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Where the Trees Were
A beautiful new novel about the innocence of childhood and the scars that stay with you for life, from the award winning author of Mr Wigg and Nest .
'All in?' Kieran pulled me up, and the others followed. We gathered around the bigger tree. No one asked Matty - he just reached up and put his right hand on the trunk with ours.
Kieran cleared his throat. 'We swear, on these trees, to always be friends. To protect each other - and this place.'
Finding those carved trees forged a bond between Jay and her four childhood friends and opened their eyes to a wider world. But their attempt to protect the grove ends in disaster, and that one day on the river changes their lives forever.
Seventeen years later, Jay finally has her chance to make amends. But at what cost? Not every wrong can be put right, but sometimes looking the other way is no longer an option.
'All in?' Kieran pulled me up, and the others followed. We gathered around the bigger tree. No one asked Matty - he just reached up and put his right hand on the trunk with ours.
Kieran cleared his throat. 'We swear, on these trees, to always be friends. To protect each other - and this place.'
Finding those carved trees forged a bond between Jay and her four childhood friends and opened their eyes to a wider world. But their attempt to protect the grove ends in disaster, and that one day on the river changes their lives forever.
Seventeen years later, Jay finally has her chance to make amends. But at what cost? Not every wrong can be put right, but sometimes looking the other way is no longer an option.
304 pages, Paperback
First published March 22, 2016
8 people are currently reading
897 people want to read
About the author
Inga Simpson
19 books278 followersInga is the award-winning author of THE THINNING, WILLOWMAN, THE LAST WOMAN IN THE WORLD, THE BOOK OF AUSTRALIAN TREES, UNDERSTORY: a life with trees, WHERE THE TREES WERE, NEST and MR WIGG.
A novelist and nature writer, her work explores our relationship with the natural world.
Inga grew up in central west NSW, and has lived in Canberra, Brisbane and the Sunshine Coast. She is now based on the far south coast of NSW.
WILLOWMAN was shortlisted for the Bookpeople adult fiction Book of the Year 2023.
UNDERSTORY: a life with trees (2017), Inga's first book-length work of nature writing, was shortlisted for the Adelaide Writers Week prize for nonfiction.
WHERE THE TREES WERE (2016) was shortlisted for an Indie Award, and longlisted for the Miles Franklin Literary Award, ABIA book awards and Green Carnation Prize.
NEST (2014) was shortlisted for the ALS Gold Medal, and longlisted for the Miles Franklin Literary Award and the Stella Prize.
Her debut novel, MR WIGG, was selected for the 2011 QWC/Hachette manuscript developemnt program and, as a result, published by Hachette in 2013. MR WIGG was shortlisted for an Indie Award and longlisted for the Dobbie Award.
In 2012, Inga was the winner of the final Eric Rolls nature essay prize.
She has a PhDs in creative writing and English literature, and her short work has been published in Griffith Review, Wonderground, the Review of Australian Fiction, Clues, WQ, and the Dictionary of Literary Biography.
A novelist and nature writer, her work explores our relationship with the natural world.
Inga grew up in central west NSW, and has lived in Canberra, Brisbane and the Sunshine Coast. She is now based on the far south coast of NSW.
WILLOWMAN was shortlisted for the Bookpeople adult fiction Book of the Year 2023.
UNDERSTORY: a life with trees (2017), Inga's first book-length work of nature writing, was shortlisted for the Adelaide Writers Week prize for nonfiction.
WHERE THE TREES WERE (2016) was shortlisted for an Indie Award, and longlisted for the Miles Franklin Literary Award, ABIA book awards and Green Carnation Prize.
NEST (2014) was shortlisted for the ALS Gold Medal, and longlisted for the Miles Franklin Literary Award and the Stella Prize.
Her debut novel, MR WIGG, was selected for the 2011 QWC/Hachette manuscript developemnt program and, as a result, published by Hachette in 2013. MR WIGG was shortlisted for an Indie Award and longlisted for the Dobbie Award.
In 2012, Inga was the winner of the final Eric Rolls nature essay prize.
She has a PhDs in creative writing and English literature, and her short work has been published in Griffith Review, Wonderground, the Review of Australian Fiction, Clues, WQ, and the Dictionary of Literary Biography.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 143 reviews
March 31, 2024
Jay, Kieran, his brother Matty, Ian and Josh were best friends and during school holidays they raced around the farm; spending time by the river and swimming to their heart’s content. It was 1987 and they had their lives ahead of them. They lived in the here and now, having so much fun and being let roam by their parents who had been on this land for a long time. But the day the five friends discovered carved trees in a grove on the river’s edge was the day their lives changed forever. Vowing to always remain friends and to protect the grove – keep the secret even from their parents – wasn’t difficult; but when disaster struck their worlds were rocked to their very core…
In 2004 Jayne was working in Canberra at a well-known art gallery; as a senior conservationist her speciality was in Australian artworks, especially Aboriginal artefacts and arborglyphs. Her delight in discovering previously uncovered gems and painstakingly researching their origin was special to Jayne. She was also a keen cyclist and spent her time on the cycle paths of Canberra imagining she was racing in the Tour de France. The chill of Canberra’s winter didn’t let up; the crunch of ice beneath her wheels kept her moving.
But that time from Jayne’s youth was always in her mind. Was it possible for her to fix the wrongs of the past? Could she ease the pain in her heart or was it an impossible quest?
Wow! This author is an amazing writer! Where the Trees Were by Aussie author Inga Simpson took me back to my childhood where we used to run wild, begrudging school and keen for the weekend so the fun could begin again. Adult Jayne and her life in Canberra was very familiar, as I lived in that city for six years myself – I could feel the freezing air on my face. Told in two time frames in first person for the teenage Jayne and second person for the adult Jayne, Where the Trees Were is a beautifully told, outstanding addition to this author’s work and one I highly recommend.
In 2004 Jayne was working in Canberra at a well-known art gallery; as a senior conservationist her speciality was in Australian artworks, especially Aboriginal artefacts and arborglyphs. Her delight in discovering previously uncovered gems and painstakingly researching their origin was special to Jayne. She was also a keen cyclist and spent her time on the cycle paths of Canberra imagining she was racing in the Tour de France. The chill of Canberra’s winter didn’t let up; the crunch of ice beneath her wheels kept her moving.
But that time from Jayne’s youth was always in her mind. Was it possible for her to fix the wrongs of the past? Could she ease the pain in her heart or was it an impossible quest?
Wow! This author is an amazing writer! Where the Trees Were by Aussie author Inga Simpson took me back to my childhood where we used to run wild, begrudging school and keen for the weekend so the fun could begin again. Adult Jayne and her life in Canberra was very familiar, as I lived in that city for six years myself – I could feel the freezing air on my face. Told in two time frames in first person for the teenage Jayne and second person for the adult Jayne, Where the Trees Were is a beautifully told, outstanding addition to this author’s work and one I highly recommend.
September 11, 2017
4★
“The cuts were deep and wide, right into the heartwood, like fingers making a river. Scrolls and diamonds filled the space around it. It all meant something. It meant a lot. We knew that straight away. We didn’t quite understand, the way we didn’t fully understand a lot of things. At the same time we almost did, although it was more than we could have explained. And we knew that we all felt the same, without having to speak. It was as if the trees said everything for us.”
