Michael, an aspiring writer who has recently finished his PhD, takes a job as the secretary to his literary hero, Lucian Clarke, a reclusive novelist with a mysterious cosmopolitan past, who lives in a cottage in a village on a mountain outside Hobart which gives the book its title, Wood Green.
Peopled by an ensemble cast, the local publican the single mother who manages the pub’s kitchen, the unhappily married couple that runs the corner store, a newcomer from Johannesburg with a murky past, a snivelling B&B proprietor and a determined ex-girlfriend,
Wood Green artfully evokes the claustrophobia of small-town life. While Michael believes he is making a new life for himself, Lucian has other plans.
Rabin writes with wit and intelligence – and deftly executes an unsuspected plot twist – in his exploration of the perils of literary ambition and the elusive prospect of artistic legacy.
Born in Hobart, Tasmania, Sean Rabin has worked as a cook, script reader, copy-editor, freelance journalist and librarian. He has lived in Ireland, Italy, London and New York, and now resides in Sydney, Australia.
His short stories have been published locally (Best Australian Stories 2012 and Wet Ink) and in the United States (Permafrost, Eleven Eleven, Eyeshot, Toad Suck Review and The Worcester Review).
3.5 stars This novel was published some years ago now (2016) and I am honestly not sure how it came under my radar but I am glad it did. That said I am also lost for words.
Michael wrote his PhD on his literary hero, Lucian Clarke, a now reclusive author who lives on the side of Mt Wellington, in Wood Green, aka small town Tasmania. Michael, a budding author, has been hired to sort Lucian's papers, perhaps contribute to a biography, but all is not as it seems.
Outside of Michael and Lucian, this novel is full of over the top characters, the gay publican, the single mother chef, the soon to be divorced local shop owners, the men who hold up the bar - until they fall off their stools, the ex-girlfriend, a criminal South African and a B&B proprietor who is a host "on steroids" [and there is a wonderful description of him as he goes about his daily activities in the B&B]. Told from multiple perspectives, they represent small town living, a microcosm of society, and while often presented in the extreme they were still very relatable. But there is so much more. This is a novel about literary ambition, about literary legacies, with a twisted ending that was, in hindsight, foreshadowed especially towards the end, but still a surprise and I was left with so many questions.
Tasmania is also very much present in the glowing words of the characters, especially the taxi drivers, and in the authors descriptions - "Some trees were so tall that he almost lost his balance as he leaned back to appreciate their height. And so wide that whenever Lucian's red shirt disappeared behind one he would listen for the old man's footsteps amongst the rustle of marsupials scurrying in the thick undergrowth, and the squawk of birds warning of approaching marauders."
I devoured this book in a couple of sittings, it was very readable, it made me smile, but I am still wondering about what I read and feel a strong need to discuss and dissect it with others.
Music List: Rosinha De Valenca - Um Violao Em Primeiro Plano Nathan Davis Dorothy Ashby - Afro Harping The Khan Jamal Creative Arts Ensemble - Drumdance to the Motherland Ovalprocess Terry Reid - River Jose Saramago - Blindness Roland Kirk - The Inflated Tear Catherine Ribeiro and Alpes - Paix Salam Ragab and the Cairo Jazz Band - Egyptian Jazz Sheriff Lindo and The Hammer - Ten Dubs that Shook The World Parson Sound Terry Riley - Persian Surgery Dervishes E Pluribus Unum Vibra Cathedral Orchestra - Wisdom Thunderbolt Kawabata Makoto - Hosanna Mantra DJ Sprinkles - Midtown 120 Blues
I can't figure out how I feel about this - the swerve at the end was unpredictable and a bit jarring, but certainly took things to much more memorable places than the ensemble cast and musings on writing had me expecting. The shoe-horning in of hip musical references (too hip for the SMH, whose reviewer called them 'playfully invented') got a bit tiresome after a while, and a few of the side characters seemed almost entirely extraneous (the B & B owner, Carl, the cabbie, even Michael's ex-girlfriend). The descriptions of Hobart are affectionate and evocative. The book's supremely readable and quite compelling - I read it in about 3 sittings - but I'm not sure if it all really adds up to anything.
An original voice that narrates a delicious story, populated with an interesting mix of characters, and set in an exotic location, even though a bit dreary, this book is a captivating page turner.
