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Taboo
From the two-times winner of the Miles Franklin Award
From Kim Scott, two-times winner of the Miles Franklin Literary Award, comes a work charged with ambition and poetry, in equal parts brutal, mysterious and idealistic, about a young woman cast into a drama that has been playing for over two hundred years ...
Taboo takes place in the present day, in the rural South-West of Western Australia, and tells the story of a group of Noongar people who revisit, for the first time in many decades, a taboo the site of a massacre that followed the assassination, by these Noongar's descendants, of a white man who had stolen a black woman. They come at the invitation of Dan Horton, the elderly owner of the farm on which the massacres unfolded. He hopes that by hosting the group he will satisfy his wife's dying wishes and cleanse some moral stain from the ground on which he and his family have lived for generations.
But the sins of the past will not be so easily expunged.
We walk with the ragtag group through this taboo country and note in them glimmers of re-connection with language, lore, country. We learn alongside them how countless generations of Noongar may have lived in ideal rapport with the land. This is a novel of survival and renewal, as much as destruction; and, ultimately, of hope as much as despair.
LONGLISTED FOR THE MILES FRANKLIN LITERARY AWARD 2018
LONGLISTED FOR THE ABIA LITERARY FICTION BOOK OF THE YEAR 2018
LONGLISTED FOR THE INDIE BOOK AWARDS FICTION 2018
SHORTLISTED FOR THE VICTORIAN PREMIER'S LITERARY AWARD FOR FICTION 2018
SHORTLISTED FOR THE COLIN RODERICK AWARD 2018
PRAISE FOR TABOO
"If Benang was the great novel of the assimilation system, and That Deadman Dance redefined the frontier novel in Australian writing, Taboo makes a strong case to be the novel that will help clarify - in the way that only literature can - what reconciliation might mean" Australian Book Review
"Scott's book is stunning - haunted and powerful ... Must Read" Herald Sun
"Remarkable" Stephen Romei, Weekend Australian
"Stunning prose" Saturday Paper
"This is a complex, thoughtful, and exceptionally generous offering by a master storyteller at the top of his game" The Guardian
"Undaunted, and daring as ever Scott goes back to his ancestral Noongar country in Western Australia's Great Southern region; back in time as well to killings (or a massacre, the point is contested) of whites and Aborigines there in 1880. . . Taboo never becomes a revenge story, whether for distant or recent wrongs . . . The politics of Taboo - not to presume or simplify too much - are quietist, rather than radical. Ambitious, unsentimental [and] morally challenging" Sydney Morning Herald
"Scott is one of the most thoughtful, exciting and powerful storytellers of this continent today, with great courage and formidable narrative prowess- and Taboo is his most daring novel yet" Sydney Review of Books
From Kim Scott, two-times winner of the Miles Franklin Literary Award, comes a work charged with ambition and poetry, in equal parts brutal, mysterious and idealistic, about a young woman cast into a drama that has been playing for over two hundred years ...
Taboo takes place in the present day, in the rural South-West of Western Australia, and tells the story of a group of Noongar people who revisit, for the first time in many decades, a taboo the site of a massacre that followed the assassination, by these Noongar's descendants, of a white man who had stolen a black woman. They come at the invitation of Dan Horton, the elderly owner of the farm on which the massacres unfolded. He hopes that by hosting the group he will satisfy his wife's dying wishes and cleanse some moral stain from the ground on which he and his family have lived for generations.
But the sins of the past will not be so easily expunged.
We walk with the ragtag group through this taboo country and note in them glimmers of re-connection with language, lore, country. We learn alongside them how countless generations of Noongar may have lived in ideal rapport with the land. This is a novel of survival and renewal, as much as destruction; and, ultimately, of hope as much as despair.
LONGLISTED FOR THE MILES FRANKLIN LITERARY AWARD 2018
LONGLISTED FOR THE ABIA LITERARY FICTION BOOK OF THE YEAR 2018
LONGLISTED FOR THE INDIE BOOK AWARDS FICTION 2018
SHORTLISTED FOR THE VICTORIAN PREMIER'S LITERARY AWARD FOR FICTION 2018
SHORTLISTED FOR THE COLIN RODERICK AWARD 2018
PRAISE FOR TABOO
"If Benang was the great novel of the assimilation system, and That Deadman Dance redefined the frontier novel in Australian writing, Taboo makes a strong case to be the novel that will help clarify - in the way that only literature can - what reconciliation might mean" Australian Book Review
"Scott's book is stunning - haunted and powerful ... Must Read" Herald Sun
"Remarkable" Stephen Romei, Weekend Australian
"Stunning prose" Saturday Paper
"This is a complex, thoughtful, and exceptionally generous offering by a master storyteller at the top of his game" The Guardian
"Undaunted, and daring as ever Scott goes back to his ancestral Noongar country in Western Australia's Great Southern region; back in time as well to killings (or a massacre, the point is contested) of whites and Aborigines there in 1880. . . Taboo never becomes a revenge story, whether for distant or recent wrongs . . . The politics of Taboo - not to presume or simplify too much - are quietist, rather than radical. Ambitious, unsentimental [and] morally challenging" Sydney Morning Herald
"Scott is one of the most thoughtful, exciting and powerful storytellers of this continent today, with great courage and formidable narrative prowess- and Taboo is his most daring novel yet" Sydney Review of Books
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First published July 25, 2017
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About the author
Kim Scott
73 books100 followersBorn in 1957, Kim Scott's ancestral Noongar country is the south-east coast of Western Australia between Gairdner River and Cape Arid. His cultural Elders use the term Wirlomin to refer to their clan, and the Norman Tindale nomenclature identifies people of this area as Wudjari/Koreng.