A group of five teen-aged kids, schoolfriends, muck around by the river on their own on Jayne’s family’s farm, and one day, Kieran, the eldest, makes a discovery and takes the others to see it. There are five trees with interesting carvings on them. They decide they will keep this a secret from their parents.
“Kieran cleared his throat. ‘We swear, on these trees, to always be friends. To protect each other – and this place.’”
It isn’t as odd as it sounds, ‘hiding’ a small group of trees. Rural grazing properties in Australia often sprawl across areas in such a way that landowners may easily not be familiar with every nook and cranny. What they are familiar with is the carrying capacity (how many head of livestock can graze sustainably), water supply and the weather.
Trees are assets: for shelterbelts, shade, erosion control, fenceposts, firewood, and to lop for fodder during bad droughts. Some are kept or planted for decorative purposes, running the length of a road or fence line, but for farmed or irrigated paddocks, they are considered a nuisance, interfering with wide farm equipment and pivot irrigation.
Then of course, there are the widow-makers, or as one forestry book I read said of the Eucalyptus viminalis, “apt to drop large branches unexpectedly”. (I may have misremembered the tree, but I sure remember the warning, as we had them hanging over one of our well-worn tracks!) More recently, I remember reading of a farmer losing half a dozen stud cows who were killed while standing together under a tree when it was struck by lightning.
Long story short, that’s why the kids needed to keep the trees a secret.
They are growing up in the Lachlan Valley in southern NSW. The focus is on Jayne and her family. We watch her grow up, we see lives change suddenly, and we follow Jayne’s story in alternating chapters of school years and today, where she now works as a conservationist in Canberra, specialising in Aboriginal artefacts.
At the beginning of the book, an exhibit is stolen, and while the authorities are questioning everyone, senior staff are distracted by new federal government funding cuts (surprise, surprise), and Jayne is considering applying for a redundancy package. To be made redundant, and eligible for a silver, if not golden, handshake, she must prove they don’t need her.
“In a perverse reversal of years of application rounds, she now had to demonstrate her lack of value to the organisation.”
There is a side story of her domestic life with her girlfriend, Sarah, and of her obsession (well, that’s a bit strong, but it’s an abiding interest at least) with the Tour de France and cycling. Sarah’s work in the nation’s capital is top secret, which necessarily curtails many of their conversations.
I could have done with less of that and less about her Dad working hard and her Mum packing up lunch boxes with cakes and drinks and fruit and worrying about sunscreen. And maybe less about some of the local dramas. That all seemed to diminish what is a very fine story by an obviously talented author. (But I think that's just me, and I mention it only to say why I didn't rate it more highly.)
There are some wonderful photos here of arborglyphs in Australia, and I enjoyed learning about them in the book. http://nationalunitygovernment.org/co...
And I should add, in all fairness, that many farmers are life-long conservationists and good stewards of the land who maintain stock-free windbreaks and wildlife corridors. This is not a new phenomenon, but I've digressed long enough, so that can wait for another day.
“The cuts were deep and wide, right into the heartwood, like fingers making a river. Scrolls and diamonds filled the space around it. It all meant something. It meant a lot. We knew that straight away. We didn’t quite understand, the way we didn’t fully understand a lot of things. At the same time we almost did, although it was more than we could have explained. And we knew that we all felt the same, without having to speak. It was as if the trees said everything for us.”
A group of five teen-aged kids, schoolfriends, muck around by the river on their own on Jayne’s family’s farm, and one day, Kieran, the eldest, makes a discovery and takes the others to see it. There are five trees with interesting carvings on them. They decide they will keep this a secret from their parents.
“Kieran cleared his throat. ‘We swear, on these trees, to always be friends. To protect each other – and this place.’”
It isn’t as odd as it sounds, ‘hiding’ a small group of trees. Rural grazing properties in Australia often sprawl across areas in such a way that landowners may easily not be familiar with every nook and cranny. What they are familiar with is the carrying capacity (how many head of livestock can graze sustainably), water supply and the weather.
Trees are assets: for shelterbelts, shade, erosion control, fenceposts, firewood, and to lop for fodder during bad droughts. Some are kept or planted for decorative purposes, running the length of a road or fence line, but for farmed or irrigated paddocks, they are considered a nuisance, interfering with wide farm equipment and pivot irrigation.
Then of course, there are the widow-makers, or as one forestry book I read said of the Eucalyptus viminalis, “apt to drop large branches unexpectedly”. (I may have misremembered the tree, but I sure remember the warning, as we had them hanging over one of our well-worn tracks!) More recently, I remember reading of a farmer losing half a dozen stud cows who were killed while standing together under a tree when it was struck by lightning.
Long story short, that’s why the kids needed to keep the trees a secret.
They are growing up in the Lachlan Valley in southern NSW. The focus is on Jayne and her family. We watch her grow up, we see lives change suddenly, and we follow Jayne’s story in alternating chapters of school years and today, where she now works as a conservationist in Canberra, specialising in Aboriginal artefacts.
At the beginning of the book, an exhibit is stolen, and while the authorities are questioning everyone, senior staff are distracted by new federal government funding cuts (surprise, surprise), and Jayne is considering applying for a redundancy package. To be made redundant, and eligible for a silver, if not golden, handshake, she must prove they don’t need her.
“In a perverse reversal of years of application rounds, she now had to demonstrate her lack of value to the organisation.”
There is a side story of her domestic life with her girlfriend, Sarah, and of her obsession (well, that’s a bit strong, but it’s an abiding interest at least) with the Tour de France and cycling. Sarah’s work in the nation’s capital is top secret, which necessarily curtails many of their conversations.
I could have done with less of that and less about her Dad working hard and her Mum packing up lunch boxes with cakes and drinks and fruit and worrying about sunscreen. And maybe less about some of the local dramas. That all seemed to diminish what is a very fine story by an obviously talented author. (But I think that's just me, and I mention it only to say why I didn't rate it more highly.)
There are some wonderful photos here of arborglyphs in Australia, and I enjoyed learning about them in the book. http://nationalunitygovernment.org/co...
And I should add, in all fairness, that many farmers are life-long conservationists and good stewards of the land who maintain stock-free windbreaks and wildlife corridors. This is not a new phenomenon, but I've digressed long enough, so that can wait for another day.
May 8, 2017
Jay and her friends Kieran, Ian and Josh had a magical childhood. Growing up in a rural area they were free to spend their holidays exploring the bush, swimming in the river, eating wild blackberries and as they got older camping out. They had one magical place they loved to go, a special grove of carved trees around a clearing, which they vowed to keep secret just for themselves. But as they moved on to high school, times changed, life became more complicated and events occurred that were out of their control. Now, seventeen years later Jay is working as an art historian in Canberra and has decided to make amends and take back some control of the wrongs that were done.
Inga Simpson writes beautiful books about Australian nature and clearly remembers what it is to be an Australian child with an endless summer's day ahead and being allowed to fearlessly explore the bush with a bunch of good friends. Her evocative descriptions of swimming and jumping in the river and picking blackberries from lilos are like a scene from a painting. And you can almost smell the smoke from the sausages cooking on the campfire.
