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Ache
A year ago, a devastating bushfire ripped Annie's world apart - killing her grandmother, traumatising her young daughter and leaving her mother's home in the mountains half destroyed. Annie fled back to the city, but the mountain continues to haunt her. Now, drawn by a call for help from her uncle, she's going back to the place she loves most in the world, to try to heal herself, her marriage, her daughter and her mother.
A heart-wrenching, tender and lovely novel about loss, grief and regeneration, Ache is not only a story of how we can be broken, but how we can put ourselves back together.
A heart-wrenching, tender and lovely novel about loss, grief and regeneration, Ache is not only a story of how we can be broken, but how we can put ourselves back together.
256 pages, Paperback
First published May 22, 2017
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438 people want to read
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September 12, 2022
Earlier this year I read Eliza Henry-Jones’ debut novel ”In the Quiet” and was transported to the unique landscape in a small rural area outside of Victoria, Australia, the colloquial expressions, and the mesmerizing quality of Henry-Jones writing, so when I saw that her new novel was out, I knew I wanted to read it as soon as possible.
Set in a rural area of Australia on a mountain, where the lyrebirds make their home in the forests surrounding the home where Annie grew up, where just the year before, a bushfire devastated the whole community. Neither Annie nor her daughter, Pip, have fully recovered from the trauma, although they narrowly escaped the fires and returned to the city, where they’ve been ever since. That is until Annie’s uncle phones telling her she needs to return.
And so she leaves the city with Pip, leaving behind her husband Tom, Pip’s father, and returning home. Last year’s memories still haunt her, and she returns to a town changed from the one she remembers from her early years, so much destruction and so much anger. Annie’s filled with so much confusion and sadness, as though she’s packed it all inside her as so she can leave it there, behind her. There’s also the other side of her knowing that this is the place her heart yearns to be. Hoping to find the beauty and the life in what remains. Hoping to share that with Pip.
”The mountains had always been quiet, but it was like the unimaginable noise of the fires had sucked all sound from the mountain along with everything green. There was no sound of clattering leaves in the wind now. There were no birds. No sigh of grass.”
As the details of the fire slowly come to light, the feelings of those living there, those who lived through the fire also are shared, the bitterness and the fear, anger and hate are also shown, acts of vengeance and hate showing the rage of those sure they know who to blame.
Nature, itself, is a character, ever present, the temperamental winds, alive and waiting for Annie to sleep, whispering to her while she dreams. When she was a child, the trees spoke to her, and still, she feels the vibrations of the trees as breathing, alive.
”She has the carving of Luna in her hands. She runs her fingertips over it, marveling at how alive it feels. How it is alive in the way a swimmer is, holding her breath under water.”
She misses the lyrebirds, the mimicking, the sounds they hear and imitate. She loves all animals, her horses, the chickens, can’t imagine her life without them. Can’t imagine this town continuing without healing, without hope.
”The house creeks. The branches outside move. Everything is unsettled. She hears the sighing. It is sadness, uncertainty. It matches hers.”
What emerges in the end is a story of a tragic event, and all that follows, the way that tragedy has morphed into something larger, damaging the town not only physically but destroying their trust in each other. They stand around pointing fingers, watching their broken town as if to say “See? See what’s happened?” Unwilling to let go of the blame, the anger, the grief enough to just fix it, to begin the work to repair the buildings and themselves.
Ordinary people struggling with extraordinary problems, trying to find a way to leave the trauma behind them, but refusing to let go of that internal ache that never seems to leave them, they’re so intent on holding onto it.
”Ache.” That physically painful yearning for what was before, a past that seems idyllic in reflection, the pain of watching our children struggle, of watching those we love die, of watching the world we loved morph into something ugly. Still, it can be beautiful again. Hope exists, but we have to find it in ourselves.
Eliza Henry-Jones writing has a quiet beauty, a hushed, raw emotional loveliness that embraces life with all of the grief and sorrow as well as the splendor.
June 6, 2017
"Bushfires are a part of the Australian landscape. This place we call home has been- and will continue to be - shaped by fire. But we still do not understand the very specific type of trauma that can accompany a bushfire." Eliza Henry-Jones , The Guardian May 21, 2017
Eliza Henry-Jones in her new novel gives us more than a glimpse of the trauma, the loss, the heartbreak, the grief over the loss of loved ones, over the loss of their home, over the loss of a place that is no longer as it was, over relationships that have changed because of the fires . The story focuses on Annie and her family and the difficulties in dealing with these losses. It is also about life before the fires and the things from the past that haunt them. It's about the place too - the mountain, the forest, the animals, especially the lyrebird juxtaposed with the city where Annie has been living with her husband and six year old daughter Pip, who wants to be called Phillip for a while as she too suffers the trauma.
The narrative is third person, from Annie's perspective, moving back and forth from present to past. Henry-Jones has a way of making this feel as intimate and introspective as a first person narrative. Annie's relationship with her mother and grandmother in the past as well as a past boyfriend are depicted in the past and in the present, her relationship with her own daughter and her husband. These are fragile people, broken by what has happened yet struggling to heal themselves as well as those they love.
