4.5 stars rounded up for me. Thank you netgallery and publisher and author and narrator for this entertaining way.
January 18, 2025
“Really I’m trying to write about footy and my grandson and me. About boys at dusk. A little life-hymn. A poem. A record of a season we are spending together before he turns into a man and I die.”
when one of your favourite authors writes about your favourite sport... I love AFL I knew I'd love this book but it hit me even harder than I expected. "A nanna's book about football" I found myself so touched by the relationship between Garner and her grandson, the contemplation on the cycles of life - he growing up as she's preparing for her death, love and friendship and the idea of sport as something that can bring us together. I was actually moved by this, of my favourite pieces of media on sport ever! Switched to the audiobook halfway through which I recommend because she narrates it herself. 5/5.
April 18, 2025
Read for a future book club meet. This was a nice read without reaching great heights. Pity really as the subject is one, I can relate to. I am a watcher of Australian Rules Football and as this is a very recent release, many of the players of the AFL team that the author Helen Garner follows, The Western Bulldogs, are familiar to me.
Helen claimed to know not much about Aussie Rules, and began to take a greater interest when her 16-year-old Grandson was playing Colts. This was written as a dairy like homage to the season and the young boys that played in the team.
Certain passages are worth considering in a modern context, as the fact that Helen is 80 years old and by her own admission is of a past era.
At one point she writes of being “reproached” by her grandchildren for having a picture on her phone of 3 under 10s as she “…admired..” their bravery. She was “…furious…” at the reproach. The parents told her she would not like her picture on a stranger's phone, and she pretended to agree with them. I am not sure that 80-year-old Helen got the point as she tried to compare having the captain of the Western Bulldogs on the phone as well.
Helen mentions briefly concussion. This reminded me of working with a then State of Origin Rugby League player, early 1980s, who when I asked how his weekend was told me he had no idea as he got concussed in the game on Saturday and had no recall of the weekend at all. Concussion in body contact is now a serious issue for those controlling sport. Helen does not particular cover this in any meaningful way other than to iterate others, as the book is basically about her relationship with her grandson. I personally required more depth on the subject. Her Grandson may be a future AFL player after all. She is at one time offered information about institutional sexual abuse of young boys at football clubs but rejects the offer as the book is about her Grandson. She defends not discussing this as the book is about her relationship with her Grandson and “a record of a season we are spending together before he turns into a man and I die”
There are a couple of grammatical issues that caught my attention. The use of the word “versing”. It was always “verses” in any football circle I have engaged in. I am informed that a younger generation is using “versing” so I presume that Helen used it throughout as that is what she was hearing from her Grandson and his peer groups. Language changes over time, I except that, but I did not enjoy reading it. Helen also wrote that her team was “demolished by 2 points” at one point. Is this a typo? This is the 2nd lowest losing score possible.
Not for those looking for deep and meaningful discussions on the sport itself, more for those that want a pleasant read about (mostly) a Grandmother and her relationship and observations of her Grandson playing sport.
Helen claimed to know not much about Aussie Rules, and began to take a greater interest when her 16-year-old Grandson was playing Colts. This was written as a dairy like homage to the season and the young boys that played in the team.
Certain passages are worth considering in a modern context, as the fact that Helen is 80 years old and by her own admission is of a past era.
At one point she writes of being “reproached” by her grandchildren for having a picture on her phone of 3 under 10s as she “…admired..” their bravery. She was “…furious…” at the reproach. The parents told her she would not like her picture on a stranger's phone, and she pretended to agree with them. I am not sure that 80-year-old Helen got the point as she tried to compare having the captain of the Western Bulldogs on the phone as well.
Helen mentions briefly concussion. This reminded me of working with a then State of Origin Rugby League player, early 1980s, who when I asked how his weekend was told me he had no idea as he got concussed in the game on Saturday and had no recall of the weekend at all. Concussion in body contact is now a serious issue for those controlling sport. Helen does not particular cover this in any meaningful way other than to iterate others, as the book is basically about her relationship with her grandson. I personally required more depth on the subject. Her Grandson may be a future AFL player after all. She is at one time offered information about institutional sexual abuse of young boys at football clubs but rejects the offer as the book is about her Grandson. She defends not discussing this as the book is about her relationship with her Grandson and “a record of a season we are spending together before he turns into a man and I die”
There are a couple of grammatical issues that caught my attention. The use of the word “versing”. It was always “verses” in any football circle I have engaged in. I am informed that a younger generation is using “versing” so I presume that Helen used it throughout as that is what she was hearing from her Grandson and his peer groups. Language changes over time, I except that, but I did not enjoy reading it. Helen also wrote that her team was “demolished by 2 points” at one point. Is this a typo? This is the 2nd lowest losing score possible.
Not for those looking for deep and meaningful discussions on the sport itself, more for those that want a pleasant read about (mostly) a Grandmother and her relationship and observations of her Grandson playing sport.
July 13, 2026
5★ (for both the text and her reading of the audio)
"And I started to glimpse what is grand and noble, and admirable and graceful, about men."
I'm a fan, and after years of reading Garner's stories about the often fractured relationships between men and women, it was a treat to watch her expand her consciousness about young men as she closely observed her youngest grandson, Ambrose, find his place in football.
She makes frequent self-deprecating comments and is honest about how little she has understood men's psyches.
Amby's mother and father (which is how she always refers to her daughter and son-in-law (this is Amby's book, after all), live next door to Helen, pretty much as one household, with no fence.
She says: "All my life I’ve fought men, lived under their regimes, been limited and frustrated by their power…" and she had one child, her daughter. She realises she should know more about men than her one-sided view. (She and Amby's older brother and her son-in-law "Amby's dad" are obviously good mates, so that's no issue.)
We used to call it Aussie Rules, but I haven't heard that for ages. The game itself, the fierce competition, the tribal loyalties, and the rusted-on fans date back to 1877 when the Victorian Football Association was founded. (150 years ago next year.)