Jay's life in Canberra reflects many of the issues of our time. As a art historian she is passionate about preserving indigenous art and feels strongly about sacred artifacts being returned to their traditional owners. The conflict of the needs of farmers struggling on the land versus indigenous land rights is also raised as an issue for Jay's community. There are also side issues that add interest to the story, such as Jay's partner's job in a shady section of foreign affairs, the Tour de France and even the illegal fishing of Patagonian toothfish. Overall this is a gentle, thoughtful read with some well developed characters and will leave you with a nostalgia for a simpler time in our lives.
Inga Simpson writes beautiful books about Australian nature and clearly remembers what it is to be an Australian child with an endless summer's day ahead and being allowed to fearlessly explore the bush with a bunch of good friends. Her evocative descriptions of swimming and jumping in the river and picking blackberries from lilos are like a scene from a painting. And you can almost smell the smoke from the sausages cooking on the campfire.
Jay's life in Canberra reflects many of the issues of our time. As a art historian she is passionate about preserving indigenous art and feels strongly about sacred artifacts being returned to their traditional owners. The conflict of the needs of farmers struggling on the land versus indigenous land rights is also raised as an issue for Jay's community. There are also side issues that add interest to the story, such as Jay's partner's job in a shady section of foreign affairs, the Tour de France and even the illegal fishing of Patagonian toothfish. Overall this is a gentle, thoughtful read with some well developed characters and will leave you with a nostalgia for a simpler time in our lives.
November 8, 2019
A pleasant read and I enjoyed learning things I did not know before about arborglyphs and their meanings. I also liked reading about places I know and could feel the chill of the Canberra air. There was a good story in there too, told in two time lines in alternate chapters.
I sometimes felt I wanted to know more about each character and what was happening behind the scenes. Each event in the story was told in great detail but there were huge jumps between which left me wanting.
Still a very worthwhile read which gives you lots to think about.
I sometimes felt I wanted to know more about each character and what was happening behind the scenes. Each event in the story was told in great detail but there were huge jumps between which left me wanting.
Still a very worthwhile read which gives you lots to think about.
March 31, 2016
Loved it!
My View:
Another great read from Inga Simpson – her passion for nature and her wonderful ability to transport the reader to any location she chooses to write about is to be commended. And Inga Simpson artfully captures the innocence of childhood perfectly! Children accept everyone, it is not till later they learn to discriminate by gender, race, by socio economic borders, by ability…
Whilst at first glance this narrative seems to be quite simple, straight forward; a coming of age story with a thread that deals with remorse and justice, look a little closer, listen to the words, there is much more to be heard here.
The dual time zones (childhood 1980’s and current 2000’s) allows Simpson to explore such issues as the conservation/preservation of art and cultural objects/return of significant cultural artefacts to original owners, Indigenous rights, Land Rights, drugs in sport, the difficulties facing Australian farmers today, facing country towns, Australian foreign affairs and terrorism, illegal fishing …There is so much in this book! Yet it doesn’t feel cramped or that lessons are being given, all these elements form the miasma of issues that cloak our day to day modern Australian lives; they inform, or are ignored or give meaning to our individual lives.
This is an exceptional book that can be read on many levels; a coming of age story of the children in this book, the coming of age of Australia.
My View:
Another great read from Inga Simpson – her passion for nature and her wonderful ability to transport the reader to any location she chooses to write about is to be commended. And Inga Simpson artfully captures the innocence of childhood perfectly! Children accept everyone, it is not till later they learn to discriminate by gender, race, by socio economic borders, by ability…
Whilst at first glance this narrative seems to be quite simple, straight forward; a coming of age story with a thread that deals with remorse and justice, look a little closer, listen to the words, there is much more to be heard here.
The dual time zones (childhood 1980’s and current 2000’s) allows Simpson to explore such issues as the conservation/preservation of art and cultural objects/return of significant cultural artefacts to original owners, Indigenous rights, Land Rights, drugs in sport, the difficulties facing Australian farmers today, facing country towns, Australian foreign affairs and terrorism, illegal fishing …There is so much in this book! Yet it doesn’t feel cramped or that lessons are being given, all these elements form the miasma of issues that cloak our day to day modern Australian lives; they inform, or are ignored or give meaning to our individual lives.
This is an exceptional book that can be read on many levels; a coming of age story of the children in this book, the coming of age of Australia.
April 9, 2016
Inga Simpson is the best nature writer in Australian fiction - the chapters set in the characters childhood around the river and bush are gloriously well-drawn, as are the descriptions of the older Jay's bike-rides around Canberra. The characters - particularly as children - are strong as well. The plot is pushed to the front a little more here than in her previous work, and it's engaging and sharp, although perhaps a little implausible. This is one of those books that you're happy just spending time with - a beautifully described world, filled with decent, interesting characters.
July 14, 2022
4.5★s
“We were all grinning and everyone had their eyes open for once. Ian must have been moving – his hand was blurred. It was exactly how I imagined us, right down to Kieran’s arm around me and the peace sign he was making above Matty’s head. The big carving was behind us, and the other trees leaned into the picture, like giant people……when I looked at the image again, the colours had already started to fade, as if it was a moment we could never have back.”
Where The Trees Were is the third novel by award-winning Australian author, Inga Simpson. The audio version is narrated by the author. At midnight on a cold Canberra winter’s evening, a rare artwork is stolen from the loading dock of a well-known art gallery. In her position as senior conservationist specialising in Australian artworks, thirty-year-old Jayne Lawson’s opinion is sought, but no one suspects her of carrying out the theft. Why would a respected professional jeopardise her reputation, her career and her freedom in this manner?
Soon to start High School, Jay is enjoying a summer of freedom with her friends. The river at the end of Jay’s parents’ farm is where she and Kieran, Ian, Josh and Kieran’s younger brother, Matty (when they are forced to take him along) spend their days as soon as chores are done. When this tight-knit group make an amazing discovery in a grove of gums, they make a solemn vow.
The story is told over two timeframes in alternating chapters: young teen Jay narrates the events of the late eighties while the events of 2004 are told from thirty-year-old Jayne’s perspective. Simpson anchors her narratives firmly in their respective time periods with current events, music, movies, books and social attitudes. She includes a wealth of interesting (and sometimes shocking) information, incorporating topics as diverse as Tour de France, arborglyphs, the Archibald Prize, establishing the provenance of artworks, the Patagonian Toothfish and Native Title.
While the story gradually unfolds, Simpson treats the reader to some beautiful and eloquent descriptive prose: “It was so peaceful up there, with the clouds, that I didn’t ever want to come down. It was as if all the things that had happened were smaller, paused somehow, while I was in the air. As if the glider were a time machine that might set me down at a moment and place of my choosing. With the whole world to choose from” and “…I watched the treetops against the sky, the birds busy in their branches, and all of the flowers and insects that you only noticed when you were still, the sounds and smells that made a place and were the whole world. Eventually, I felt still again, too” are examples.