His novel Taboo won the Victorian premier’s literary award for Indigenous writing in 2019.
His other novels include True Country and Benang. He also writes poetry and short fiction. His professional background is in education and the arts.
His novel Taboo won the Victorian premier’s literary award for Indigenous writing in 2019.
His other novels include True Country and Benang. He also writes poetry and short fiction. His professional background is in education and the arts.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 207 reviews
June 3, 2020
4★
“Our hometown was a massacre place. People called it taboo. They said it is haunted and you will get sick if you go there. Others just bragged: we shot you and poisoned the waterholes so you never come back.”
That's the indigenous memory.
This is the white ‘history’.
“Of course it was a long time ago and – here Dan and Malcolm agreed – there was no real evidence of any more than a few Aborigines being killed. Undoubtedly, some were; they both remembered finding a skull wedged by the rock waterhole when they were still children . . . On their own property.”
The cause? A few generations ago, a white farmer had raped a thirteen-year-old Aboriginal girl, so he was killed by her people, on whose country he was. It was their customary reprisal. The white men then burnt the camps and went hunting, shooting people “like rabbits”, and many more than a few.
The local Noongar community are planning a Peace Park to promote reconciliation just as young Tilly has come back to town. She didn’t even know she belonged to this community until a few years ago, she’s troubled, she’s suffered abuse, she’s still marginally suicidal.
As well as a Peace Park, they are promoting the learning and speaking of language, which in this context means the local Aboriginal dialect, no matter which part of Australia you’re talking about or on whose country you’re standing. Tilly learns to say some words in language, which means the old language. Scott's characters use language here and there, in single words or phrases, which adds to the mood and tone.
Country (not “the” country) means that area to which the local indigenous people are connected. People talk of living on country. When outsiders visit, they may be given a Welcome to Country. Certain elders have the authority to speak for Country and perform the Welcomes.
Tilly knows none of this. She’s troubled, distressed, and coming off drugs (mostly). Her body language says it all.
“Tilly pulled her sleeves down past her wrists, and wrapped her legs around one another so tightly that they might have been woven together and the one loose shoelace the only thing awry.”
If you saw her sitting in a bus station or on a park bench, you’d know how desperate she felt. But when she’s brought back to the community, she’s welcomed by all. This is Jim’s girl, they tell each other. She has had a place held for her in the heart of this group, whether she wants it or not.
I very much enjoyed the to and fro that tugged Tilly between the elders, especially the women, and her strong fear of her abuser who still features in the story as part of the white community.
I loved some of the descriptive writing.
“Bougainvillea erupted on the fence, lunged at the house and, falling, made an archway.”
Less attractively picturesque, but packing a visual punch is this.
“A little group of bodies had attached itself to the belly of the bus, and watched the beast being gutted. Another group began to gather to see it stuffed again.”
Exactly right.
This is not a Noble Savage vs Evil Invader story, because there’s definitely good and bad all around, but you certainly get a very uncomfortable sense of what it means to be colonised, taken over, taken advantage of, to lose everything you ever knew, and to be trying desperately to revive it now, hundreds of years later. Language, country, pride. That’s without even considering the Stolen Generations.
The author, Kim Scott, has won the Miles Franklin award twice for other books I’ve not yet read, but intend to. In 2000, he became the first indigenous author to win the award with Benang: From the Heart, and he won it again in 2011 with That Deadman Dance.
About the award:
“The Miles Franklin Literary Award is Australia’s most prestigious literature prize. Established through the will of My Brilliant Career author, Miles Franklin, the prize is awarded each year to a novel which is of the highest literary merit and presents Australian life in any of its phases.
First presented in 1957, the Award helps to support authors and to foster uniquely Australian literature. Miles Franklin believed that ‘Without an indigenous literature, people can remain alien in their own soil.’ She also had first-hand experience of struggling to make a living as a writer and was the beneficiary of two literary prizes herself.”
This certainly stands out as Australian life in one of its sorriest phases, but it's also just a good read about a troubled girl and the people who want to help her.
“Our hometown was a massacre place. People called it taboo. They said it is haunted and you will get sick if you go there. Others just bragged: we shot you and poisoned the waterholes so you never come back.”
That's the indigenous memory.
This is the white ‘history’.
“Of course it was a long time ago and – here Dan and Malcolm agreed – there was no real evidence of any more than a few Aborigines being killed. Undoubtedly, some were; they both remembered finding a skull wedged by the rock waterhole when they were still children . . . On their own property.”
The cause? A few generations ago, a white farmer had raped a thirteen-year-old Aboriginal girl, so he was killed by her people, on whose country he was. It was their customary reprisal. The white men then burnt the camps and went hunting, shooting people “like rabbits”, and many more than a few.
The local Noongar community are planning a Peace Park to promote reconciliation just as young Tilly has come back to town. She didn’t even know she belonged to this community until a few years ago, she’s troubled, she’s suffered abuse, she’s still marginally suicidal.