Wood Green echoes the melancholia and the propensity of living in the past, or, sometimes, way up ahead in the future, of its characters, as they search for individuality and ambition to find a balance between their pleasures and existence. The inner world of this brilliant debut novel is about the emptiness that the characters experience as they try to break free from their existential dilemmas related to love, desire, and accomplishment.
An aspiring writer, Michael, takes a leave of absence to travel to Hobart in Tasmania to work as an assistant to Lucian Clarke, a writer in his sixties who was Michael’s subject for his Ph.D. thesis. Michael seems to have two ambitions: one, learn more about the reclusive writer whom he clearly admires, and two, use the time to finish his own debut novel and perhaps get his favourite writer, Lucian, to read and endorse it.
Wood Green is a small village, just a convenience store owned by Tim and Maureen, a pub by Paul, and a few other houses including the one where Lucian lives. The way their worlds are interwoven by the author is really clever and makes for a compelling read. The images that these parts create are vivid thereby making the story alive and intimate.
On the whole, Wood Green is dark and disturbing, a powerful examination of how circumstances and ambitions in contemporary times when tweaked by material and intellectual insatiability shape people’s lives.
I really enjoyed this. Not at all what I'd expected when I saw it was a novel about a writer struggling with writing (what I expected: ugh). Funny, clever, full of interesting music, and written in a kinda-modernist, rapidly-shifting-point-of-view style which doesn't show up much in Australian literature these days. Also, the ending is ace. Unpredictable and unashamed: I liked it.
Really loved this. It's great to read an Aussie novel that isn't about their past or their present inner-city troubles. Instead this is a close-up view of a small town in Tasmania, complete with much weirdness and 'that' magical twist - don't read too much about it in advance, just go with the flow. A surprising joy.
This was... fine? I found the writing style interesting- although somewhat annoying (super short chapters, no quotations marks or paragraph breaks for people who are speaking), and liked reading a book that takes place in Hobart. But it was just... fine.
Enjoyed the characters and setting so much I forgave the twist at the end. For anyone that's gotten up in the morning to a freezing cold house and had to scrabble around for fire wood or driven through a tourist hamlet and stopped for a meal, the settings are perfectly detailed while the characters are recognisable, very human and witty in their small trials. It's a treat.
Novels and films that explore the relationship between a young, would-be writer, and a more experienced writer-mentor are not necessarily new but Sean Rabin’s Wood Green has done something a little different with this ‘genre’.
Wood Green has been sitting in my pile for a couple of months, but I didn’t pay it much attention until it was shortlisted for the 2016 Readings Prize last week. It’s such an unassuming book with its moody cover and bland title, and the blurb doesn’t give away much either.
It sounds good, it promises an interesting tale, but it doesn’t demand to be read today, if you know what I mean… But do not be deceived, Wood Green is so much more than it appears to be!
Actually, it was like balm for the soul after reading that sleazy novel I read a book or so ago. Sean Rabin hails from Sydney but he was born in Tasmania and he writes with genuine affection about his fictional village on the slopes of Mt Wellington. (LOL you can tell he’s from Sydney now, his characters notice the cold so much!) That’s not to say that his characters are all virtuous, indeed no. There’s a lot of weed being smoked, and there are interesting mushrooms growing on the mountain. And despite the small population, people seem to be able to enjoy mix-and-match relationships anyway.
In this microcosm of society Rabin has created a fascinating collection of characters who draw the reader into their affairs much like the way it happens in very small towns.
Read this in practically one sitting! It really creates a sense of place and an understanding of why people would want to stay in a small town in Tasmania. The characters are deft and really come to life..no spoilers here but about two thirds of the way through the book it practically changes genre in a really compelling way! Great first novel!!
I did give 3 stars because there was two good storylines but I didn’t like book.
I don’t mind reading a tale about the day to day lives of people in a small town, and an aspiring writer working for a grumpy old man, but what I don’t like is that only in the last 30 or so pages the supernatural element is revealed, and there was stuff all hints to suggest that there was a supernatural element to the story to begin with. I don’t like the excuse Lucian used to hide the truth, and even thought the supernatural element is good storyline, it was not a suitable twist.
And why, oh why does the author have a problem with quotation marks? Not having quotation marks makes it hard to understand, you don’t know if the character is having internal thoughts or is actually speaking until the end of the paragraph.