I was so taken with In the Quiet so I was anxious to read this one. I loved this one too but just not quite as much. It didn't hold for me the depth of emotion that In the Quiet did, so in comparison it's 4 rather than 5 stars. Still, highly recommended. Looking forward to her next work.
I received an advanced copy of this book from HarperCollins/Australia through NetGalley.
Eliza Henry-Jones in her new novel gives us more than a glimpse of the trauma, the loss, the heartbreak, the grief over the loss of loved ones, over the loss of their home, over the loss of a place that is no longer as it was, over relationships that have changed because of the fires . The story focuses on Annie and her family and the difficulties in dealing with these losses. It is also about life before the fires and the things from the past that haunt them. It's about the place too - the mountain, the forest, the animals, especially the lyrebird juxtaposed with the city where Annie has been living with her husband and six year old daughter Pip, who wants to be called Phillip for a while as she too suffers the trauma.
The narrative is third person, from Annie's perspective, moving back and forth from present to past. Henry-Jones has a way of making this feel as intimate and introspective as a first person narrative. Annie's relationship with her mother and grandmother in the past as well as a past boyfriend are depicted in the past and in the present, her relationship with her own daughter and her husband. These are fragile people, broken by what has happened yet struggling to heal themselves as well as those they love.
I was so taken with In the Quiet so I was anxious to read this one. I loved this one too but just not quite as much. It didn't hold for me the depth of emotion that In the Quiet did, so in comparison it's 4 rather than 5 stars. Still, highly recommended. Looking forward to her next work.
I received an advanced copy of this book from HarperCollins/Australia through NetGalley.
November 7, 2017
OUT NOW
Eliza Henry-Jones’ In the Quiet was one of my favourite reads of 2015, so I was very keen to read her sophomore novel.
Ache is set in a rural community on the mountain, somewhere in the South East of Australia. The forests are inhabited by lyre birds. A year ago, a big fire destroyed most of the community – people and animals perished, properties were destroyed.
One year on, having witnessed the big fire, Annie, a veterinary who lives in the city, is unsettled, depressed and suffers from PTSD. Her six-year-old daughter, Pip, is also affected by last year’s experiences and she’s acquired quite a few challenging behaviours. Annie and her husband, Tom, try their best to accommodate Pip. But Annie can’t deal with the city life anymore. To Tom’s dismay, she quits her job and goes back to the mountain, where her mother, Susan, is struggling to cope with her own mother’s death. Their relationship is not easy, as Annie’s grandmother, Gladys, was more a mother figure to her than Susan ever was. The only male presence in Annie’s life was her uncle, Len, now a veterinary, who loves lyre birds. I really liked Len. He was such a caring man.
Returning to the devastated community and to her now partially destroyed childhood home is challenging. Locals are still trying to put their lives together, some with more success than others. There’s animosity, bitterness, depression and hate. The mountain still hasn’t recovered from the fires. Everything is burned, grey and dry.
As in her previous novel, the characters are very ordinary people, people who aren’t particularly charming or good looking or rich. Their relationships are simple, yet complex. These relationships are stretched to their limit by traumatic events.
This novel starts off slowly and builds speed progressively. Henry-Jones unravels the story with back and forth stories in time – the structure very similar to In the Quiet.
I loved the writing, the characters and the settings. It’s a simple story, about ordinary people, who have to find a way to move forward. I was enthralled, so much so, I stayed up till 1 am to finish it.
As excited as I was to read this, I was also apprehensive fearing disappointment. Phew, I’m so glad when something lives up to my expectations.
Ache is a tender, heart-warming novel with a distinct Australian feel. I’m looking forward to reading whatever Henry-Jones comes up with next because her writing is special and full of heart.
Many thanks to HarperCollins Australia for this advance reading copy.
Cover: 5 stars
This book goes towards the Aussie Author Challenge hosted by Book Lover Book Reviews at http://bookloverbookreviews.com/readi...
Eliza Henry-Jones’ In the Quiet was one of my favourite reads of 2015, so I was very keen to read her sophomore novel.
Ache is set in a rural community on the mountain, somewhere in the South East of Australia. The forests are inhabited by lyre birds. A year ago, a big fire destroyed most of the community – people and animals perished, properties were destroyed.
One year on, having witnessed the big fire, Annie, a veterinary who lives in the city, is unsettled, depressed and suffers from PTSD. Her six-year-old daughter, Pip, is also affected by last year’s experiences and she’s acquired quite a few challenging behaviours. Annie and her husband, Tom, try their best to accommodate Pip. But Annie can’t deal with the city life anymore. To Tom’s dismay, she quits her job and goes back to the mountain, where her mother, Susan, is struggling to cope with her own mother’s death. Their relationship is not easy, as Annie’s grandmother, Gladys, was more a mother figure to her than Susan ever was. The only male presence in Annie’s life was her uncle, Len, now a veterinary, who loves lyre birds. I really liked Len. He was such a caring man.