For any reader who spent part or all of their childhood in rural Australia, or even in the outer city suburbs, Jay’s narrative will strike a chord: lazy summers spent swimming, floating downriver on lilos, jumping from a rope swing, blackberrying, catching crayfish, playing games. And cooler months spent camping out, sailing model boats, and building a bonfire, all are so evocatively described that one can taste the blackberries straight off the bush, feel the dust underfoot, the sunburned skin, smell the fire and see the stars in the chilly night sky.
Simpson’s third novel has characters that are easy to care for and a plot that is wholly believable yet not entirely predictable, all contained within a gorgeous cover by Allison Colpoys. Fans of her earlier works will not be disappointed with this outstanding book. Another brilliant read
“We were all grinning and everyone had their eyes open for once. Ian must have been moving – his hand was blurred. It was exactly how I imagined us, right down to Kieran’s arm around me and the peace sign he was making above Matty’s head. The big carving was behind us, and the other trees leaned into the picture, like giant people……when I looked at the image again, the colours had already started to fade, as if it was a moment we could never have back.”
Where The Trees Were is the third novel by award-winning Australian author, Inga Simpson. The audio version is narrated by the author. At midnight on a cold Canberra winter’s evening, a rare artwork is stolen from the loading dock of a well-known art gallery. In her position as senior conservationist specialising in Australian artworks, thirty-year-old Jayne Lawson’s opinion is sought, but no one suspects her of carrying out the theft. Why would a respected professional jeopardise her reputation, her career and her freedom in this manner?
Soon to start High School, Jay is enjoying a summer of freedom with her friends. The river at the end of Jay’s parents’ farm is where she and Kieran, Ian, Josh and Kieran’s younger brother, Matty (when they are forced to take him along) spend their days as soon as chores are done. When this tight-knit group make an amazing discovery in a grove of gums, they make a solemn vow.
The story is told over two timeframes in alternating chapters: young teen Jay narrates the events of the late eighties while the events of 2004 are told from thirty-year-old Jayne’s perspective. Simpson anchors her narratives firmly in their respective time periods with current events, music, movies, books and social attitudes. She includes a wealth of interesting (and sometimes shocking) information, incorporating topics as diverse as Tour de France, arborglyphs, the Archibald Prize, establishing the provenance of artworks, the Patagonian Toothfish and Native Title.
While the story gradually unfolds, Simpson treats the reader to some beautiful and eloquent descriptive prose: “It was so peaceful up there, with the clouds, that I didn’t ever want to come down. It was as if all the things that had happened were smaller, paused somehow, while I was in the air. As if the glider were a time machine that might set me down at a moment and place of my choosing. With the whole world to choose from” and “…I watched the treetops against the sky, the birds busy in their branches, and all of the flowers and insects that you only noticed when you were still, the sounds and smells that made a place and were the whole world. Eventually, I felt still again, too” are examples.
For any reader who spent part or all of their childhood in rural Australia, or even in the outer city suburbs, Jay’s narrative will strike a chord: lazy summers spent swimming, floating downriver on lilos, jumping from a rope swing, blackberrying, catching crayfish, playing games. And cooler months spent camping out, sailing model boats, and building a bonfire, all are so evocatively described that one can taste the blackberries straight off the bush, feel the dust underfoot, the sunburned skin, smell the fire and see the stars in the chilly night sky.
Simpson’s third novel has characters that are easy to care for and a plot that is wholly believable yet not entirely predictable, all contained within a gorgeous cover by Allison Colpoys. Fans of her earlier works will not be disappointed with this outstanding book. Another brilliant read
May 16, 2016
“We were all grinning and everyone had their eyes open for once. Ian must have been moving – his hand was blurred. It was exactly how I imagined us, right down to Kieran’s arm around me and the peace sign he was making above Matty’s head. The big carving was behind us, and the other trees leaned into the picture, like giant people……when I looked at the image again, the colours had already started to fade, as if it was a moment we could never have back.”
Where The Trees Were is the third novel by award-winning Australian author, Inga Simpson. At midnight on a cold Canberra winter’s evening, a rare artwork is stolen from the loading dock of a well-known art gallery. In her position as senior conservationist specialising in Australian artworks, thirty-year-old Jayne Lawson’s opinion is sought, but no one suspects her of carrying out the theft. Why would a respected professional jeopardise her reputation, her career and her freedom in this manner?
Soon to start High School, Jay is enjoying a summer of freedom with her friends. The river at the end of Jay’s parents’ farm is where she and Kieran, Ian, Josh and Kieran’s younger brother, Matty (when they are forced to take him along) spend their days as soon as chores are done. When this tight-knit group make an amazing discovery in a grove of gums, they make a solemn vow.
The story is told over two timeframes in alternating chapters: young teen Jay narrates the events of the late eighties while the events of 2004 are told from thirty-year-old Jayne’s perspective. Simpson anchors her narratives firmly in their respective time periods with current events, music, movies, books and social attitudes. She includes a wealth of interesting (and sometimes shocking) information, incorporating topics as diverse as Tour de France, arborglyphs, the Archibald Prize, establishing the provenance of artworks, the Patagonian Toothfish and Native Title.
While the story gradually unfolds, Simpson treats the reader to some beautiful and eloquent descriptive prose: “It was so peaceful up there, with the clouds, that I didn’t ever want to come down. It was as if all the things that had happened were smaller, paused somehow, while I was in the air. As if the glider were a time machine that might set me down at a moment and place of my choosing. With the whole world to choose from” and “…I watched the treetops against the sky, the birds busy in their branches, and all of the flowers and insects that you only noticed when you were still, the sounds and smells that made a place and were the whole world. Eventually, I felt still again, too” are examples.
For any reader who spent part or all of their childhood in rural Australia, or even in the outer city suburbs, Jay’s narrative will strike a chord: lazy summers spent swimming, floating downriver on lilos, jumping from a rope swing, blackberrying, catching crayfish, playing games. And cooler months spent camping out, sailing model boats, and building a bonfire, all are so evocatively described that one can taste the blackberries straight off the bush, feel the dust underfoot, the sunburned skin, smell the fire and see the stars in the chilly night sky.
Simpson’s third novel has characters that are easy to care for and a plot that is wholly believable yet not entirely predictable, all contained within a gorgeous cover by Allison Colpoys. Fans of her earlier works will not be disappointed with this outstanding book. Another brilliant read
Where The Trees Were is the third novel by award-winning Australian author, Inga Simpson. At midnight on a cold Canberra winter’s evening, a rare artwork is stolen from the loading dock of a well-known art gallery. In her position as senior conservationist specialising in Australian artworks, thirty-year-old Jayne Lawson’s opinion is sought, but no one suspects her of carrying out the theft. Why would a respected professional jeopardise her reputation, her career and her freedom in this manner?
Soon to start High School, Jay is enjoying a summer of freedom with her friends. The river at the end of Jay’s parents’ farm is where she and Kieran, Ian, Josh and Kieran’s younger brother, Matty (when they are forced to take him along) spend their days as soon as chores are done. When this tight-knit group make an amazing discovery in a grove of gums, they make a solemn vow.