Then we had VFL, and now it's AFL, the Australian Football League. Both boys and girls play AFL as well as Rugby League ('League') and Rugby Union ('Rugby'). Don't trust me on this - I just looked up a little background.
In 2000, after living in Sydney for many years (the home of League and Rugby), Helen returned to Melbourne and was bemused by the fuss made about footy until she saw the documentary 'Year of the Dogs', which she says changed her life.
"The clubs’ supporters were grief-stricken. Frankly, this was of little interest to me. But then the captain of the struggling, impoverished Footscray, a man with a modest manner and a profile off a coin, explained why he had declined an offer from a more famous, more successful club.
He said, ‘I got a letter from a young boy. "Dear Chris Grant, please don’t leave. I haven’t got much money. This is all I can give." And he’d sticky-taped on to the letter a fifty-cent piece. So of course I couldn’t leave, could I.’
I got off the couch, went straight to the computer with my credit card, and joined his club."
That was Footscray, which became the Footscray/Western Bulldogs, and the rest is history. Helen and her daughter's family are all die-hard Western Bulldog supporters. Here, she's gone next door and finds the family watching a replay of the game they've just been to and seen live.
"On the big screen as I walk into their kitchen I see the mighty figure of Bontempelli in flight, an archangel out of Blake or Milton, all crystalline and celestial—and the blue of the Bulldogs jumper! So intense, so mouth-watering, so made of sky."
Although she claims not to understand a lot of the rules and finer points of the game, she loves watching repeats of highlights on YouTube and certain favourite kicks and games. She certainly understands the point of football.
"I learnt that when the chips are down, football rises. I saw that it’s a kind of poetry, an ancient common language between strangers, a set of shared hopes and rules and images, of arcane rites played out at regular intervals before the citizenry. It revives us. It sustains us. In a time of fear and ignorance, it holds us above the abyss."
So she will go to footy training, stand back, observe, take notes and make herself as small and insignificant as she feels. Amby is remarkably candid and insightful about how he feels and why.
Some kind of argy-bargy occurs during a game, but it's beyond Helen and Amby's dad's view. The umpire sent one player from each team off the field.
Helen talks to Amby about it in the car later, the pushing and shoving, the players sent off. Amby is philosophical about it.
" ‘It’s the stage we’re at. We’re all full of hormones. Some guys are men. They’ve got beards.’ "
I don't follow AFL and really don't know the rules, but I enjoy watching. They used to say "And the big men fly!" And they do, and they run, and they kick, and they never stand still and the field is huge! It's also not a standard size from one place to another, so players have to adapt.
It's wonderful watching Helen watch these boys develop empathy and manners and sportsmanship as they delight in tackling the bejeezus out of each other and then shake hands and share a laugh after the games.
You don't need to understand AFL to enjoy Garner's unique, fly-on-the-wall diary of Amby's 'growing season' in the U16s. Her writing is as perfect as ever.
"And I started to glimpse what is grand and noble, and admirable and graceful, about men."
I'm a fan, and after years of reading Garner's stories about the often fractured relationships between men and women, it was a treat to watch her expand her consciousness about young men as she closely observed her youngest grandson, Ambrose, find his place in football.
She makes frequent self-deprecating comments and is honest about how little she has understood men's psyches.
Amby's mother and father (which is how she always refers to her daughter and son-in-law (this is Amby's book, after all), live next door to Helen, pretty much as one household, with no fence.
She says: "All my life I’ve fought men, lived under their regimes, been limited and frustrated by their power…" and she had one child, her daughter. She realises she should know more about men than her one-sided view. (She and Amby's older brother and her son-in-law "Amby's dad" are obviously good mates, so that's no issue.)
We used to call it Aussie Rules, but I haven't heard that for ages. The game itself, the fierce competition, the tribal loyalties, and the rusted-on fans date back to 1877 when the Victorian Football Association was founded. (150 years ago next year.)
Then we had VFL, and now it's AFL, the Australian Football League. Both boys and girls play AFL as well as Rugby League ('League') and Rugby Union ('Rugby'). Don't trust me on this - I just looked up a little background.
In 2000, after living in Sydney for many years (the home of League and Rugby), Helen returned to Melbourne and was bemused by the fuss made about footy until she saw the documentary 'Year of the Dogs', which she says changed her life.
"The clubs’ supporters were grief-stricken. Frankly, this was of little interest to me. But then the captain of the struggling, impoverished Footscray, a man with a modest manner and a profile off a coin, explained why he had declined an offer from a more famous, more successful club.
He said, ‘I got a letter from a young boy. "Dear Chris Grant, please don’t leave. I haven’t got much money. This is all I can give." And he’d sticky-taped on to the letter a fifty-cent piece. So of course I couldn’t leave, could I.’
I got off the couch, went straight to the computer with my credit card, and joined his club."
That was Footscray, which became the Footscray/Western Bulldogs, and the rest is history. Helen and her daughter's family are all die-hard Western Bulldog supporters. Here, she's gone next door and finds the family watching a replay of the game they've just been to and seen live.
"On the big screen as I walk into their kitchen I see the mighty figure of Bontempelli in flight, an archangel out of Blake or Milton, all crystalline and celestial—and the blue of the Bulldogs jumper! So intense, so mouth-watering, so made of sky."
Although she claims not to understand a lot of the rules and finer points of the game, she loves watching repeats of highlights on YouTube and certain favourite kicks and games. She certainly understands the point of football.
"I learnt that when the chips are down, football rises. I saw that it’s a kind of poetry, an ancient common language between strangers, a set of shared hopes and rules and images, of arcane rites played out at regular intervals before the citizenry. It revives us. It sustains us. In a time of fear and ignorance, it holds us above the abyss."
So she will go to footy training, stand back, observe, take notes and make herself as small and insignificant as she feels. Amby is remarkably candid and insightful about how he feels and why.