As well as a Peace Park, they are promoting the learning and speaking of language, which in this context means the local Aboriginal dialect, no matter which part of Australia you’re talking about or on whose country you’re standing. Tilly learns to say some words in language, which means the old language. Scott's characters use language here and there, in single words or phrases, which adds to the mood and tone.
Country (not “the” country) means that area to which the local indigenous people are connected. People talk of living on country. When outsiders visit, they may be given a Welcome to Country. Certain elders have the authority to speak for Country and perform the Welcomes.
Tilly knows none of this. She’s troubled, distressed, and coming off drugs (mostly). Her body language says it all.
“Tilly pulled her sleeves down past her wrists, and wrapped her legs around one another so tightly that they might have been woven together and the one loose shoelace the only thing awry.”
If you saw her sitting in a bus station or on a park bench, you’d know how desperate she felt. But when she’s brought back to the community, she’s welcomed by all. This is Jim’s girl, they tell each other. She has had a place held for her in the heart of this group, whether she wants it or not.
I very much enjoyed the to and fro that tugged Tilly between the elders, especially the women, and her strong fear of her abuser who still features in the story as part of the white community.
I loved some of the descriptive writing.
“Bougainvillea erupted on the fence, lunged at the house and, falling, made an archway.”
Less attractively picturesque, but packing a visual punch is this.
“A little group of bodies had attached itself to the belly of the bus, and watched the beast being gutted. Another group began to gather to see it stuffed again.”
Exactly right.
This is not a Noble Savage vs Evil Invader story, because there’s definitely good and bad all around, but you certainly get a very uncomfortable sense of what it means to be colonised, taken over, taken advantage of, to lose everything you ever knew, and to be trying desperately to revive it now, hundreds of years later. Language, country, pride. That’s without even considering the Stolen Generations.
The author, Kim Scott, has won the Miles Franklin award twice for other books I’ve not yet read, but intend to. In 2000, he became the first indigenous author to win the award with Benang: From the Heart, and he won it again in 2011 with That Deadman Dance.
About the award:
“The Miles Franklin Literary Award is Australia’s most prestigious literature prize. Established through the will of My Brilliant Career author, Miles Franklin, the prize is awarded each year to a novel which is of the highest literary merit and presents Australian life in any of its phases.
First presented in 1957, the Award helps to support authors and to foster uniquely Australian literature. Miles Franklin believed that ‘Without an indigenous literature, people can remain alien in their own soil.’ She also had first-hand experience of struggling to make a living as a writer and was the beneficiary of two literary prizes herself.”
Perpetual/About the award
https://www.perpetual.com.au/milesfra...
This certainly stands out as Australian life in one of its sorriest phases, but it's also just a good read about a troubled girl and the people who want to help her.
January 6, 2022
Kim Scott's Taboo is set in the south-west of Western Australia in Kokanarup, a fictionalised version of Cocanarup - which sits right near the tiny rural towns of Ravensthorpe and Hopetown. This is an area I've visited often, and the thrill of seeing an area that I've never read in a book before get represented was something I immediately enjoyed about this.
Taboo follows Tilly, a young Indigenous girl who returns to Kokanarup with other members of her 'mob' at the wish of her dying father. Kokanarup is believed to be 'Taboo' for Indigenous people, due to the massacre that occured is the 19th century. Scott takes this true story as the core of his narrative - which explores the importance of place, family, and the experience of modern Indigenous people who have become divorced from their ancestral homes.
The returning of Tilly and her family starts their own path to healing, both in terms of their family and personal trauma, but also in terms of the wider context of colonial dislocation and the loss of place experienced by Indigenous people's.
Kim Scott is a Noongar man from the area and I really liked the authenticity came through. Not only in his descriptions of place, which made it clear he lived in the area, but also in the research and character development.
One theme I found interesting in this was the preoccupation with language. Scott is interested in blending languages and writing styles, but also in exploring how language connects us to people and place. This text was haunting and beautiful, primarily because of Scott's ability to blend language and write descriptive, heavy and emotional moments. The focus on the Noongar language and it's revival within the text was also something interesting, especially since Scott is heavily involved in this in real life. In this authors note, he mentioned only 300 people still speak the language at home. Scott is obviously interested in exploring how language, and the names we call things, plays a large role in forming identity and creating connectio to place.
I also enjoyed the way gothic tropes were embedded into the story. The twins, Gerald and Gerrard, one of whom could be seen as the others dark doppleganger. Or in the presense of hauntings and and supernatural occurences. Scott uses these gothic tropes into the post-colonial text to explore the ramifications and ongoing consequences colonialism in Australia has had. I loved the blending of features of western literature with this text which felt uniquely Australian.
The characters were also a highlight. Tilly, the main character, is easy to sympathise with, and I also enormously loved her lost uncle Gerald. The ending of both their stories were moving, and I thought Scott did a good job at concluding their stories and tying all the ends together.
I read this book in two sittings and really enjoyed it. I thought this had a lot to offer and would probably do so even more upon reread. I'm so far gunning for Taboo in this years Miles Franklin award. And this has been a good reminder to read Scott's earlier works.
Taboo follows Tilly, a young Indigenous girl who returns to Kokanarup with other members of her 'mob' at the wish of her dying father. Kokanarup is believed to be 'Taboo' for Indigenous people, due to the massacre that occured is the 19th century. Scott takes this true story as the core of his narrative - which explores the importance of place, family, and the experience of modern Indigenous people who have become divorced from their ancestral homes.