The story is told over two timeframes in alternating chapters: young teen Jay narrates the events of the late eighties while the events of 2004 are told from thirty-year-old Jayne’s perspective. Simpson anchors her narratives firmly in their respective time periods with current events, music, movies, books and social attitudes. She includes a wealth of interesting (and sometimes shocking) information, incorporating topics as diverse as Tour de France, arborglyphs, the Archibald Prize, establishing the provenance of artworks, the Patagonian Toothfish and Native Title.
While the story gradually unfolds, Simpson treats the reader to some beautiful and eloquent descriptive prose: “It was so peaceful up there, with the clouds, that I didn’t ever want to come down. It was as if all the things that had happened were smaller, paused somehow, while I was in the air. As if the glider were a time machine that might set me down at a moment and place of my choosing. With the whole world to choose from” and “…I watched the treetops against the sky, the birds busy in their branches, and all of the flowers and insects that you only noticed when you were still, the sounds and smells that made a place and were the whole world. Eventually, I felt still again, too” are examples.
For any reader who spent part or all of their childhood in rural Australia, or even in the outer city suburbs, Jay’s narrative will strike a chord: lazy summers spent swimming, floating downriver on lilos, jumping from a rope swing, blackberrying, catching crayfish, playing games. And cooler months spent camping out, sailing model boats, and building a bonfire, all are so evocatively described that one can taste the blackberries straight off the bush, feel the dust underfoot, the sunburned skin, smell the fire and see the stars in the chilly night sky.
Simpson’s third novel has characters that are easy to care for and a plot that is wholly believable yet not entirely predictable, all contained within a gorgeous cover by Allison Colpoys. Fans of her earlier works will not be disappointed with this outstanding book. Another brilliant read
June 4, 2017
Another winner from Inga Simpson, who is turning out to be one of my favourite contemporary Australian authors.
Delivered in alternating chapters, the actions of Jayne in the present are gradually explained by her 1980s backstory. I enjoyed both threads of the story equally; growing up in the country in the same era, and having spent enough time in Canberra as an adult during my APS years to have some familiarity with the location, I found a sense of nostalgia for both. The subject matter - land rights and Aboriginal artefacts - is interesting and important.
I read a library copy, but this is one I liked enough to add to my own collection.
Delivered in alternating chapters, the actions of Jayne in the present are gradually explained by her 1980s backstory. I enjoyed both threads of the story equally; growing up in the country in the same era, and having spent enough time in Canberra as an adult during my APS years to have some familiarity with the location, I found a sense of nostalgia for both. The subject matter - land rights and Aboriginal artefacts - is interesting and important.
I read a library copy, but this is one I liked enough to add to my own collection.
November 16, 2017
Jay is the focus of this story, as a child on a NSW property, running wild in the summer on the land swimming in the creeks with her three closest friends, and as a young adult, working in a gallery in Canberra.
The story progresses in small steps, alternating the childhood Jay and the adult Jayne, to build an image of the grove of carved trees which seemed to be the focus point of her childhood and a major part of the growth, not only of her identity, but of the identity of her small group of childhood friends.
As an adult, these trees form a focus for her career but in an unexpected way, which I will not spoiler for you here.
While I am not always the largest fan of short chapters (these are only a couple of pages long at times) this book has actually, and for the first time, demonstrated why they are so in vogue. In this story they are beautifully written and extraordinarily effective at building the plot and the characters within it.
The character of Jay emerges slowly throughout the book, rather than being presented wholesale at the beginning and being used as a vehicle for the story progression and this was also effective for this story. I loved the way that background descriptions of the gallery and museum scene created a world in which they story functioned, but I was especially charmed by the details of childhood: The hot arid country was so beautifully described that at times I thought I could smell it. The mechanics of property life, while not gone into with detail, created a solid foundation for the small joys and adventures of childhood, the river, camping and swimming, the escape from supervision and blackberry picking. All these were thoroughly enjoyable. The childhood tragedies and confusions, the betrayal of the things a child believes in, that go to forming the adult - also so well written.
Finally I loved the story use of the carved trees, I had never heard of arborglyphs and this story was a fascinating way to discover a whole side of Australian heritage that I never knew was there.
Would thoroughly recommend this book!
The story progresses in small steps, alternating the childhood Jay and the adult Jayne, to build an image of the grove of carved trees which seemed to be the focus point of her childhood and a major part of the growth, not only of her identity, but of the identity of her small group of childhood friends.
As an adult, these trees form a focus for her career but in an unexpected way, which I will not spoiler for you here.
While I am not always the largest fan of short chapters (these are only a couple of pages long at times) this book has actually, and for the first time, demonstrated why they are so in vogue. In this story they are beautifully written and extraordinarily effective at building the plot and the characters within it.
The character of Jay emerges slowly throughout the book, rather than being presented wholesale at the beginning and being used as a vehicle for the story progression and this was also effective for this story. I loved the way that background descriptions of the gallery and museum scene created a world in which they story functioned, but I was especially charmed by the details of childhood: The hot arid country was so beautifully described that at times I thought I could smell it. The mechanics of property life, while not gone into with detail, created a solid foundation for the small joys and adventures of childhood, the river, camping and swimming, the escape from supervision and blackberry picking. All these were thoroughly enjoyable. The childhood tragedies and confusions, the betrayal of the things a child believes in, that go to forming the adult - also so well written.
Finally I loved the story use of the carved trees, I had never heard of arborglyphs and this story was a fascinating way to discover a whole side of Australian heritage that I never knew was there.
Would thoroughly recommend this book!
September 20, 2020
The Libraries of Friendship that have been keeping me going during the pandemic take several forms. 'Where the Trees Were' came from a friend who ordered me a lucky dip of books from the Oxfam online shop, each a surprise. This is the first of them I've read and it proved truly serendipitous. Read at another point in my life, I would have moderately enjoyed this novel. Right now, it was exactly what I needed to read. The narrative follows a woman called Jayne, who grew up on a farm in rural Australia with a tight-knit group of friends. Flashbacks to her childhood and teenage years alternate with adulthood. The plot centres upon a group of ancient trees with Aboriginal carvings. While sad events do occur, the story felt to me overwhelmingly one of resilience, restoration, and growth. Crucially, it is both inspiring and escapist to follow a protagonist like Jayne. She camps and cycles in vividly-described Australian landscapes. She leaves her job after achieving what she wanted there, despite not having a firm plan for what to do next. She single-handedly builds a deck for her home and decorates it beautifully. Jayne also has a strong social conscience, intellectual curiosity, and a lovely girlfriend. Given that I am trapped in a job I hate, trapped indoors by fear of coronavirus, and terrible at DIY, it was glorious to escape into her head for a while. 'Where the Trees Were' is well-written, emotionally compelling, and full of memorable details. It addresses Australia's colonial legacy sensitively from a white woman's perspective while telling a coming-of-age story beautifully. For me, though, the great appeal was to briefly inhabit a happier, brighter, and wider world without any of 2020's oppressive fears. I reached the end too quickly.