Some kind of argy-bargy occurs during a game, but it's beyond Helen and Amby's dad's view. The umpire sent one player from each team off the field.
Helen talks to Amby about it in the car later, the pushing and shoving, the players sent off. Amby is philosophical about it.
" ‘It’s the stage we’re at. We’re all full of hormones. Some guys are men. They’ve got beards.’ "
I don't follow AFL and really don't know the rules, but I enjoy watching. They used to say "And the big men fly!" And they do, and they run, and they kick, and they never stand still and the field is huge! It's also not a standard size from one place to another, so players have to adapt.
It's wonderful watching Helen watch these boys develop empathy and manners and sportsmanship as they delight in tackling the bejeezus out of each other and then shake hands and share a laugh after the games.
You don't need to understand AFL to enjoy Garner's unique, fly-on-the-wall diary of Amby's 'growing season' in the U16s. Her writing is as perfect as ever.
May 20, 2025
This book fails the bechdel test and fails the test of not making me nauseous.
Wth Helen and not just because my thoughts don’t exist independent from Katie or bc you mean mugged me at the ascot vale gym.
Could almost forgive her obsequious obsession with men, if it weren’t for the fact she also seems to hate women and herself for being one. Women in this book are “chubby” and “chugging along” (made me lol tbf), or “bigger girls”, “caked in makeup”, “stuffing their faces”, “feigning indifference”, if mentioned at all. She constantly refers to her own envy and inadequacy in the face of these rando teenage boys. Or is a “mouthy slag” if she wants to express herself.
Hels not every woman exists to get as juiced up over your grandson as you - would’ve been nice if you spared a line for their relationship to the sport. Kind of like that one line she spares rueing the fact that a lawyer telling her about historic child abuse in footy gets in the way of her “little life-hymn” book for her grandson. Sheesh
Overall, platforms and glorifies a culture of violence/silence that is harmful to both men and women and is honestly just an insane book. 1 stah bb.
Wth Helen and not just because my thoughts don’t exist independent from Katie or bc you mean mugged me at the ascot vale gym.
Could almost forgive her obsequious obsession with men, if it weren’t for the fact she also seems to hate women and herself for being one. Women in this book are “chubby” and “chugging along” (made me lol tbf), or “bigger girls”, “caked in makeup”, “stuffing their faces”, “feigning indifference”, if mentioned at all. She constantly refers to her own envy and inadequacy in the face of these rando teenage boys. Or is a “mouthy slag” if she wants to express herself.
Hels not every woman exists to get as juiced up over your grandson as you - would’ve been nice if you spared a line for their relationship to the sport. Kind of like that one line she spares rueing the fact that a lawyer telling her about historic child abuse in footy gets in the way of her “little life-hymn” book for her grandson. Sheesh
Overall, platforms and glorifies a culture of violence/silence that is harmful to both men and women and is honestly just an insane book. 1 stah bb.
December 23, 2024
I love how Helen writes however not being at all interested in football has made it difficult to be objective.
May 12, 2025
Garner's account of her grandson's AFL season was utterly charming and disarming. The pride in her grandson (yes, including his adult physique) and her yearning to keep learning in her 80s was beautiful.
I share her envy of the community that comes with the sport, the complicated language, and the rituals I have pretended to be above since childhood.
Garner shows you can lose shame with age. I hope I do.
I share her envy of the community that comes with the sport, the complicated language, and the rituals I have pretended to be above since childhood.
Garner shows you can lose shame with age. I hope I do.
April 8, 2025
I want to play footy. And also have kids (???) A literal pleasure to read.
January 1, 2025
Helen Garner describes The Season as a “nanna’s book about footy” - she’s right, and it’s one of the best footy books I’ve read. Instead of the facts and stats that line other books in the genre, this is filled with questions and tender observations about aging, familial love and the cultural significance of footy in Melbourne’s inner west.
Garner’s trademark lyrical prose and sharp observational skills transported me to the chilly training sessions and high spirited games. The love she has for her grandchildren radiates off the page - my heart panged deeply at her remarks about aging and existing at the periphery of their lives.
ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ: footy lovers, Melbournians, enjoyers of memories that are equal parts vulnerable and humerus
Garner’s trademark lyrical prose and sharp observational skills transported me to the chilly training sessions and high spirited games. The love she has for her grandchildren radiates off the page - my heart panged deeply at her remarks about aging and existing at the periphery of their lives.
ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ: footy lovers, Melbournians, enjoyers of memories that are equal parts vulnerable and humerus
January 23, 2025
I love Helen Garner but sadly this book was maybe just a little bit too self indulgent for me...an interesting premise as Garner tries to be a silent witness for a season of her grandson's U16 footy - an Aussie pastime and national religion if there ever was one. While she does caveat the book to say that this is more about her relationship with her grandson and the Bulldogs than it is about an investigation into both the binding and destructive force that can be organised sports, sadly this book had less of her keen observation and pathos than normal and really just read as a diary/commentator transcript of the Colts' season without her usual reflective lens...a rounded down 2.5 🌟
Read
November 17, 2024“Really I’m trying to write about footy and my grandson and me. About boys at dusk. A little life-hymn. A poem. A record of a season we are spending together before he turns into a man and I die.”
December 31, 2024
I’ve read her short stories, “Joe Cinque’s Consolation” and “This House of Grief”. I did start “The Spare Room” but the subject matter did not interest me. I never read her early fiction. It was a time when I did not read fiction.
The line that struck me hardest when reading this book is ‘a record of a season we are spending together before he turns into a man, and I die.’ The bluntness is so Garner.
If Helen Garner was an architect, she would belong to the brutalist school. Her books are characterised by minimalist constructions that showcase the bare literary materials and structural elements before any decorative words.
Garner has a fish-eye view of the world around her. She misses little, and what she sees, she captures with authentic language. She belongs to the Orwell school of language minimalism. No flowery descriptions, no masterful metaphors just plain and accurate accounts of what is happening. Don Watson and Chloe Hooper are other Australian authors of similar style.