The returning of Tilly and her family starts their own path to healing, both in terms of their family and personal trauma, but also in terms of the wider context of colonial dislocation and the loss of place experienced by Indigenous people's.
Kim Scott is a Noongar man from the area and I really liked the authenticity came through. Not only in his descriptions of place, which made it clear he lived in the area, but also in the research and character development.
One theme I found interesting in this was the preoccupation with language. Scott is interested in blending languages and writing styles, but also in exploring how language connects us to people and place. This text was haunting and beautiful, primarily because of Scott's ability to blend language and write descriptive, heavy and emotional moments. The focus on the Noongar language and it's revival within the text was also something interesting, especially since Scott is heavily involved in this in real life. In this authors note, he mentioned only 300 people still speak the language at home. Scott is obviously interested in exploring how language, and the names we call things, plays a large role in forming identity and creating connectio to place.
I also enjoyed the way gothic tropes were embedded into the story. The twins, Gerald and Gerrard, one of whom could be seen as the others dark doppleganger. Or in the presense of hauntings and and supernatural occurences. Scott uses these gothic tropes into the post-colonial text to explore the ramifications and ongoing consequences colonialism in Australia has had. I loved the blending of features of western literature with this text which felt uniquely Australian.
The characters were also a highlight. Tilly, the main character, is easy to sympathise with, and I also enormously loved her lost uncle Gerald. The ending of both their stories were moving, and I thought Scott did a good job at concluding their stories and tying all the ends together.
I read this book in two sittings and really enjoyed it. I thought this had a lot to offer and would probably do so even more upon reread. I'm so far gunning for Taboo in this years Miles Franklin award. And this has been a good reminder to read Scott's earlier works.
July 26, 2018
There is something urgent and dreamy in the way that Scott writes. He entwines the emotional lives of his characters with their natural surroundings in telling the tale of a past atrocity and the lives that have emerged from that.
As a community gathers together for rehabilitation, reconciliation and literally to learn how to connect back to their roots, their stories and their traditions, the mystery of the Taboo is revealed. We move back and forth through time and learn about how characters have dealt with life since the Taboo, how they dealt with the hand they were given and what hope the future holds.
The book deals with some very dark issues and in particular the present life of the main protagonist Tilly and her search for identity in a pretty drug addled state of mind. There is also a very strong sense of community, family and love, a recognition of belonging and an urge to protect.
As a community gathers together for rehabilitation, reconciliation and literally to learn how to connect back to their roots, their stories and their traditions, the mystery of the Taboo is revealed. We move back and forth through time and learn about how characters have dealt with life since the Taboo, how they dealt with the hand they were given and what hope the future holds.
The book deals with some very dark issues and in particular the present life of the main protagonist Tilly and her search for identity in a pretty drug addled state of mind. There is also a very strong sense of community, family and love, a recognition of belonging and an urge to protect.
August 29, 2017
Read this for bookclub. The writing is poetic, the story engaging and the setting and central issues/themes so relevant to Australia today. I can see this novel becoming a text some schools will use for their students. Intriguing and thought
provoking discussion from this story.
provoking discussion from this story.
September 2, 2017
A sad, funny and eventually hopeful story about a group of Noongar people returning to their lands a century or so after a massacre. Scott is preoccupied with language and particularly with efforts to revive the Noongar language - the cultural connections forged by language and practices help to heal a community deeply damaged by colonisation and its after-effects (especially drugs and alcohol). The writing style took a while to work its way into my brain, but once I devoted some decent chunks of time to it, I found Taboo hugely worthwhile.
November 9, 2017
The premise of the story is compelling and what kept me reading to the end. However, the writing is overly descriptive (yes even for me) and detracts from the story itself. The interweaving of history with Doug and Tilly’s connection is interesting, but underdeveloped. It reads as almost fetishistic in parts rather than a demonstration of oppression being ultimately conquered. I can understand that we need to get a sense of Tilly’s experiences and how they help in turning her into such a powerful character in the end, but there is not enough punishment for the men in this book to feel a sense of resolution... The crescendo just didn’t just satisfy - I closed the book feeling disappointed.
May 28, 2018
What a read; brutal, bleak, but also brilliant.
Kim Scott is an indigenous Australian writer and the story he has written is about the Noongar Aboriginal people of Western Australia. Years ago, they were massacred by white settlers on their ancestral lands, and this place has now become taboo to them. Years later, the descendants come together with hopes of making amends, and for the First People to reconnect with their ancestral lands, bringing their music and language to the area. Sadly, this was based off true historical events.
On a closer level, we get to know Tilly and her family. She was fostered by a white couple as a young child, and has now returned to her Noongar family to reconnect with the old ways. She has experienced abuse at the hands of white people, and it is sad to read about the cycle of abuse and addiction within the family, which can be traced back to being in part due to enduring ramifications of colonisation and loss of cultural identity.
The story begins as it ends, and there is a sense of things coming full circle a number of times in this story. It is powerful and feels hopeful; I suppose this is a way of literature forging the path towards decolonisation and finding a way forward.