October 10, 2024
Where the Trees Were is a well-written growing-up story following two parallel timelines in the life of our lead heroine. We all know that trauma shapes us more than anything, but so do our friendships and family. The author has chosen an arborglyph as the focal element, tying together both timelines and the underlying narrative of destroyed and dispossessed aboriginal artefacts. As much as I enjoyed the childhood narrative, I wished for more context and content related to the arborglyphs or Aboriginal Australian culture. If you make the narrator of the story a museum worker specializing in Australian history, I think it's valid to expect a bit more depth on the subject.
Overall, it's a quick read with short chapters continuously alternating between the two timelines. Sometimes I felt that the jumps between the events were too great and we didn't really get to learn so much about all the other characters (friends). However, I enjoyed the descriptions of Australia and its nature - a country I haven't visited and possibly will never visit.
Overall, it's a quick read with short chapters continuously alternating between the two timelines. Sometimes I felt that the jumps between the events were too great and we didn't really get to learn so much about all the other characters (friends). However, I enjoyed the descriptions of Australia and its nature - a country I haven't visited and possibly will never visit.
October 5, 2016
I very much enjoyed this book. The central character Jayne is well-drawn, with the alternating chapters telling of her current life and the formative years of her childhood and adolescence. This structure also works well for the development of the narrative.
The writing is beautiful, with wonderful descriptions of the river and scenery near Jayne's family's farm, and of Canberra, which is where I live. There is something special about the flash of recognition when reading about your home city.
I found some aspects of the ending slightly idealistic and implausible, but it didn't affect my overall enjoyment of the story.
The writing is beautiful, with wonderful descriptions of the river and scenery near Jayne's family's farm, and of Canberra, which is where I live. There is something special about the flash of recognition when reading about your home city.
I found some aspects of the ending slightly idealistic and implausible, but it didn't affect my overall enjoyment of the story.
May 22, 2016
I enjoyed the premise and setting of this book but it fell short in the end. I felt that the childhood chapters were engaging to begin with but meandered without direction after a couple of major incidents in Jayne's life. The contemporary chapters, following Jayne's life, also started with great promise and I was looking forward to a journey delving into Aboriginal artefacts, their removal and return however this didn't really evolve either. There seemed to be a greater focus on what Jayne was eating and her cycling than on her research and passion for Australian history. I got excited when she discovered some artefacts in a box and I wanted to know more about these and their backstory. Perhaps there were just too many unrelated ideas going on in this novel.
The end of the novel was also abrupt with a neatly tied up but slightly unbelievable finish.
The end of the novel was also abrupt with a neatly tied up but slightly unbelievable finish.
July 14, 2016
Have you ever heard of tree burials? I found the central tenet of arborglyphs utterly intriguing in Inga Simpson’s latest novel ‘Where the Trees Were’. Arborglyphs are carvings etched into living wood. The story centres around a grove of ancient trees situated on Jayne’s family farm. It tells the story of Jayne; from her childhood growing up in a rural, agricultural community to her work as an adult in art conservation in Canberra.
‘Where the Trees Were’ is contemporary fiction and will appeal to those who are open to looking at the history and use of land from a broad perspective.
The story flicks between Jayne as a child growing up in the Australian bush and the adult Jayne becomes; a public servant willing to risk it all to return arborglyphs to their rightful owners. Arborglyph derives from the Latin ‘arbor’ – tree and the Greek ‘glyph’ – carving. It is an ancient tradition and found in civilisations throughout history. Aboriginal people of Australia have used tree carvings as tomb stones for their dead and such sites are considered sacred.
A tragic childhood accident shapes the person Jayne becomes; someone living with guilt and trying their best to overcome the mistakes of childhood. Adult Jayne tries to put the past right and in doing so, risks her career and relationship with her lover, Sarah.
The story which I found slightly disjointed at the beginning, was a thought provoking and interesting read. Jayne is a well-developed character and readers will be heavily invested in her journey. I especially enjoyed her cycling and her love of the Tour de France.
Simpson ponders agricultural practices, land rights, the intricacies of rural communities, life as a public servant and art history and conservation. I enjoyed the idea of Jayne being an art thief struggling to make retribution for the past.
If you have a love of the land, this read will suit you. It will give fresh insights into life on the land; where we have been and where we are going. The descriptors of the Lachlan River are visually strong and I dare you not to feel the breeze sweep over your face as you stare into the ancient grove of trees on Jayne’s family farm.
Thank you again to Hachette for providing me with this beautifully written book. Highly recommended for lovers of contemporary Australian fiction.
‘Where the Trees Were’ is contemporary fiction and will appeal to those who are open to looking at the history and use of land from a broad perspective.
The story flicks between Jayne as a child growing up in the Australian bush and the adult Jayne becomes; a public servant willing to risk it all to return arborglyphs to their rightful owners. Arborglyph derives from the Latin ‘arbor’ – tree and the Greek ‘glyph’ – carving. It is an ancient tradition and found in civilisations throughout history. Aboriginal people of Australia have used tree carvings as tomb stones for their dead and such sites are considered sacred.
A tragic childhood accident shapes the person Jayne becomes; someone living with guilt and trying their best to overcome the mistakes of childhood. Adult Jayne tries to put the past right and in doing so, risks her career and relationship with her lover, Sarah.
The story which I found slightly disjointed at the beginning, was a thought provoking and interesting read. Jayne is a well-developed character and readers will be heavily invested in her journey. I especially enjoyed her cycling and her love of the Tour de France.
Simpson ponders agricultural practices, land rights, the intricacies of rural communities, life as a public servant and art history and conservation. I enjoyed the idea of Jayne being an art thief struggling to make retribution for the past.
If you have a love of the land, this read will suit you. It will give fresh insights into life on the land; where we have been and where we are going. The descriptors of the Lachlan River are visually strong and I dare you not to feel the breeze sweep over your face as you stare into the ancient grove of trees on Jayne’s family farm.
Thank you again to Hachette for providing me with this beautifully written book. Highly recommended for lovers of contemporary Australian fiction.
March 8, 2017
A beautiful meditation on the Australian landscape and the Aboriginal connection to it, Where the Trees Were is a must-read for anyone who has ever swung on a tyre over a slow-moving brown river or lain on the ground looking up at a scorching blue sky through the shifting leaves of a gum tree. Told in Inga Simpson’s deceptively simple style, the novel moves back and forth between the adulthood and childhood of a Canberra art curator called Jay. In the past lie tragedies and misunderstandings that shaped Jay’s psyche and still have ramifications on her life today. Jay is searching for a way to make amends for what happened, but her quest may cost her everything she most cares about.
May 24, 2017
I had no idea what arborglyphs were until I read this book, and in this book they refer to indigenous burial trees. Jay and her four childhood friends discover a grove of such trees and vow to protect it. But their attempt ends in disaster and seventeen years later Jay has an opportunity to redress this wrong.
This is a beautiful novel - simply, yet eloquently written, and among other things is a moving coming of age story. And so Australian you can almost smell the eucalypts in the pages!
This is a beautiful novel - simply, yet eloquently written, and among other things is a moving coming of age story. And so Australian you can almost smell the eucalypts in the pages!