I found this book at a bus stop in Fern Tree (on the mountain, Hobart) after a hike. I had a two hour wait for the bus back down the mountain due to it being a public holiday and it was so special being on the mountain reading a book set on the mountain.
I liked the characters, I enjoyed mentions of hobart places and things that i recognised and I dug both the twist at the end and the characters whos stories left untied. Cool Book, glad i picked it up!
An intriguing read. I can't decide whether I enjoyed it exactly or if I mostly just felt compelled by it (and is there any difference between these two things anyway?) In any case it was something different to what I'd usually pick up and came well recommended both by the Twitter-sphere and by the bookseller who sold it to me. I'll be interested to see what Rabin does next.
When I think of Giramondo, I think of Ivor Indyk. Accordingly the grammar pedant in me wasn't expecting to find 'nauseous' passing muster in its incorrect usage, despite that same incorrect usage now supplanting the true/original meaning of 'causing nausea' in some dictionaries. You are not nauseous, and if you truly are, we shall abstain.
A strange and compelling book set in the claustrophobic world of Tasmania's Wood Green. The mind-bending plot twist at the end leaves you with thoughts of this book lingering long after the final page.
Good writing (great flow), great characters and nice to read a book set in my home town. Not the most exciting plot, and a strange ending, but different and enjoyable.
Well written story about a quirky/normal Tasmanian place just outside Hobart and the characters in it. Interesting turn of events at the end, more literal than expected.
I'll confess I was reading this book for all the wrong reasons. I wanted to read Rabin's latest book, The Good Captain, which I saw in a book shop and was transfixed by the cover and, after I picked it up, the topic material. But I thought I should probably start with his first. Initially I thought I'd just read the synopsis online and a few chapters in the shop and that should do me to get a feel for it. Of course when I looked up the reviews on here and everywhere else all I could read about was THE TWIST. Naturally reading all these reviews about this startling plot development drove me round the twist and so there was no other course of action than to actually read the book.
I've contemplated whether to reveal the twist on here because there really isn't anywhere that you can find what the twist is. The first half of the book you have no idea of what's coming and then things start to get a bit strange and you start wondering if the book has been edited properly. Thankfully, you'll be reading it knowing that there is a weird twist and so you'll just go with it. It's also not one of those "of course the butler did it" endings and nor is it Cthulhu emerging from the deep. It does however carry quite a bit of mystery, to the point where I'm almost not sure it makes complete sense. But Rabin's writing is clear and poised and the book reads quickly due to a lack of pretense.
The meta-task of writing about writing is not easy and writing about two different writers, and their writing while not showing off with your own writing is even harder. Rabin nails it. In fact the passages about writing may be some of the best in the book. How does the man nail those on his first book? It can only be skill and cajones. Of course the reader has to ask how much of Rabin is in Michael and how much of him is in Lucian? A question we'll never know the answer to but we do know that Rabin has the skill to make a believable late-career successful writer as well as a budding novelist.
The writing does seem noticeably Australian, which probably has a lot to do with the auxiliary characters and their speech patterns. There's also a noticeable thread of Australian irreverence woven all the way through the story. Lucian's disdain of the publishing industry, Michael's blind worship of Lucian in contrast to the rest of the village basically considering him an old loon. There's also plenty of humour in the book, the taxi driver who makes a few appearances is very funny and anyone who's taken a similar cab ride will recognise the type straight away. The invented CD's that Lucian and Michael listen to are also amusing. The only extraneous feature of the book are some of the other auxiliary characters. The proprietor of the B&B and Carl the South African conman both seem completely detached from the main plot and completely unnecessary. They're also the two weakest parts of the story. The characters closer to the central narrative are all well drawn and believable.
As always, Tasmania makes a stunning backdrop for the novel. Rabin leans on Tasmania quite heavily but also does it justice. He manages to pull off the small village on the outskirts of a big town feel. Those who live in Tassie or have visited Hobart, Mount Wellington, or Battery Point will recognise their depictions. The novel definitely feels like it's been written by a local and almost serves as a siren song for other writers to come and see if the mystic place can pull their first novel out of them.