Kim Scott is an indigenous Australian writer and the story he has written is about the Noongar Aboriginal people of Western Australia. Years ago, they were massacred by white settlers on their ancestral lands, and this place has now become taboo to them. Years later, the descendants come together with hopes of making amends, and for the First People to reconnect with their ancestral lands, bringing their music and language to the area. Sadly, this was based off true historical events.
On a closer level, we get to know Tilly and her family. She was fostered by a white couple as a young child, and has now returned to her Noongar family to reconnect with the old ways. She has experienced abuse at the hands of white people, and it is sad to read about the cycle of abuse and addiction within the family, which can be traced back to being in part due to enduring ramifications of colonisation and loss of cultural identity.
The story begins as it ends, and there is a sense of things coming full circle a number of times in this story. It is powerful and feels hopeful; I suppose this is a way of literature forging the path towards decolonisation and finding a way forward.
April 27, 2018
The fragmented writing (train of thought and sentence structure) made it difficult to follow what was happening in this book. To some extent I can see purpose in this technique as it is representing a fragmented story of disconnection from place and people, drug taking and tenuous reconnecting but it just went a little to far for me to keep a grip on the story and really immerse myself.
The themes are important and I liked the approach of the various characters trying to find a way forward and heal. Clearly it is not an easy task to define events of the past, or what reconciliation should look like, in a way that is universally accepted.
The themes are important and I liked the approach of the various characters trying to find a way forward and heal. Clearly it is not an easy task to define events of the past, or what reconciliation should look like, in a way that is universally accepted.
August 8, 2017
Almost the first thing Kim Scott talked about, when I had the good fortune to meet and have more than a brief chat with him at the Victorian Premier’s Literary Awards night in 2011, was language…
Australians are getting comfortable with the meaning of the word ‘language’ in Australian Aboriginal English: like ‘country’, it is spoken without an article or a descriptive adjective. ‘Talking in language’ means speaking the indigenous language of a particular place and ‘being on country’ means being on the land on which they belong. I like this adaptation of the English that I speak (which is neither British nor Australian English, making me one of many here who have a hybrid language of our very own) because it means (amongst other things) both the language and a language and the country and a country. In a land like ours where there have always been multiple languages across multiple countries inhabited by multiple nations, the use of these words in this way is a reminder that for upwards of 60,000 years, the languages spoken by the Noongar or the Wiradjuri or the Bunerong did not need to be differentiated from a dominant, mainstream, default language, nor from the multiple languages other than English, which have been imported via European settlement and have flourished in greater variety since postwar migration. ‘Language’ and ‘country’ have an historic and cultural significance when used in this way.
On that night in 2011, the year that Scott’s novel That Deadman Dance won every award you can think of including his second Miles Franklin Award, Scott talked to me not about his book but about his involvement in the project to revive the language of the Noongar peoples from the southwest corner of Western Australia. I went home thinking about language in a different way (and I bought two of the bilingual children’s picture books that Scott had mentioned, and read them with the kids at school). Huge progress has been made in the revival of the Noongar language, (and I do urge you to check out this website to learn more about it) but Scott, in the Afterword to Taboo – noting that Noongar has been upgraded from ‘extinct’ to ‘living’ in a linguistics catalogue – still describes it as fragile, spoken at home by only 369 people in 2011, the year of our conversation. He says it is stronger than that, but still endangered.
So it is not surprising that language is central to the preoccupations of this novel. Languages matter. In the Afterword in which he talks about Taboo as a narrative of identity, Scott references an Irish author called Tim Robinson who says of Ireland and its indigenous language:
The ‘deathly stew’ in Taboo takes place in a world away from the redemptive possibilities of That Deadman Dance.
To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2017/08/08/t...
Australians are getting comfortable with the meaning of the word ‘language’ in Australian Aboriginal English: like ‘country’, it is spoken without an article or a descriptive adjective. ‘Talking in language’ means speaking the indigenous language of a particular place and ‘being on country’ means being on the land on which they belong. I like this adaptation of the English that I speak (which is neither British nor Australian English, making me one of many here who have a hybrid language of our very own) because it means (amongst other things) both the language and a language and the country and a country. In a land like ours where there have always been multiple languages across multiple countries inhabited by multiple nations, the use of these words in this way is a reminder that for upwards of 60,000 years, the languages spoken by the Noongar or the Wiradjuri or the Bunerong did not need to be differentiated from a dominant, mainstream, default language, nor from the multiple languages other than English, which have been imported via European settlement and have flourished in greater variety since postwar migration. ‘Language’ and ‘country’ have an historic and cultural significance when used in this way.
On that night in 2011, the year that Scott’s novel That Deadman Dance won every award you can think of including his second Miles Franklin Award, Scott talked to me not about his book but about his involvement in the project to revive the language of the Noongar peoples from the southwest corner of Western Australia. I went home thinking about language in a different way (and I bought two of the bilingual children’s picture books that Scott had mentioned, and read them with the kids at school). Huge progress has been made in the revival of the Noongar language, (and I do urge you to check out this website to learn more about it) but Scott, in the Afterword to Taboo – noting that Noongar has been upgraded from ‘extinct’ to ‘living’ in a linguistics catalogue – still describes it as fragile, spoken at home by only 369 people in 2011, the year of our conversation. He says it is stronger than that, but still endangered.
