From the award-winning author of Mad Meg (winner of the 1995 Australian National Book Council's Banjo Award) comes Window Gods, a brilliant, incisive work of art that tackles the big issues on a broad canvas: juggling the responsibilities of family whilst carving out some space for the self; the responsibilities of womanhood; negotiating the role of the mother - bringing together the pieces of a fractured life into a productive whole.
56-year-old Isobel is an artist struggling to engage deeply with her subject matter while the responsibilities of womanhood tug her in all directions - her ancient mother, her son and her late sister's daughter. When a lawsuit brought by her half sister and her husband's cancer diagnosis collide, Isobel is thrown from one crisis to the next. Then her son disappears in Afghanistan. In a situation resembling a global Middlemarch, Isobel sets off to find her son. The journey takes her away from her ailing mother to Afghanistan, where on her journey she finds courage in friendship and new horizons.
Strengthened and empowered, Isobel comes home to the bushfire season and her mother's last, hilarious days as she prepares to meet her God. Window Gods is about family, inheritance and change. Making sense of where you are and making sense of life in the absence of a single authority, or any of the old gods. Full of astute observations about life, death and everything in between it's a wry, funny and intelligent look at modern life - in all its glory.
Born in Sydney and now living in Melbourne, Sally Morrison originally trained as a molecular biologist before beginning her writing career in the 1970s.
Her work includes the play Hag, short story collection I Am Boat, and novels Who's Taking You to the Dance, Against Gravity, The Insatiable Desire of Injured Love and the award-winning Mad Meg, which is set in the same world as Window Gods. Her last book was a biography of Clifton Pugh, After Fire.
Sally Morrison’s 2014 novel “Window Gods” came as a complete surprise to me. I was expecting something more ‘botanical’ because of the cover illustration, which hints at her protagonist, Isabel’s scientific research into the way Australia’s native orchids reproduce in the wild. Survival is the theme of this thoroughly engaging novel, with its four generations of women – Isabel’s mother, Stella, Isabel, her late sister Allegra, Allegra’s daughter Nin. It is also the story of the men who impact their lives, for better or worse – Allegra’s husband David and Isabel’s son Eli in particular. Eli is a freelance photojournalist who manages to become entangled in dramas at home and abroad, most recently in war-torn Afghanistan, where he eventually goes missing. “Window Gods” – a reference to one of Isabel’s artworks, as well as to the lives of the people in her life, impacting and reflecting one on the other – takes us through the Melbourne art scene, with the precarious existence of small galleries and personal jealousies, to the bombed out cityscapes of Kabul. It’s a heady journey, which is at times hilariously funny, particularly when Isabel’s mother Stella must transition from one elderly care facility to another. These passages will ring familiar to anyone who has been involved with close relatives (particularly feisty ones) in aged care. Frightfully funny, but for those living through such scenarios, not for the faint-hearted. “Window Gods” is a wonderful novel that encompasses many lives, family quarrels and alliances, and leaves one with a sense of triumph for those who survive the journey.
I found this book disappointing. The author certainly has a nice turn of phrase, but the structure of the story was very fragmented. A lot of backstory was introduced in a conversation near the beginning, and I had to go back several times to that section to try to remember who was who and what was going on. But then the story seemed to s=change to another one, and characters were introduced without really knowing why they were there or how they fitted in to the story. Then suddenly were are in Afghanistan and there is a whole lot of detail about that, without much introduction, and we're looking for this son who ahs never really been properly introduced and don't really care about. It's a shame because she is a good writer, but I don't; know if she is a good storyteller. Or she needs a better editor or something.
While no where near as provocative, this book reminded me a little bit of Christos Tsolkias's The Slap, in the sense that it had very abrasive and unlikeable characters and held up the mirror (somewhat) to modern day Australia (an Australia I don't know very well, having been gone nearly a decade. The Australia I remember is most accurately captured in Richard Flanagan's The Accidental Terrorist, but that's by the by).
I liked the layering of metaphor - the rare native orchids that only bloom after fire, symbolic of what is going on (and has gone on) in the protagonist Isobel's life. And when the events of the novel start taking place alongside real events from history, the shock of realisation creeps up on you, not unlike the ending of Michelle de Kretser's Questions of Travel.
The sections that took place in Afghanistan were interesting but I did find my attention wandering here and there...I found the subplot of her ageing mother Stella and getting her rehoused once her nursing home closes more compelling, as I felt it had a stronger political message (which some may disagree with, this is just my opinion).
Most of all I enjoyed the writing, Isobel's voice was very convincing and in fact reminded me of a few women of her generation that I know. A good read. I'm curious to read more of Sally Morrison's work.
Often, especially with gift books I've never heard of, I'll launch in without reading the blurb. Looking for a lovely surprise story without preconceptions - that's almost what happened here. This novel is a bit more 'high brow' than my usual and to be honest I still can't work out if I really liked it or not. Sometimes I found the main character, Isobel, foolish, irritating and snobby but then she would go ahead and prove me wrong. As for plot, this novel went in many directions that I never saw coming (probably would have if I read the blurb!), some were quite wonderful, yet I still found it tedious at times. But just when I was about to give up through boredom, it would take hold again. Apparently Window Gods was a follow on from a book called Mad Meg (could the literary geniuses of the world please excuse my ignorance) Ultimately I do think this is a good read, it has some beautiful writing and I am glad it was given to me.
At the back of my mind though, while reading it, was "what has this got to do with Dr Who?". The non-reader who gave me this booked walked in a shop and said "I need a book for a girl who likes Dr Who" and thus Window Gods became my Christmas present......yep, I think the sales guy did an ennie mennie minnie mo :)
Introspective and absorbed in her own life, I found the main protagonist in this book to be neither likeable or unlikeable. And in some ways this summed up my thoughts on the book too. Beautifully written as it was, by far the most interesting moments came when recounting experiences in Pakistan and Afghanistan. The finer details of life back in Australia – ageing mother, family conflict, the creation of art – hummed along but never really reached a climax.
Almost abandoned at about page 170. But I had nothing else handy so kept reading. Interesting incidents scattered amongst pages of tedious detail of characters who are not introduced in a manner helpful to the reader. Kept asking myself, "Who is this person?", but wasn't interested enough to flip back to try to find out who they were or how they fitted in. If there was a point to the book, I missed it.