March 14, 2016
Inga Simpson is a gloriously beautiful writer. While I didn't connect with the story as much as Mr Wigg, her ability to bring to a tale to life and put you right in the middle is formidable. I was back in my childhood, with trips to the river, and farm chores; the expectations, anticipations and eventualities. Another brilliant and poetic novel from a spectacular Australian writer.
September 29, 2016
I loved the sections from Jay's childhood - the incredible, strong friendship between the country kids. I wasnt as keen on the modern day story, which is why it got less stars.
March 31, 2016
Like Nest, the events of Where The Trees Were unfold in two timeframes. We meet Jay and her friends in 1987. The only child of cattle (and later sheep) farmers in Lachlan Valley (in rural NSW), Jay spends her days with her best friends – all boys – from neighbouring properties. They’re about to start high school and know they’re on the precipice of change.
In 2004, Jayne is working as an art historian / conservationist in Canberra. She’s in a relationship with Sarah and – again – at a turning point in her life.
Although we don’t spend all of the intervening 17yrs with Jay/Jayne, Simpson ensures we know the events of her childhood still play on her mind and she’s struggling with her need to atone for the actions of her younger self.
Simpson's writing is - again - beautiful and incredibly descriptive.
I also loved the additional texture, offered here via Jayne’s anecdotal updates on the Tour de France progress; casual reference to a book which I assume to be Clan of the Cave Bear; and mention of Archibald Prize controversy.
Of course a pivotal element of the plot involved the increased political and judicial consideration given to Indigenous land rights and native title from the mid-late 1980s.
Ultimately however, this is a coming of age story and when we meet young Jay in 1987, her carefree life is starting to change.
I very much enjoyed this novel, though Simpson’s work isn’t gripping. Her plots aren't unfurled at a fast pace that will have you desperately turning page after page. However… her characters are beguiling, themes achingly poignant and prose delightfully addictive.
Read the full review on my blog: http://www.debbish.com/books-literatu...
In 2004, Jayne is working as an art historian / conservationist in Canberra. She’s in a relationship with Sarah and – again – at a turning point in her life.
Although we don’t spend all of the intervening 17yrs with Jay/Jayne, Simpson ensures we know the events of her childhood still play on her mind and she’s struggling with her need to atone for the actions of her younger self.
Simpson's writing is - again - beautiful and incredibly descriptive.
I also loved the additional texture, offered here via Jayne’s anecdotal updates on the Tour de France progress; casual reference to a book which I assume to be Clan of the Cave Bear; and mention of Archibald Prize controversy.
Of course a pivotal element of the plot involved the increased political and judicial consideration given to Indigenous land rights and native title from the mid-late 1980s.
Ultimately however, this is a coming of age story and when we meet young Jay in 1987, her carefree life is starting to change.
I very much enjoyed this novel, though Simpson’s work isn’t gripping. Her plots aren't unfurled at a fast pace that will have you desperately turning page after page. However… her characters are beguiling, themes achingly poignant and prose delightfully addictive.
Read the full review on my blog: http://www.debbish.com/books-literatu...
May 20, 2017
A delightful book about a young woman growing up in rural NSW, her bonds with her mostly male friends, and about the Wiradjuri burial trees and their destruction by white invaders and their removal for display in galleries and museums. And how years later she is able to make amends. Her descriptions of the Australian natural landscape is evocative, as is her respect for the Wiradjuri people.
May 9, 2016
I loved, the history, contemporary, and informative, well-written, exciting, realistic.. etc of this novel, and never wanted it to end. Do hope it becomes the first of a series.. Such an important and unknown to me, subject of 'stolen' carved Aboriginal , grave markers.
May 25, 2017
Inga Simpson is not an Aboriginal writer, but Where The Trees Went is a novel that engages very much with Aboriginal culture and heritage. This is a risky path to follow; it is easy to draw accusations of cultural appropriation or insensitivity. But it is important that some white Australian writers are willing to take this risk. It is important that white Australian readers be exposed not just to authentic Aboriginal voices telling stories of their own culture, but also get to hear perspectives on how Australians of European or other non-indigenous heritage should relate to the Traditional Owners.
Where The Trees Went is a highly readable novel set in two interleaved times and locations. The first narrative features Jay, a tom-boyish girl hanging out with male friends by the river in the Lachlan Valley of small-town New South Wales. Jay’s family live on a huge station and the population is sparse; their part of the river is private property so it is quite conceivable that the collection of carved, dead trees is otherwise unknown. It becomes their personal playground; their gang hut, as it were. But one of the friends, Ian – whose family run the local service station – is Aboriginal and his mother tells them that the trees are a burial memorial and it is no place to be playing.
The other narrative has an adult Jayne, an art historian at the national museum in Canberra, plotting to steal an arborglyph – an Aboriginal carved tree. She is horrified at the commodification of Aboriginal culture, the collection of sacred artefacts that simply remain in storage. Jayne is horrified, too, to find herself in a relationship with Sarah, an intelligence officer with (presumably) ASIO, hanging out in trendy cafes and worrying about home furnishings. Perhaps triggered by a bushfire that ravaged the trees around Canberra, Jayne feels the stirring of old memories and the need to make a difference.
Both narratives are beautiful. The childhood, told in first person, is immediate and arresting. It is personal and bursting with emotions. It is a story of love and friendship; of childhood innocence in a harsh world where adults can crush dreams. The adult narrative reads at times like a psychological thriller: tense and terse. The third person narration creates a distance between Jayne and the reader. But like the best of the twin-track narratives, the reader is frustrated to move away from a compelling story every time it switches, only to become immediately engrossed in the story that had been on hold.
Overall, this is a story of love and friendship, tragedy and loss. There are themes of honour, personal debt and reparation. The novel sets Aboriginal culture firmly in the 20th and 21st Century – not some ancient thing but part of the world we all inhabit and which is relevant to all of us, regardless of our own heritage. It presents questions about how we can share a space; how migrants and their descendants can live with an appreciation of the awesome culture around us, and how we can try to live with the atrocities committed by our (not very distant) ancestors. The answers are very tentative, leaving the reader plenty of space to fill in their own answers.
Where The Trees Were is a really superb, measured piece of writing that will leave an impression.
Where The Trees Went is a highly readable novel set in two interleaved times and locations. The first narrative features Jay, a tom-boyish girl hanging out with male friends by the river in the Lachlan Valley of small-town New South Wales. Jay’s family live on a huge station and the population is sparse; their part of the river is private property so it is quite conceivable that the collection of carved, dead trees is otherwise unknown. It becomes their personal playground; their gang hut, as it were. But one of the friends, Ian – whose family run the local service station – is Aboriginal and his mother tells them that the trees are a burial memorial and it is no place to be playing.
The other narrative has an adult Jayne, an art historian at the national museum in Canberra, plotting to steal an arborglyph – an Aboriginal carved tree. She is horrified at the commodification of Aboriginal culture, the collection of sacred artefacts that simply remain in storage. Jayne is horrified, too, to find herself in a relationship with Sarah, an intelligence officer with (presumably) ASIO, hanging out in trendy cafes and worrying about home furnishings. Perhaps triggered by a bushfire that ravaged the trees around Canberra, Jayne feels the stirring of old memories and the need to make a difference.