So it is not surprising that language is central to the preoccupations of this novel. Languages matter. In the Afterword in which he talks about Taboo as a narrative of identity, Scott references an Irish author called Tim Robinson who says of Ireland and its indigenous language:
‘In talk about land and language, there is always a whiff of a third element, blood. The three have historically made up a deathly stew.’ (Tim Robinson, quoted by Scott on p284)
The ‘deathly stew’ in Taboo takes place in a world away from the redemptive possibilities of That Deadman Dance.
To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2017/08/08/t...
September 11, 2017
I read this while visiting central Australia. It's set in Scott's local area in Western Australia but it seems many of the issues for Indigenous Australians are similar. Main character Tilly, a troubled young girl, reconnects with her family. We see more clearly how kinship works so powerfully to give meaning to her life. Written in beautiful prose, some sharp, sometimes dreamlike, you are immersed in the minds and spirits of many different people. Sensational writing, I hope it gets Scott up for a third Miles Franklin award.
January 30, 2021
This is my first Kim Scott novel and it won’t be my last. What a story, the authenticity that came through, the character development and the description of the place was so well done. It’s a story about trauma and healing. This text was haunting and beautiful, primarily because of Scott's ability to blend language and write descriptive, heavy and emotional moments.
“Our hometown was a massacre place. People called it taboo. They said it is haunted and you will get sick if you go there. Others just bragged: we shot you and poisoned the waterholes so you never come back.”
“Our hometown was a massacre place. People called it taboo. They said it is haunted and you will get sick if you go there. Others just bragged: we shot you and poisoned the waterholes so you never come back.”
November 2, 2017
Kim Scott writes with the assurance of someone who’s in no rush; it’s pared back, allowing for gaps in what is said, and the characters follow a winding path, stopping to observe the trees, an eagle, tell stories. At times this felt contrived, but it’s a vital history, told without judgment.
It resists being a fast-paced read and instead gives honest characters (like Tilly, a flawed teen & resilient survivor) and an ancient culture. #ownvoices #Australia
It resists being a fast-paced read and instead gives honest characters (like Tilly, a flawed teen & resilient survivor) and an ancient culture. #ownvoices #Australia
June 5, 2018
I’m not sure what I feel or think about this novel. It’s a complex piece, at times blurring the real world with the spirit, present day memory with historical, satire with the mundane. I often got lost, needing to read and re read and I found it hard to build a solid sense of the characters and the place.
April 21, 2018
An incredibly beautiful but sorrowful story. Kim Scott is a master storyteller. His characterisation is honest - you are vividly transported into the lives of each person. The stereotypes are skilfully & aptly used. You feel what it would be like to be on both sides of this story, indigenous or 4th generation settler. Vocabulary, expression, colloquialisms, imagery are excellent! This is not a feel-good, everyone reconciles novel - it’s heart-breaking & authentic. An incredible (some explicit language) novel for senior students.
May 14, 2018
I didn't finish this. I couldn't concentrate on the story and I just kept getting distracted. So I've pulled the plug
June 2, 2020
I wanted to like this much more than I did. The writing is descriptive and dreamy, but the subject matter is awful. I understand that it's real and important but, usually, I avoid real like the plague and hang in paranormal and sci-fi worlds. Reading about historical massacres of Aboriginal people, rape, drug use, torture/imprisonment and just all the bad things you can imagine was not what I needed. There were so many characters, but all with such sad stories. I need to get back to my unreal worlds.
September 14, 2018
I feel quite affected by this. Leaves you with a glow at the end like many a great novel does but there is so much more to it. It's a novel that should be disseminated far and wide. I'm surprised it didn't win the Miles Franklin Prize in 2018 even though it did win a number of other prizes. Looking forward to going back and reading Kim Scott's other novels that have been difficult to start in the past. He is a master at his craft.
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November 21, 2017Wonderful insight to the Indigenous perspective in Australia. I loved the humour and gritty reality of it. Scott tells it like it is...but I also enjoyed the use of magical realism. The scene with Maureen the Aboriginal Support Officer was a classic! I think I need to read everything by Kim Scott now.
March 29, 2019
Brutal.
July 14, 2022
3.5 stars. An interesting, original, tragic, somewhat difficult novel to read, about a group of aborigines going back to their lands where an aboriginal massacre by whites took place some generations ago. The author makes interesting points about the Australian aborigines sense of place and family.
I prefer and recommend the author’s books, ‘Benang’ and ‘That Deadman Dance’, both winners of the Miles Franklin award.
This book was shortlisted for the 2018 Miles Franklin award.
I prefer and recommend the author’s books, ‘Benang’ and ‘That Deadman Dance’, both winners of the Miles Franklin award.
This book was shortlisted for the 2018 Miles Franklin award.
December 13, 2018
Important and powerful.
June 13, 2020
Actual rating: 3.5 stars
Wow this book has emotionally heavy subject matter and I'm not sure I can write a review to do the content justice. Scott tells the story of Tilly, a young Indigenous woman with a Noongar father and a white mother, as she goes on a journey, quite literally, to connect with her father's culture and family and discover who she is. With themes of racism, substance abuse, sexual assault, identity, and elements of a coming-of-age arc, Taboo is often very confronting, yet it is a necessary story as the events are often the reality of far too many people.