She must spend considerable time finding nonfiction subjects to write about. Telling of a teenage team’s footy season seemed an obscure topic to choose, nevertheless, she tells a story with interesting characters, a real suburban setting and a story with all the intricacies of a modern fiction tale. There is a passion for this code of football that only Victorians appreciate.
Some readers might find the theme of football unwelcoming. I know little of Melbourne and less of Australian football (AFL) but I am an aficionado of the football code of rugby league and appreciated the emotions she expressed for the boys’ team and for her own AFL team, the Western Bulldogs.
In her other books Garner has a deep understanding of men, in The Season she delves into the psyche of teenage boys. The protagonist, Garner’s youngest grandson, Amby (Ambrose), is an archetype of the boys who fill sporting teams across the country. He believes in the importance of masculinity, of physical strength, and of standing your ground and he suffers from the usual teenage angst. Nevertheless, he is sensitive to those around him and readily apologizes to his grandmother when appropriate. He is a member of a loving caring family.
The other main character is Helen Garner herself, a confident, clear- headed matriarch who understands and knows her place in the world. She writes about how as you get old you gradually disappear, evaporate to those around you. Being in this state was an ideal situation to being a close observer without being seen as a hindrance to what was happening.
Her acute eyes miss little, and her wry observations and comments are typical Garner, accurate, humorous but never nasty.
In the book Garner occasionally goes on a tangent by delving into AFL, current games and players. She readily admits to her restricted knowledge of the finer points of the game.
The book has all the elements of great fictional tale with a satisfying ending. Hopefully this won’t be the last time we hear from this nanna.
The line that struck me hardest when reading this book is ‘a record of a season we are spending together before he turns into a man, and I die.’ The bluntness is so Garner.
If Helen Garner was an architect, she would belong to the brutalist school. Her books are characterised by minimalist constructions that showcase the bare literary materials and structural elements before any decorative words.
Garner has a fish-eye view of the world around her. She misses little, and what she sees, she captures with authentic language. She belongs to the Orwell school of language minimalism. No flowery descriptions, no masterful metaphors just plain and accurate accounts of what is happening. Don Watson and Chloe Hooper are other Australian authors of similar style.
She must spend considerable time finding nonfiction subjects to write about. Telling of a teenage team’s footy season seemed an obscure topic to choose, nevertheless, she tells a story with interesting characters, a real suburban setting and a story with all the intricacies of a modern fiction tale. There is a passion for this code of football that only Victorians appreciate.
Some readers might find the theme of football unwelcoming. I know little of Melbourne and less of Australian football (AFL) but I am an aficionado of the football code of rugby league and appreciated the emotions she expressed for the boys’ team and for her own AFL team, the Western Bulldogs.
In her other books Garner has a deep understanding of men, in The Season she delves into the psyche of teenage boys. The protagonist, Garner’s youngest grandson, Amby (Ambrose), is an archetype of the boys who fill sporting teams across the country. He believes in the importance of masculinity, of physical strength, and of standing your ground and he suffers from the usual teenage angst. Nevertheless, he is sensitive to those around him and readily apologizes to his grandmother when appropriate. He is a member of a loving caring family.
The other main character is Helen Garner herself, a confident, clear- headed matriarch who understands and knows her place in the world. She writes about how as you get old you gradually disappear, evaporate to those around you. Being in this state was an ideal situation to being a close observer without being seen as a hindrance to what was happening.
Her acute eyes miss little, and her wry observations and comments are typical Garner, accurate, humorous but never nasty.
In the book Garner occasionally goes on a tangent by delving into AFL, current games and players. She readily admits to her restricted knowledge of the finer points of the game.
The book has all the elements of great fictional tale with a satisfying ending. Hopefully this won’t be the last time we hear from this nanna.
December 28, 2024
I would never had thought that Helen Garner could write a boring book, but for me, this was a trial to read. I’m not keen on sports, especially football, but I was encouraged to read this one. Good on you Helen. I think that you enjoyed writing this book, and football fans will love it.
December 26, 2025
I love Helen Garner's bluntness. She presents the world as it is.
January 2, 2025
Helen Garner, suburban Melbourne, footy-- what's not to love?
January 12, 2025
Helen Garner’s observational skills and conversational style make this an absolute joy to read. Nothing is excess to what is required - her use of language is superb (once I came to terms with her use of ‘versed’). Her occasional random observations about day to day ordinary things are masterful and the general tone of the book successfully captures that special bond between a grandmother and her grandchild. This is my favourite Garner book for sure (even though I’m not a follower of AFL).
January 22, 2025
i feel insane about the buzz surrounding this book. helen garner loooooves men and simply does not see a woman as interesting.
i’m putting it down to a generational feminist difference but i’m just so baffled by her constant desire and jealousy to be part of the boys/men’s group when they absolutely don’t even notice her existence as an elderly woman. women play sport too helen and they also have lots of fun and work hard towards a common goal while achieving personal growth. maybe you could’ve experienced something similar if you weren’t always trying to be accepted by men. it was super frustrating that she repeatedly mentioned that her granddaughter also plays footy and there was no comparison or recognition of their different experiences. twas very interesting to note that most of the people she interacted with at trainings were dads. they are so lucky to have the privilege of bonding with their sons over footy while someone else is at home making sure there’s dinner and all the footy gear is washed. having had first hand experience of the way women are simply expected to prop up a community sports team, it was disappointing to not explore how the boys journey to manhood is facilitated by the free labour of women.
the ken/flem parents will love this book (derogatory) and it’s romanticism of the working class inner west. girl those cranes and hi vis workers you’re claiming as proof of a rougher side of town are building $800k apartments; it’s kensington and every single person you interact with throughout the course of the book is a university educated professional. shitting on all the other outer western suburbs teams for being too bogan and uncouth?? shitting on carlton afl players for their “south yarra haircuts”?? queen idk how to tell you that all of your precious western bulldogs players live in kew. you can’t have it both ways.
