A few weeks before the 2013 election, Lee married the love of his life. Less than three years later, it had all gone wrong. How could something that seemed so right in 2013 fall so quickly into shambles? In 2016, as Australia moves into a new and uncertain election, Lee heads out on the campaign trail to see if he, and the government, can discover what went wrong.
Double Dissolution is a contemporary election campaign narrative that probes personal and political failures and upheavals, and explores possible futures. Lee provides a fresh, informed and suitably baffled viewpoint on the turns of Turnbull, the shifts of Shorten, the darkness of Dutton; he connects with candidates and voters on the road, discovering complacency, hope, and contradictory party narratives. As the people look for hope and the candidates look for power, Lee searches for answers.
This is a humorous and intelligent work – a snapshot of Australian politics and society through a unique lens, highly relatable to a generation brought up with endless, though often illusory, choices, and increasingly alienating political messages.
I won a copy of this book through a giveaway competition. I must admit i was not expecting to like it as i am not a fan of politics. I thought i would find it dry. But i was pleasantly surprised. This book was engaging and, even at times, humorous. It is well plotted, and seamlessly blends politics with the personal story. I enjoyed the writing style and the story flowed effortlessly.
“Double Dissolution” is a non-fiction book in which journalist Lee Zachariah follows Australian politicians around the country during the 2016 election campaign, while avoiding the collapse of his marriage.
You don’t have to be a political junkie to read and enjoy this. If you were in Australia in 2016, you’ll probably remember some of the incidents Zachariah canvasses. However, he’s most interested in the conflicts between what politicians say in one sentence, and contradict in another. You don’t need to have an intimate knowledge of or interest in a particular election or party for this to be worth thinking about.
And besides, Zachariah takes a wry approach to a lot of this; it’s not heavy, although it should provoke a bit of thought from most readers.
Similarly, he’s more interested in the feelings resulting from his marriage collapse. He doesn’t canvass the details of what happened or why, and indeed acknowledges how easy it would be to use the same facts to paint either he or his wife as the villain. His disbelief that it has come to this, and his difficulty seeing a way forward, will probably resonate with many.
There are some aspects of this book which seem a little strange. For example, at no point does Zachariah name his wife – something that could be put down to protecting her privacy, except that he has no hesitation naming friends and ex-girlfriends.
I would probably also have liked to see included some of the journalistic articles he wrote at the time – they would have been an interesting addition.
Overall, this is a light and easy to read memoir that doesn’t sink into any particularly deep waters, but which should nevertheless make you think a bit more next time you’re listening to a politician rabbit on. I enjoyed this. It managed the balance between easy to read and thought provoking remarkably well.
In what seems like a bizarre crossing of subject matter, Lee manages to bring together the end of his marriage with the (beginning of the) end of the Australian Liberal Party/Coalition.
It should be tragic and depressing, and it is in parts, but also funny and self-deprecating. Lee places in the spotlight not only his only personal journey, but the journey of Australian politics and opinions. As someone who has only a slightly above average interest in politics, I expected to find the book dry in parts and to that I would find myself continually reaching out to Wikipedia to work out what the hell he was talking about, but this was in no way the case. It's perfectly pitched to non-experts but sufficiently detailed and diverse to keep the well educated engaged.
You wouldn't think that a book about the least influential election of 2016 would be worth keeping on the shelf for more than 6 months, but I'm already looking forward to a re-read.
Journalist/humourist Zachariah takes us on a physical, emotional & spiritual journey as he chronicles the 2016 election campaign along with the double dissolution of his own marriage. It's an unusual approach &, for me, it worked. Amusing - likening reluctant Republicans' efforts to get behind Trump as "someone trying very, very hard to give themselves Stockholm syndrome" - & illuminating - why do major parties hold their campaign launches weeks (&, in 2016, months) after the campaign actually begins? Because once they have formally begun their campaigns they are pulled off the public purse & have to start paying for everything themselves. Along the way we (& sometimes Lee) get to meet the usual suspects - Turnbull, Shorten, Abbott, Cormann, Dutton, James Mathison - & a splendid time is had by all. Recommended.
A thoroughly engaging read, with a great blend of personal and political. I laughed out loud on a regular basis, particularly when reading the notes/asides.
Lee Zachariah takes 'the personal is political' to its logical endpoint, juxtaposing the entire 2016 election campaign against his struggle to come to terms with the collapse of his marriage. The result is one of the more memorable books on that election: funny, but melancholic at the same time (Zachariah is, after all, the one who created those "Have you seen this man?" posters when Peter Dutton went MIA during the campaign). But while the book is reasonably fun, it's not much for political insight. If you're looking for the definitive history of Lee Zachariah from May to July 2016, this is your book. If you're looking for the definitive history of the 2016 election, this isn't it.
This was an awkward book to read because I know the author and the end of his marriage forms the structure for this political travelogue. It's a framework that both shapes and limits what he observes here, although Zachariah's ex-wife has almost no presence in this book, appearing only as wisps of memory and lost everyday habits. She's basically just the reason why he's become a shell of a man who embarks on a manic journey around Australia in the hope of filling that emptiness somehow.
For me the book succeeds best on the level of travel: you can sense Zachariah relaxing on the road, that liminal nowhere-space in which you don't have to think about your regular life. I also appreciated the grubby artefacts of being away from home: looking up directions on your phone; plugging into random power points when you run out of battery; wearing stale shabby clothes when you're trying to be professional. There are some bittersweet moments when Zachariah tries to reconnect with key places and people from his past, only to find them never quite meeting up with his expectations.
The political commentary was lively – I enjoyed the use of footnotes as well – and there were some enjoyably observed moments on the campaign trail from an outsider's perspective, but the book felt light on substance. Perhaps that's because I was reading this in December, some months after the 2016 federal election and after the disastrous election of Donald Trump in the US. How pathetic and provincial the Australian political scene is. The stakes are so low and the media narratives are so impoverished. Zachariah is an outsider, but being an insider seems like a shit job that's just as bad.
As Zachariah follows the campaign, he's searching for some meaning within it that just never arrives – and it's telling that the ordinary people and the minor-party politicians he encounters are much more interesting than the major party machine men and women. The book left me feeling kind of flat but maybe the aim was to make me feel a little bit of Zachariah's own malaise?