Scott uses an interesting writing style to weave the story together; disjointed at times, often in incomplete sentences, and varied in the amount of punctuation used for dialogue. Many lines spoken out loud by Tilly have no punctuation. The punctuated replies to Tilly by other characters let the reader know she has spoken out loud. The importance of language is heavily intertwined with identity, and Scott made my heart ache for the sense of belonging and place these people have lost.
However, the Noongar people have managed to find each other, and are in a healing process. They visit the property on which a massacre of their people occurred late in the 19th century, trying to reconnect with their country and ancestors. This broken family trying to piece themselves together and reconcile the past are contrasted with Dan, the dismissive white owner of the property. He fails to acknowledge and accept the inter-generational trauma caused by past events, much the same as many white Australians still fail to do today.
I didn't start enjoying this book until about halfway through, when 'Part I' finished, which is why my rating is not quite 4 stars; I was really hoping I'd enjoy more than I did. I would recommend Taboo to anyone interested in reading an Indigenous perspective on Australia, and learning the inter-generational effects of losing access to country, family and culture.
Wow this book has emotionally heavy subject matter and I'm not sure I can write a review to do the content justice. Scott tells the story of Tilly, a young Indigenous woman with a Noongar father and a white mother, as she goes on a journey, quite literally, to connect with her father's culture and family and discover who she is. With themes of racism, substance abuse, sexual assault, identity, and elements of a coming-of-age arc, Taboo is often very confronting, yet it is a necessary story as the events are often the reality of far too many people.
Scott uses an interesting writing style to weave the story together; disjointed at times, often in incomplete sentences, and varied in the amount of punctuation used for dialogue. Many lines spoken out loud by Tilly have no punctuation. The punctuated replies to Tilly by other characters let the reader know she has spoken out loud. The importance of language is heavily intertwined with identity, and Scott made my heart ache for the sense of belonging and place these people have lost.
However, the Noongar people have managed to find each other, and are in a healing process. They visit the property on which a massacre of their people occurred late in the 19th century, trying to reconnect with their country and ancestors. This broken family trying to piece themselves together and reconcile the past are contrasted with Dan, the dismissive white owner of the property. He fails to acknowledge and accept the inter-generational trauma caused by past events, much the same as many white Australians still fail to do today.
I didn't start enjoying this book until about halfway through, when 'Part I' finished, which is why my rating is not quite 4 stars; I was really hoping I'd enjoy more than I did. I would recommend Taboo to anyone interested in reading an Indigenous perspective on Australia, and learning the inter-generational effects of losing access to country, family and culture.
September 8, 2017
To read this story is to enter a different reality.
It is a weaving of today's struggle for recognition and social fragmentation; with old ways and language. It is a confronting & honest account of the terrible impact of alcohol and drugs on society. It was a bit confusing at times but in a way this reflected the inner conflict of some of the characters. There is such a strong sense of the spirits being ever present in the characters' lives. I think Tilly is a symbol of hope for her community. I suspect this could be a controversial novel as it alludes to many shameful subjects - The things we bury in history; The ignorance of white fellas; The disrespect and abuse of women; substance abuse; incarceration; property ownership... some subtly and others less so.
To enjoy this book you have to surrender to the hubbub of the story. Give it a go.
It is a weaving of today's struggle for recognition and social fragmentation; with old ways and language. It is a confronting & honest account of the terrible impact of alcohol and drugs on society. It was a bit confusing at times but in a way this reflected the inner conflict of some of the characters. There is such a strong sense of the spirits being ever present in the characters' lives. I think Tilly is a symbol of hope for her community. I suspect this could be a controversial novel as it alludes to many shameful subjects - The things we bury in history; The ignorance of white fellas; The disrespect and abuse of women; substance abuse; incarceration; property ownership... some subtly and others less so.
To enjoy this book you have to surrender to the hubbub of the story. Give it a go.
January 24, 2018
My first time reading any of Kim Scott’s work.
The writing is absolutely superb, but the story was not particularly engaging enough. I felt at true distance from the characters, which may have been intentional, but affected my overall reading experience.
It was interesting in that it was surreal and mystical, but I’m not sure it was pulled off in a manner that was cohesive. I was a little confused.
I don’t think I was ready for this book, so I’m
not sure I want to write it off completely. I wouldn’t mind picking it up in a few years and having another crack at it.
The writing is absolutely superb, but the story was not particularly engaging enough. I felt at true distance from the characters, which may have been intentional, but affected my overall reading experience.
It was interesting in that it was surreal and mystical, but I’m not sure it was pulled off in a manner that was cohesive. I was a little confused.
I don’t think I was ready for this book, so I’m
not sure I want to write it off completely. I wouldn’t mind picking it up in a few years and having another crack at it.
October 4, 2019
I have mixed feelings about this one. The first 100 pages was far too slow. Very little happened and the writing did not capture my interest to begin with. The second half was a great improvement, although I'm still not sure how I feel about the ending. I will say though, the author does a good job of observing, without judgement.
September 25, 2019
I couldn’t believe this book won the Miles Franklin Award. I found Part 1 to be tedious with too many descriptions that were vague. The storyline was absent and I had to force myself to keep coming back to it.
The storyline in part 2 was way more interesting but I found it bleak. Finally managed to finish it but would not recommend it to others as a good or easy read.
The storyline in part 2 was way more interesting but I found it bleak. Finally managed to finish it but would not recommend it to others as a good or easy read.