really can’t get past her telling her grandson he’s hot. that was really weird. also her repeatedly being flummoxed that the “chubby” women who run around jj holland park are fit. and just all the women she describes with synonyms for fat and nothing else.
literally hate-read this entire thing and everything in it has been more succinctly said by some of our greatest footy minds like mark robinson and bt. shoutout to jim h for making a guest appearance (not that he was explicitly mentioned, but i just know he absolutely cleaned up some 16 year old during their practice match against the seniors)
i’m putting it down to a generational feminist difference but i’m just so baffled by her constant desire and jealousy to be part of the boys/men’s group when they absolutely don’t even notice her existence as an elderly woman. women play sport too helen and they also have lots of fun and work hard towards a common goal while achieving personal growth. maybe you could’ve experienced something similar if you weren’t always trying to be accepted by men. it was super frustrating that she repeatedly mentioned that her granddaughter also plays footy and there was no comparison or recognition of their different experiences. twas very interesting to note that most of the people she interacted with at trainings were dads. they are so lucky to have the privilege of bonding with their sons over footy while someone else is at home making sure there’s dinner and all the footy gear is washed. having had first hand experience of the way women are simply expected to prop up a community sports team, it was disappointing to not explore how the boys journey to manhood is facilitated by the free labour of women.
the ken/flem parents will love this book (derogatory) and it’s romanticism of the working class inner west. girl those cranes and hi vis workers you’re claiming as proof of a rougher side of town are building $800k apartments; it’s kensington and every single person you interact with throughout the course of the book is a university educated professional. shitting on all the other outer western suburbs teams for being too bogan and uncouth?? shitting on carlton afl players for their “south yarra haircuts”?? queen idk how to tell you that all of your precious western bulldogs players live in kew. you can’t have it both ways.
really can’t get past her telling her grandson he’s hot. that was really weird. also her repeatedly being flummoxed that the “chubby” women who run around jj holland park are fit. and just all the women she describes with synonyms for fat and nothing else.
literally hate-read this entire thing and everything in it has been more succinctly said by some of our greatest footy minds like mark robinson and bt. shoutout to jim h for making a guest appearance (not that he was explicitly mentioned, but i just know he absolutely cleaned up some 16 year old during their practice match against the seniors)
December 2, 2024
Finished on the tram. Associate book club read number SEVEN…. Associate book club contemporaneous read number ONE….
Reading this new Garner, I’ve realised how much her writing has influenced the way I write and the way that I view the world, perhaps so more than any other writer (thanks to my obsession with her circa 2019-2022). I’d forgotten about it, it’s become so much of a part of me (even the way that she describes faces, the logic of her syntax, the physicality of her emotion or the way she perceives literally any form of culture) that reading the Season felt incredibly familiar, deja-vu-esque (Leigh Sales this is partially your fault.) The clarity and bluntness of her prose, which strings you along then wacks you with a metaphor so ingenious and smooth you need to look up from the page and gape. Will never tire of that!
Reading this new Garner, I’ve realised how much her writing has influenced the way I write and the way that I view the world, perhaps so more than any other writer (thanks to my obsession with her circa 2019-2022). I’d forgotten about it, it’s become so much of a part of me (even the way that she describes faces, the logic of her syntax, the physicality of her emotion or the way she perceives literally any form of culture) that reading the Season felt incredibly familiar, deja-vu-esque (Leigh Sales this is partially your fault.) The clarity and bluntness of her prose, which strings you along then wacks you with a metaphor so ingenious and smooth you need to look up from the page and gape. Will never tire of that!
Read
December 16, 2025The following book reviews have been shared by Text Publishing, publisher of The Season:
‘A jewel of a book’
New York Times
‘The great Australian writer attended her teenage grandson’s every training session…writing about the experience with love, humour, and passion.’
John Boyne, Irish Times
‘A brilliant book about sports—and just about everything else.’
Lit Hub
‘Inclusive and universal, curious and tender, perceptive and wise . . . The Season is joyful, but there is a carefully woven thread of melancholy running through it, and it is this that gives the book its lovely, old-gold sunset hue.’
New York Times
‘Wonderful…You don’t have to follow footy to enjoy it. Funny, unflinching, mundane, deep. If I can write a song as good as this when I’m 80 I’ll be happy.’
Paul Kelly
‘I understand zip about football or any sport, but I cried. Glorious.’
Charlotte Wood, author of Stone Yard Devotional
‘The Season is marked by [Helen Garner’s] unsparing eye for detail and that superpower of detachment—a narrator who sees everything yet who is also deeply involved in the story, with emotional flourishes that rise when she watches her grandson.’
Age
‘Startling in its candour and compelling in its nakedness…A marvellous paean to the glories of youth just shy of the treacheries of manhood.’
Australian
‘One of Australia’s greatest living writers.’
Canberra Times
‘Garner’s real subject is the broader terrain of grace, loyalty, grit and what it means to be masculine today…It’s classic Garner actually: taut, observant prose, sprinkled with wry “nanna jokes” and descriptions that bring the scenes to life.’
ArtsHub
‘[Garner’s] observational skills and her ability to drill down into character and place, make this not only an excellent memoir but also an examination of nascent masculinity, ageing, and the place of sport in contemporary life.’
Good Reading
‘A deeply talented and intelligent writer…In this book performed in a minor key, Garner the grandmother is on song, displaying the very qualities she exalts in athletes: candour, discipline, vigilance and valour.’
Conversation
‘Over one footy season, Garner observes her youngest grandson’s U16 team at training and games, but of course, brings her vivid attention to masculinity, family, weather, ageing, our bodies, and much more.’
Matilda Bookshop
‘Is there anything more thrilling than reading Helen Garner on everyday things such as haircuts, the Melbourne skyline, ageing, AFL tactics, friendship and half-time oranges? A book for all seasons—not just the footy one!’