Both narratives are beautiful. The childhood, told in first person, is immediate and arresting. It is personal and bursting with emotions. It is a story of love and friendship; of childhood innocence in a harsh world where adults can crush dreams. The adult narrative reads at times like a psychological thriller: tense and terse. The third person narration creates a distance between Jayne and the reader. But like the best of the twin-track narratives, the reader is frustrated to move away from a compelling story every time it switches, only to become immediately engrossed in the story that had been on hold.
Overall, this is a story of love and friendship, tragedy and loss. There are themes of honour, personal debt and reparation. The novel sets Aboriginal culture firmly in the 20th and 21st Century – not some ancient thing but part of the world we all inhabit and which is relevant to all of us, regardless of our own heritage. It presents questions about how we can share a space; how migrants and their descendants can live with an appreciation of the awesome culture around us, and how we can try to live with the atrocities committed by our (not very distant) ancestors. The answers are very tentative, leaving the reader plenty of space to fill in their own answers.
Where The Trees Were is a really superb, measured piece of writing that will leave an impression.
March 10, 2017
I realised that Ambelin Kwaymullina's comment “to find yourself in story is the right of every child” is also the right of every adult. I was ridiculously excited to read a story set in my own backyard and to see so many of my childhood experiences reflected in Where the Trees Were.
The alternating chapters that featured the adult story were set in Canberra. The childhood wrongs were gradually revealed through adult eyes. Subtle layers of meaning were peeled back. Indigenous land rights, burial grounds and environmental concerns were explored.
I learnt a lot about arborglyphs (burial trees), sadly a topic that I had never heard about before.
http://bronasbooks.blogspot.com.au/20...
The alternating chapters that featured the adult story were set in Canberra. The childhood wrongs were gradually revealed through adult eyes. Subtle layers of meaning were peeled back. Indigenous land rights, burial grounds and environmental concerns were explored.
I learnt a lot about arborglyphs (burial trees), sadly a topic that I had never heard about before.
http://bronasbooks.blogspot.com.au/20...
September 23, 2016
This author is like being with a friend. The story is well written and makes the reader experience growing up in country Australia. Another great novel from this author.
February 29, 2020
An enjoyable read told from childhood & adult perspectives. I probably enjoyed the childhood chapters more than the adult. The Australian bush was captured spectacularly & the back story of the arborglyphs was informative & interesting.
February 7, 2017
Where the Trees Were is a deep and touching story with a lot of real facts and culture behind it. I wasn't expecting to enjoy this book so much because it's not something I would have picked up on my own since I don't read a lot of adult fiction that isn't thriller or fantasy. So I'm glad The Big Book Club sent my book club copies of this book for myself and my friends to read because so far the people that have finished it already have loved it.
The book follows five young children, Jay, Kieran, Josh, Matty and Ian from their childhood in a small farming town to the adult life of Jay and her choices that connect to the past. Their story begins in Lachlan Valley, 1987 during their holidays where they spent much of their time at the river and trees near their homes exploring and having fun. Then they come across five incredible trees in a grove further away from the river. These trees have an effect on them with the brilliant carving and the fact that there's one for each of them, it feels magical to them.
After they find the trees the chapters flip through from the past of Lachlan Valley in 1987 to Canberra in 2004. We get to read their entire lives through from childhood to their teenage years to Jay's adulthood in the world of art galleries and museums that links back to their youth and the trees that they found. I love the compassion in the children, they faced some terrible things in their early years but they showed true loyalty and friendship to the others in the group and the community of their small town. We also read about the hardship of that town and the struggles of the farmers or small business owners and the help they receive from their neighbours.
The trees in this book are also based on the Wiradjuri burial trees, aboriginal culture and their people. In this book, Ian is actually a descendent of one of the members buried under these trees so it's the past and present merging into what the five of them happened to come across. It was such a pleasure to learn about this and feel what has been done to these trees through this book.
It's Australian writing and adult fiction at its best. This book made me want to cry and that doesn't happen often but the writing was just so touching and personal. I think it's also so easy to connect because it's places I've seen and experiences I had as a child. Jay walks the same steps in the Queensland Art Gallery that I did just a few days ago and describes many other places over Australia, she describes the love she has for licorice bullets that would rival mine, the afternoons swimming in rivers and jumping off rocks, and the setting off of bags of fireworks and catching the soldiers falling with their parachutes after just like I did when I was their age. It's incredible to connect to a story like this and impossible not to feel moved.
The book follows five young children, Jay, Kieran, Josh, Matty and Ian from their childhood in a small farming town to the adult life of Jay and her choices that connect to the past. Their story begins in Lachlan Valley, 1987 during their holidays where they spent much of their time at the river and trees near their homes exploring and having fun. Then they come across five incredible trees in a grove further away from the river. These trees have an effect on them with the brilliant carving and the fact that there's one for each of them, it feels magical to them.
After they find the trees the chapters flip through from the past of Lachlan Valley in 1987 to Canberra in 2004. We get to read their entire lives through from childhood to their teenage years to Jay's adulthood in the world of art galleries and museums that links back to their youth and the trees that they found. I love the compassion in the children, they faced some terrible things in their early years but they showed true loyalty and friendship to the others in the group and the community of their small town. We also read about the hardship of that town and the struggles of the farmers or small business owners and the help they receive from their neighbours.
The trees in this book are also based on the Wiradjuri burial trees, aboriginal culture and their people. In this book, Ian is actually a descendent of one of the members buried under these trees so it's the past and present merging into what the five of them happened to come across. It was such a pleasure to learn about this and feel what has been done to these trees through this book.
It's Australian writing and adult fiction at its best. This book made me want to cry and that doesn't happen often but the writing was just so touching and personal. I think it's also so easy to connect because it's places I've seen and experiences I had as a child. Jay walks the same steps in the Queensland Art Gallery that I did just a few days ago and describes many other places over Australia, she describes the love she has for licorice bullets that would rival mine, the afternoons swimming in rivers and jumping off rocks, and the setting off of bags of fireworks and catching the soldiers falling with their parachutes after just like I did when I was their age. It's incredible to connect to a story like this and impossible not to feel moved.
February 6, 2017
The intertwining lives of a group of children who are scarred by events in their childhood.
Beautifully realised.
Inga Simpson is a nature writer who writes deceptively simple prose that invites you into the fold.
Being of the same era as these children I related to a lot of the life and times of kids growing up in the 1970's without being over scheduled and tied to screens.
Beautifully realised.
Inga Simpson is a nature writer who writes deceptively simple prose that invites you into the fold.
Being of the same era as these children I related to a lot of the life and times of kids growing up in the 1970's without being over scheduled and tied to screens.
June 1, 2016
I loved this. As a public servant in Canberra who works with rivers, I could relate to almost all the settings and the vagaries of the public bureaucracy. I had never heard of arboroglyphs before but felt very protective of them by the end of the book, to the point of reading more about them. It also tied in to a lot of things about indigenous culture that have been coming up in my life.
September 3, 2016
this is terrific. Hopefully not just for folk like me who have grown up and/or work in the Canberra triangle (of Bermuda?). Will make Chrissie prezzies easy this year
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