My wont each morning, around seven, immediately after I arise from my slumbers, is to stand in our little back room, here by the river, to look out at my twin mountains. The window that faces upriver affords me a view of twin-humped Dromedary, the down river aspect leads my eyes to the organ-piped ramparts of Mount Wellington. These days many Tasmanians, myself included, prefer the name our first peoples bestowed on it – kunanyi. Its original name, early on in colonial times, was Table Mountain, before being rebadged after Waterloo. Some mornings neither mountain can be espied due to them being cloaked in mist, cloud, or the jerry coming down from the upper valley. Often one, or both, are iced by snow. If this is the case with Dromedary, we know during winter that yet another layer of clothing needs to be added. Both river and twin mountains, despite their ever changing moods, soothe me from the get-go; they set me up for the day ahead.
So it is perhaps circumstance that I was destined to read twin books, on booksellers' shelves around the same time, where a local mountain shaped the fictionally occurring events.
One of the authors, Sean Rabin, at an early stage in his release, 'Wood Green', listed those on our island achieving success following the vocation he would seem to have a future in, given the quality of his first attempt. The reader was informed, via the voice of a taxi driver, that in our country's literature, Tassie's contribution is 'bigger than you think.' He was not only a verbose but, as well, an extremely well read cab driver, at least as far as his state's product in print was concerned. 'Well of course there are your notables like Richard Flanagan and Christopher Koch and Amanda Lohrey, but I bet you've never heard of Joan Wise or Nan Chauncy, have you?' He then went on to list names commencing with Marcus Clarke and ending with Heather Rose, Gina Mercer, Katherine Lomer and Adrienne Eberhard. The fellow finished off by stating that he too was working on a novel – about the island's early whaling industry.
I wondered, on reading those passages, if Sean himself, or perhaps Sarah Kanake, the writer of the other tome, 'Sing Fox to Me', would one day be spoken of in the same terms as the aforementioned? I do suspect Ms Kanake is the more likely, but time will tell.
And that is not to say that Rabin's 'Wood Green' is a failure by any measure. It is a fine effort really; eminently consumable, but aspects did annoy me. It is lovely to read of my island's multitudinous virtues, but at times the novel invoked a travel brochure designed to attract people to spend their next hols with us. And the constant reference to cutting edge music made me wonder as to Rabin's motivation – in doing so does he think his readers will rush to YouTube to have a gander at what he was on about? For a while I thought that these too may be fictionalised as I hadn't heard of any of them. Then I came across one I knew – Judee Sill. Usually each was accompanied by a precis as to why the musician(s) resonated (so hate that word) with one of the writers in residence in the village of Wood Green. There were similar literary references as well, again obscure - to my knowledge. Just get on with the story Sean. It is a cracker you have come up with. And otherwise, it did have me engrossed.
As with 'Sing Fox to Me', the fulcrum of this tale is a cranky old man – in 'Wood Green's' case, the renowned, but reclusive, novelist Lucien Clarke. He lived on kunanyi's shoulder, in a hamlet perhaps modeled on Ferntree or Longley. The old guy has employed Michael, a man in search of a new start and for whom the author was the subject matter for his uni thesis, to get his affairs in order. Of course, Michael Pollard also aspires to write something or other himself. The location for most of the action has a mix of characters who would do a tele soap proud. There's a gay pub owner and a gay South African, with something to hide, about to take over the local store. Now I wonder what could happen there? The former owners, an estranged couple, have had enough. One just happens to be Lucien's ex-lover, still hankering for his ministrations. There is also a b and b owner described by the cover blurb as 'snivelling'. But the mix, like a compulsive soap, does get one in. The chapters are short and sharp, all 104 of them – and with the last score or so the novel does an about face and it may not be to everybody's taste. But this scribe thinks it works just fine. As for the ending, well even a soap wouldn't countenance going down that path.
There does need, I feel, to be more discipline with Mr Rabin's self-indulgences, but he has come up with a great yarn about my city and its mountain. I'll be lining up for his next release.
But, to my mind, of higher literary excellence was Sarah Kanake's 'Sing Fox to Me'. The Sunshine Coast lecturer and country music singer possesses some serious writerly chops.
The fellow in his winter years in this story's case was Clancy Fox. He lived alone, but for his ghosts, on a mountain with a bleak and pluvial climate. The mountain's elder is still, many years later, grieving for his lost daughter, River. 'People say there's no pain like the pain of losing a child and Clancy knew the truth of that more than most. He knew the missing, the aching. He knew the unending, circling misery of letting a child slip through his fingers, but he also knew the sorrow of forgetting and being forgotten.' Now it is Clancy's habit to go feral, to strip naked, wearing only a tiger skin, when he heads bush in search of his child. She may still be out there - out there somewhere with the tigers. River claimed to have seen them everywhere whilst she was alive – the old man sees hints of them in the shadows.