Gleaner
‘This is a book about sport. AFL. But this isn’t a polemic about football culture. This is, as Garner says, a nanna’s book about footy. Garner never says anything concrete. She dances around the roles of ritual in sport, and how it takes on a religious quality to those who follow it. Tracking her relationship with her youngest grandson over the season, she gives the utmost respect to the boys in the team and their constantly changing relationships with each other; they are the only characters (people?) with names in the entire book. The Season was a beautiful mix of sports and emotions, and while I didn’t learn a whole lot about the rules of AFL, I’m now obsessed with the relationship between Garner and her grandchildren.’
Better Read Than Dead
‘Garner comes at football with a naive perspective and a poet’s eye for detail. She’s just opened the door to this new world and voraciously eats it up: the courage of the young players, the language of its commentators, the commitment of its supporters. Her insights into the game were illuminating and, for me, cast it in a new light. I must admit that I have done the reverse to Garner: after being a football fanatic, I had fallen out of football’s thrall in recent times. After reading this book, I watched my first full game in years. The Season will be appreciated by football fans, of course, but it contains multitudes. Just like the game itself.’
Readings
‘A strong, beautiful book…The Garner of The Season is the Garner her readers know, with her exceptional control over language, her exceptional skill at observing and describing.’
Saturday Paper
‘[Garner] is working in epic mode in The Season as she examines familiar themes and preoccupations: masculinity and its codes, the pleasures and contradictions of social groups, what it means to bear witness…Garner has always been an extraordinary stylist and in The Season her prose, athletic, soars and dances, just like those young footballers.’
Guardian
‘Incredibly tender. About the seasons of football and the season of life…Written in her beautiful prose…I think people will enjoy it very much.’
Jason Steger, ABC RN The Bookshelf, Best Books of 2024
‘The sentences are precise and they sing. [Garner] turns from philosophical reverie on mortality, or violence, or masculine shame, to capturing the looseness and love with which a family talks footy…It’s a book of gentle pleasures and deep meanings…As ever, when you put a Helen Garner book down and look up at the world again, you do so with newly sharpened eyes.’
Monthly
‘[Helen Garner’s] prose is as luminous as ever.’
Australian Book Review
‘Characteristically sharp and tender. There’s nobody like Garner for her powers of observation and her keen appreciation of human beings.’
Michael Williams, Qantas Magazine
‘Regardless of your relationship to the sport, The Season is worth devouring—reflective of Garner’s ability to enthral us in any subject. Garner generously and joyously tells us about her relationship with her grandson Amby. It is refreshing and satisfying to read a book that is funny, perceptive of the complexities of masculinity but also current dialogues around gender, and is simply an ode to loving footy. It’s insightful into the lives of both teenage boys and 80-year-old women...So very “Melbourne”, it’s approachable, friendly, familiar, reminds me of my grandma, and a pleasurable Garner piece that will satisfy her loyalists! Read it!’
Paperback Bookshop
‘The Season is Death in Venice with Sherrin Balls…[Has an] ineffable longing for inclusion and camaraderie. And [Helen Garner’s] uncanny ear for dialogue, its rhythms and pacing, remains spot on.’
Declan Fry, Best Books of 2024, Guardian
‘Her perfect prose and sharp observations are a joy.’
Sydney Morning Herald
‘A gift of love to men, boys, parents and grandparents everywhere.’
Caroline Overington, Best Books of 2024, Australian
‘My new favourite book is Helen Garner’s The Season. She is one of Australia’s great writers and this new book is her hyper-focusing on her grandson’s footy team in west Melbourne…Not only is it a cool Melbourne story and connected to footy but it also feels like hanging out with your nanna.’
Broden Kelly, Guardian
‘This is a fine read, which anyone involved with a local team will be able to relate to…Strongly recommended.’
Cricket Web
‘It’s rare to be privy to an honest, incisive perspective on aging and mortality from someone who is in the last “season” of their life…Beautiful, beautiful stuff. We’re lucky to have [Helen Garner]!’
Diana Reid, author of Signs of Damage
‘I don’t know how Helen does it, but it’s a beautiful story of love and family and boyhood and sport all packaged down into her simple, glorious sentences.’
Meg Bignell, author of The Angry Women’s Choir
‘[a] meditative and moving account’
Wall Street Journal
‘A jewel of a book’
New York Times
‘The great Australian writer attended her teenage grandson’s every training session…writing about the experience with love, humour, and passion.’
John Boyne, Irish Times
‘A brilliant book about sports—and just about everything else.’
Lit Hub
‘Inclusive and universal, curious and tender, perceptive and wise . . . The Season is joyful, but there is a carefully woven thread of melancholy running through it, and it is this that gives the book its lovely, old-gold sunset hue.’
New York Times
‘Wonderful…You don’t have to follow footy to enjoy it. Funny, unflinching, mundane, deep. If I can write a song as good as this when I’m 80 I’ll be happy.’
Paul Kelly
‘I understand zip about football or any sport, but I cried. Glorious.’
Charlotte Wood, author of Stone Yard Devotional
‘The Season is marked by [Helen Garner’s] unsparing eye for detail and that superpower of detachment—a narrator who sees everything yet who is also deeply involved in the story, with emotional flourishes that rise when she watches her grandson.’
Age
‘Startling in its candour and compelling in its nakedness…A marvellous paean to the glories of youth just shy of the treacheries of manhood.’
Australian
‘One of Australia’s greatest living writers.’
Canberra Times
‘Garner’s real subject is the broader terrain of grace, loyalty, grit and what it means to be masculine today…It’s classic Garner actually: taut, observant prose, sprinkled with wry “nanna jokes” and descriptions that bring the scenes to life.’
ArtsHub
‘[Garner’s] observational skills and her ability to drill down into character and place, make this not only an excellent memoir but also an examination of nascent masculinity, ageing, and the place of sport in contemporary life.’