July 7, 2023
I’m not completely sure what I think. If I had read this five years ago I think it would have been an unequivocal rave review. The writing is beautiful, evocative of place and culture, and the story compelled me forward, I had a hard time putting it down. Truly, in many ways I loved this novel.
However, I’m old and way less tolerant of predatory abusive behaviour then I used to be. I’m also less tolerant of men writing from the pov of people who aren’t men (Kim Scott is a man). Each of these points influenced the other, and grated against my mind as I read. One of the main pov’s is a teenaged girl, and one of the storylines involves grooming and abuse. The pov of the teen girl felt like the least convincing part of the story. The grooming and abuse made me mad in a way that made it difficult for me to think critically about how it was written.
Having said all that I don’t feel any certainty in my discomfort. Physical and sexual abuse of Aboriginal women and children is a pervasive problem, and Scott is writing a novel about his Noongar community. I think (hope) I’ll have a clearer sense of what I think, once I’ve had some time to sit with it.
If you love great literary fiction, that leaves some threads unanswered at the end, you’ll probably love this one too. It really is a compelling, well drawn story of a community of contemporary Noongar people returning to the site of a terrible massacre of their ancestors, and the farmer who currently owns the land.
Obvious CW for SA, grooming, r*pe, gaslighting. Also for racism and genocide.
However, I’m old and way less tolerant of predatory abusive behaviour then I used to be. I’m also less tolerant of men writing from the pov of people who aren’t men (Kim Scott is a man). Each of these points influenced the other, and grated against my mind as I read. One of the main pov’s is a teenaged girl, and one of the storylines involves grooming and abuse. The pov of the teen girl felt like the least convincing part of the story. The grooming and abuse made me mad in a way that made it difficult for me to think critically about how it was written.
Having said all that I don’t feel any certainty in my discomfort. Physical and sexual abuse of Aboriginal women and children is a pervasive problem, and Scott is writing a novel about his Noongar community. I think (hope) I’ll have a clearer sense of what I think, once I’ve had some time to sit with it.
If you love great literary fiction, that leaves some threads unanswered at the end, you’ll probably love this one too. It really is a compelling, well drawn story of a community of contemporary Noongar people returning to the site of a terrible massacre of their ancestors, and the farmer who currently owns the land.
Obvious CW for SA, grooming, r*pe, gaslighting. Also for racism and genocide.
August 7, 2018
Four and half stars
Taboo is contemporary fiction, with not only an Indigenous perspective of our shared history but also with an eye towards our possible shared future. I found it to be an extraordinary feat of compassion, revelation and hope.
After stumbling through the first 50 pages or so, lost and unsure how to proceed, I found a kind of rhythm and sense to the disjointed passages. The jumps and starts started to feel symbolic and purposeful. I then began to see the poetry in the chaos.
Scott described this style in the Afterword as,
a trippy, stumbling sort of genre-hop that I think features a trace of Fairy Tale, a touch of Gothic, a sufficiency of the ubiquitous Social Realism and perhaps a tease of Creation Story.
The story at the heart of Taboo is the memory of an 18th century massacre and the work that a small country town in W.A. does to heal this wound. From this brutal past, with all its miscommunication, misinterpretation & denial as well as the stark realities of modern life for many Aboriginal Australians, Scott encourages us to find connection and shared meaning.
And country....
Full review here - http://bronasbooks.blogspot.com/2018/...
Taboo is contemporary fiction, with not only an Indigenous perspective of our shared history but also with an eye towards our possible shared future. I found it to be an extraordinary feat of compassion, revelation and hope.
After stumbling through the first 50 pages or so, lost and unsure how to proceed, I found a kind of rhythm and sense to the disjointed passages. The jumps and starts started to feel symbolic and purposeful. I then began to see the poetry in the chaos.
Scott described this style in the Afterword as,
a trippy, stumbling sort of genre-hop that I think features a trace of Fairy Tale, a touch of Gothic, a sufficiency of the ubiquitous Social Realism and perhaps a tease of Creation Story.
The story at the heart of Taboo is the memory of an 18th century massacre and the work that a small country town in W.A. does to heal this wound. From this brutal past, with all its miscommunication, misinterpretation & denial as well as the stark realities of modern life for many Aboriginal Australians, Scott encourages us to find connection and shared meaning.
And country....
Full review here - http://bronasbooks.blogspot.com/2018/...
May 19, 2025
DNF - about 70% done and I think I'm going to leave this one here.
I really tried with this one but I just didn't find myself getting into it at all. I found listening on audio was difficult, there was so many characters being introduced and the setting changed quite a lot which was hard to follow. It is written beautifully, but I think the overly descriptive nature of this book also contributed to my difficulty following along. Maybe I'll pick up again one day but for now I'm leaving this one here. I don't feel like I'm missing any of the story either by not making it to the end, I kinda get where it is going.
No quotes, listened on audio.
I really tried with this one but I just didn't find myself getting into it at all. I found listening on audio was difficult, there was so many characters being introduced and the setting changed quite a lot which was hard to follow. It is written beautifully, but I think the overly descriptive nature of this book also contributed to my difficulty following along. Maybe I'll pick up again one day but for now I'm leaving this one here. I don't feel like I'm missing any of the story either by not making it to the end, I kinda get where it is going.
No quotes, listened on audio.
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