But then his other offspring turns up – the estranged David. He is in dire need of 'finding himself' after a marriage breakup, but first needs to dispose of his own two sons. He dumps the twins, Samson and Jonah, with Clancy and promptly shoots through. The old fella, with the aid of other local rustics, does the bast he can, but he's no match, particularly for the disturbed Jonah. Samson, conversely, is a lovely creation from Kanake. He has Down syndrome, but this does not prevent him from becoming the most engaging of the denizens of 'Sing Fox to Me'. This is particularly the case after meeting another damaged young soul in the surrounding bush and this soon forms their playground. But all is not right with Jonah. He does a runner, the community groups around old Clancy in his time of need, but soon there is yet another mystery to solve.
Ms Kanake, through very fine wordsmithery, evokes and enhances many of our island writers' penchant for the gothic nature of our past - something that endures and afflicts to the present day. There's some magic realism afoot too in this book, as there is in Rabin's. Neither author bangs us on the head with it, but it's there, lurking in the background.
So what we have are twin offerings, both thoroughly worthy of a reader's time. It will be interesting to see if Kanake and Rabin kick on after these debuts. Meanwhile, this old bloke, not on a mountain's saddle, but constantly peering each day to the high country surrounding the river he loves. He measures the mood of kunanyi and Dromedary - these being the twin mountains of his his own contented existence.
Wood Green by Sean Rabin is a character driven novel that looks at life in a small community on the side of Mount Wellington in Hobart.
Told in quick snippets, each chapter on average 3 pages, this book follows academic and aspiring novelist Michael after he accepts a job to detail the life of his literary hero, renound reclusive author Lucian Clarke. What Michael isn't prepared for is the journey he has embarked on, the people he will encounter, and the perils he will face to achieve his goals.
An absolute strength of this book is the brilliantly detailed ensemble cast of characters that brings this small community to life. Also the beautiful Tasmanian countryside is also a highlight. I was in love with the first 85% of this book, but the ending seemed so out of left field it was a bit jarring to the rest of the story that focussed on exploring the lives of those in the village. Beautifully composed and very easy to lose yourself in, despite the unexpected ending, I'm giving this a ⭐️⭐️⭐️🌠 (3.5/5).
This was something different to my usual read. I was immediately compelled by the characters in the small town of Wood Green. Reading about their mundane lives was strangely captivating and relaxing. I felt the author depicted small town living well. His descriptions of a lazy mountainside Tasmanian town made me feel transported to that cold, friendly region. The story took an interesting turn. I like that the author took a risk with this otherwise typical genre. It worked. I don’t know how... but it worked! This book made me laugh out loud, gasp, and smile.
I actually didn’t want to put this book down. I read it almost in one sitting. If you want a compelling yet almost meditative read (with an interesting ending), look no further than Wood Green.
It is always nice to read a novel written about where you live. It wasn’t hard to know the suburbs of Hobart described (and one engineering structure that my forebears designed and built), and some of the characters were rather Tasmanian. It is a light read, with the characters well-developed, and quirky in places. The last few chapters however did a ‘right-angle’ turn that left me wondering. I would have preferred a more nuanced ending. It was entertaining, diverting and a thoughtful gift from a talented ‘neice’. Thanks Em.
Absolutely loved the writing and rhythm of the book. Chapter 73 stands out as the best use of words to bring music alive to the reader. I would have given it 5stars but I was not happy with the plot twist some 50 odd pages from the end. I didn't think it needed to be so random and I felt a bit cheated. That said, I would definitely read this author again for his brilliant word craft.
Some of the book was interesting. The musical references were intriguing and gave me a few new artists to enjoy. It had too many perspectives and definitely needed an edit. The ending was completely off topic, generally a cardinal sin when it comes to creative writing.
Loved the entry into Tasmania and this had me hooked. The book has a few complex characters that are interesting. The book hints at a dramatic ending, that I didn't see coming. A Booktopia bookclub book, available for cheaper price
Unsure about this one. I felt Rabin captured Tasmania well but none of the characters were particularly likeable and the lack of quotation marks when characters were speaking irritated me. The unexpected twist at the end left me with more questions than answers.