Good Reading
‘A deeply talented and intelligent writer…In this book performed in a minor key, Garner the grandmother is on song, displaying the very qualities she exalts in athletes: candour, discipline, vigilance and valour.’
Conversation
‘Over one footy season, Garner observes her youngest grandson’s U16 team at training and games, but of course, brings her vivid attention to masculinity, family, weather, ageing, our bodies, and much more.’
Matilda Bookshop
‘Is there anything more thrilling than reading Helen Garner on everyday things such as haircuts, the Melbourne skyline, ageing, AFL tactics, friendship and half-time oranges? A book for all seasons—not just the footy one!’
Gleaner
‘This is a book about sport. AFL. But this isn’t a polemic about football culture. This is, as Garner says, a nanna’s book about footy. Garner never says anything concrete. She dances around the roles of ritual in sport, and how it takes on a religious quality to those who follow it. Tracking her relationship with her youngest grandson over the season, she gives the utmost respect to the boys in the team and their constantly changing relationships with each other; they are the only characters (people?) with names in the entire book. The Season was a beautiful mix of sports and emotions, and while I didn’t learn a whole lot about the rules of AFL, I’m now obsessed with the relationship between Garner and her grandchildren.’
Better Read Than Dead
‘Garner comes at football with a naive perspective and a poet’s eye for detail. She’s just opened the door to this new world and voraciously eats it up: the courage of the young players, the language of its commentators, the commitment of its supporters. Her insights into the game were illuminating and, for me, cast it in a new light. I must admit that I have done the reverse to Garner: after being a football fanatic, I had fallen out of football’s thrall in recent times. After reading this book, I watched my first full game in years. The Season will be appreciated by football fans, of course, but it contains multitudes. Just like the game itself.’
Readings
‘A strong, beautiful book…The Garner of The Season is the Garner her readers know, with her exceptional control over language, her exceptional skill at observing and describing.’
Saturday Paper
‘[Garner] is working in epic mode in The Season as she examines familiar themes and preoccupations: masculinity and its codes, the pleasures and contradictions of social groups, what it means to bear witness…Garner has always been an extraordinary stylist and in The Season her prose, athletic, soars and dances, just like those young footballers.’
Guardian
‘Incredibly tender. About the seasons of football and the season of life…Written in her beautiful prose…I think people will enjoy it very much.’
Jason Steger, ABC RN The Bookshelf, Best Books of 2024
‘The sentences are precise and they sing. [Garner] turns from philosophical reverie on mortality, or violence, or masculine shame, to capturing the looseness and love with which a family talks footy…It’s a book of gentle pleasures and deep meanings…As ever, when you put a Helen Garner book down and look up at the world again, you do so with newly sharpened eyes.’
Monthly
‘[Helen Garner’s] prose is as luminous as ever.’
Australian Book Review
‘Characteristically sharp and tender. There’s nobody like Garner for her powers of observation and her keen appreciation of human beings.’
Michael Williams, Qantas Magazine
‘Regardless of your relationship to the sport, The Season is worth devouring—reflective of Garner’s ability to enthral us in any subject. Garner generously and joyously tells us about her relationship with her grandson Amby. It is refreshing and satisfying to read a book that is funny, perceptive of the complexities of masculinity but also current dialogues around gender, and is simply an ode to loving footy. It’s insightful into the lives of both teenage boys and 80-year-old women...So very “Melbourne”, it’s approachable, friendly, familiar, reminds me of my grandma, and a pleasurable Garner piece that will satisfy her loyalists! Read it!’
Paperback Bookshop
‘The Season is Death in Venice with Sherrin Balls…[Has an] ineffable longing for inclusion and camaraderie. And [Helen Garner’s] uncanny ear for dialogue, its rhythms and pacing, remains spot on.’
Declan Fry, Best Books of 2024, Guardian
‘Her perfect prose and sharp observations are a joy.’
Sydney Morning Herald
‘A gift of love to men, boys, parents and grandparents everywhere.’
Caroline Overington, Best Books of 2024, Australian
‘My new favourite book is Helen Garner’s The Season. She is one of Australia’s great writers and this new book is her hyper-focusing on her grandson’s footy team in west Melbourne…Not only is it a cool Melbourne story and connected to footy but it also feels like hanging out with your nanna.’
Broden Kelly, Guardian
‘This is a fine read, which anyone involved with a local team will be able to relate to…Strongly recommended.’
Cricket Web
‘It’s rare to be privy to an honest, incisive perspective on aging and mortality from someone who is in the last “season” of their life…Beautiful, beautiful stuff. We’re lucky to have [Helen Garner]!’
Diana Reid, author of Signs of Damage
‘I don’t know how Helen does it, but it’s a beautiful story of love and family and boyhood and sport all packaged down into her simple, glorious sentences.’
Meg Bignell, author of The Angry Women’s Choir
‘[a] meditative and moving account’
Wall Street Journal
September 17, 2025
A perfect book!
August 5, 2025
Helen Garner is a beloved institution of Australian literature, so not enjoying this book felt akin to committing sacrilege.
The Season has its strengths — Garner has this sensational ability to place people, and it especially works when she's writing about footballers who we've spent years looking at and watching. She has this sensational knack of pulling in these out-of-left-field descriptors that just perfectly fits the player she's describing. She builds momentum for the Colts' season well throughout and made me somewhat invested in the welfare of a boy named Boof, so well done there. It was at least interesting getting into an insight into the psychology of teenage boys who are more sporty, confident and outgoing than I was when I was 16.
But still... sheesh. There are stretches of this book where absolutely nothing of substance happens. Garner's observations as an outsider to football culture sometimes yields interesting and fresh insights, but there's a lot of remarking upon the unremarkable.
There's also a lot of, hm, centring whiteness (white people are introduced with rich descriptors of their features, while anyone non-white is firstly "an Asian boy" or "an Indian woman"). There's a general strangeness around the way Garner writes about bodies that belies a certain reverence for a particular kind of masculinity and a somewhat fraught relationship with larger bodies.
It's hard to interrogate all that from within my lived experience, and there are portions that Garner is admirably self-aware about her own grapples with mortality as an ageing woman whose body is starting to fail.
But whatever grace I could give for that is offset by the handful of moments that stopped me dead with moments of sheer, abject weirdness of it — Garner smugly arguing with her family over her right to keep photos of random children on her phone, points of swooning over the physique of teenage boys. Other reviews have fairly contextualised by pointing out Garner's age, and her own self-awareness about being somewhat of a different era, but it didn't really dull my displeasure reading this one. Maybe this one was a victim of heightened expectations (sorry to my lovely friends who adored this book).
The Season has its strengths — Garner has this sensational ability to place people, and it especially works when she's writing about footballers who we've spent years looking at and watching. She has this sensational knack of pulling in these out-of-left-field descriptors that just perfectly fits the player she's describing. She builds momentum for the Colts' season well throughout and made me somewhat invested in the welfare of a boy named Boof, so well done there. It was at least interesting getting into an insight into the psychology of teenage boys who are more sporty, confident and outgoing than I was when I was 16.
But still... sheesh. There are stretches of this book where absolutely nothing of substance happens. Garner's observations as an outsider to football culture sometimes yields interesting and fresh insights, but there's a lot of remarking upon the unremarkable.
There's also a lot of, hm, centring whiteness (white people are introduced with rich descriptors of their features, while anyone non-white is firstly "an Asian boy" or "an Indian woman"). There's a general strangeness around the way Garner writes about bodies that belies a certain reverence for a particular kind of masculinity and a somewhat fraught relationship with larger bodies.
It's hard to interrogate all that from within my lived experience, and there are portions that Garner is admirably self-aware about her own grapples with mortality as an ageing woman whose body is starting to fail.
But whatever grace I could give for that is offset by the handful of moments that stopped me dead with moments of sheer, abject weirdness of it — Garner smugly arguing with her family over her right to keep photos of random children on her phone, points of swooning over the physique of teenage boys. Other reviews have fairly contextualised by pointing out Garner's age, and her own self-awareness about being somewhat of a different era, but it didn't really dull my displeasure reading this one. Maybe this one was a victim of heightened expectations (sorry to my lovely friends who adored this book).
May 3, 2025
4.5 🌟
I've avoided AFL ever since I was a kid who loved playing Auskick and was so disappointed to learn there were no girls teams to continue playing footy when I'd outgrown Auskick. It felt so unfair to me and as a kid I took it personally. I resented my country towns commitment and reverence to the game when the same clubs Netball team was mostly ignored. Getting older it just got worse as the footy players/clubs were in the news for assaults, racism and homophobia.
Suffice to say, the only way I was going to read a book about football was if it was written by Helen Garner. Her observational powers are unmatched and her ability to make everyday small moments sacraments that make up a life, makes her one of my favourite authors. As she said, this book was more about her relationship with her youngest grandson and sharing this time with him before he becomes a man.
The themes/topic of this book were not ones I'd normally gravitate towards but they were exactly what I needed to explore.
"All my life I've fought men, lived under their regimes, been limited and frustrated by their power.....
I now begin to learn about boys and what they're obliged to do to themselves in order to live in this world, the codes of behavior they're had to develop in order to discipline and sublimate their drive to violence."
HG's changed my perspective and opened my mind a little, I won't be watching AFL anytime soon (I am keen to see my niece play footy though) but I think I can let go of some of that resentment.
I've avoided AFL ever since I was a kid who loved playing Auskick and was so disappointed to learn there were no girls teams to continue playing footy when I'd outgrown Auskick. It felt so unfair to me and as a kid I took it personally. I resented my country towns commitment and reverence to the game when the same clubs Netball team was mostly ignored. Getting older it just got worse as the footy players/clubs were in the news for assaults, racism and homophobia.
Suffice to say, the only way I was going to read a book about football was if it was written by Helen Garner. Her observational powers are unmatched and her ability to make everyday small moments sacraments that make up a life, makes her one of my favourite authors. As she said, this book was more about her relationship with her youngest grandson and sharing this time with him before he becomes a man.
The themes/topic of this book were not ones I'd normally gravitate towards but they were exactly what I needed to explore.
"All my life I've fought men, lived under their regimes, been limited and frustrated by their power.....
I now begin to learn about boys and what they're obliged to do to themselves in order to live in this world, the codes of behavior they're had to develop in order to discipline and sublimate their drive to violence."
HG's changed my perspective and opened my mind a little, I won't be watching AFL anytime soon (I am keen to see my niece play footy though) but I think I can let go of some of that resentment.
February 19, 2025
A memoir about Helen Garner following her grandson’s local footy club for a year. As always I appreciated Garner’s sharp eye, honesty and her clean writing. She uses a mix of precise language & colloquialisms that brings scenes to life & make you turn the page. Still, the practices & matches become repetitive & having lived it myself, not novel. It highlights community & the fact boys can be sensitive as well as violent. Not all men, etc. She likens football to an epic odyssey (and boys the heroes). I love how Garner can do this succinctly and intelligently (and for that matter, I love football), but I also felt that I’ve watched, seen and read many stories of boy-heroes. This one is personal and particular to Garner (& Amby her grandson) but didn’t hold as much interest for me.
The writing is 5 star, my enjoyment 3 star so I’ve landed on a 4.
The writing is 5 star, my enjoyment 3 star so I’ve landed on a 4.
October 25, 2024
I didn’t see Garner writing a book about a footy season but here she is writing a book about a footy season. It’s a sweet little nod to teenage boys on the verge of adulthood, more often presented at their worst. It’s a nod to all the footy lovers and it’s very Melbourne/Victoria.
December 26, 2024
What a wonderful book, documenting Helen’s grandson’s season of U16 football. As a footy mum, I loved every word!
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