Returning to the devastated community and to her now partially destroyed childhood home is challenging. Locals are still trying to put their lives together, some with more success than others. There’s animosity, bitterness, depression and hate. The mountain still hasn’t recovered from the fires. Everything is burned, grey and dry.
As in her previous novel, the characters are very ordinary people, people who aren’t particularly charming or good looking or rich. Their relationships are simple, yet complex. These relationships are stretched to their limit by traumatic events.
This novel starts off slowly and builds speed progressively. Henry-Jones unravels the story with back and forth stories in time – the structure very similar to In the Quiet.
I loved the writing, the characters and the settings. It’s a simple story, about ordinary people, who have to find a way to move forward. I was enthralled, so much so, I stayed up till 1 am to finish it.
As excited as I was to read this, I was also apprehensive fearing disappointment. Phew, I’m so glad when something lives up to my expectations.
Ache is a tender, heart-warming novel with a distinct Australian feel. I’m looking forward to reading whatever Henry-Jones comes up with next because her writing is special and full of heart.
Many thanks to HarperCollins Australia for this advance reading copy.
Cover: 5 stars
This book goes towards the Aussie Author Challenge hosted by Book Lover Book Reviews at http://bookloverbookreviews.com/readi...
July 9, 2017
Eliza Henry-Jones chosen a difficult subject to write about - the aftermath of a devastating bushfire. Bushfires are a common occurrence in Australia and all rural communities fear the bad ones that destroy homes, lives and livelihoods. It take communities years to recover from the grief, loss and heartbreak and yet after the initial national appeals for immediate help, they are often forgotten about as they struggle to rebuild their lives.
In Ache, the mountainous rural community is traumatised and has a long way to go in rebuilding and healing. Annie, a vet now living in the city lost her grandmother when a tree fell on the house. A photo of Annie and her young daughter escaping the fires on her horse broadcast around the world made her famous but also reviled by the local community since she was living in the city and not a local. After the fire, Annie went back to help her Uncle Len, also a vet, take care of the dying and injured animals. But now she is suffering from PTSD, unable to settle back to city life and work. Her daughter Pip is also distressed and acting up so Annie makes the decision to take leave from work and go back to the mountains to stay with her mother, leaving husband Tom in the city. It is only there amongst the traumatised community and the peace and tranquility of the mountain that Annie and Pip can begin to heal and recover.
Henry-Jones writes beautifully about the bush, the sounds and the smells of the desiccated forrest after the fire and the early signs of regrowth are so finely drawn that you feel transported into the landscape and know she is writing from first hand observation. However, I struggled to care much about the people, particularly Annie's mother, Susan. She was a teenager when Annie was born and for some reason this prevented her from ever growing up and taking responsibility. Annie's grandmother took over the mothering Annie and was the person who held the family together. Now she is gone they are all struggling to cope without her and Susan is still behaving badly. Annie herself still has strong feelings for her high school sweetheart, Alex and seems ambivalent about poor Tom left behind in the city. Annie's Uncle Len seems the most balanced of the family, a lovely, caring man, caring for the bush and in particular the lyrebird population that lives on the mountain. He knows that all will be well once they return to the forrest. This is a thoughtful, insightful book about a difficult subject which does well in depicting the emotional upheaval and heartbreak experienced by the survivors of bush fires.
With thanks to Netgalley and the publisher Harper Collins for a copy of the book to read and review.
In Ache, the mountainous rural community is traumatised and has a long way to go in rebuilding and healing. Annie, a vet now living in the city lost her grandmother when a tree fell on the house. A photo of Annie and her young daughter escaping the fires on her horse broadcast around the world made her famous but also reviled by the local community since she was living in the city and not a local. After the fire, Annie went back to help her Uncle Len, also a vet, take care of the dying and injured animals. But now she is suffering from PTSD, unable to settle back to city life and work. Her daughter Pip is also distressed and acting up so Annie makes the decision to take leave from work and go back to the mountains to stay with her mother, leaving husband Tom in the city. It is only there amongst the traumatised community and the peace and tranquility of the mountain that Annie and Pip can begin to heal and recover.
Henry-Jones writes beautifully about the bush, the sounds and the smells of the desiccated forrest after the fire and the early signs of regrowth are so finely drawn that you feel transported into the landscape and know she is writing from first hand observation. However, I struggled to care much about the people, particularly Annie's mother, Susan. She was a teenager when Annie was born and for some reason this prevented her from ever growing up and taking responsibility. Annie's grandmother took over the mothering Annie and was the person who held the family together. Now she is gone they are all struggling to cope without her and Susan is still behaving badly. Annie herself still has strong feelings for her high school sweetheart, Alex and seems ambivalent about poor Tom left behind in the city. Annie's Uncle Len seems the most balanced of the family, a lovely, caring man, caring for the bush and in particular the lyrebird population that lives on the mountain. He knows that all will be well once they return to the forrest. This is a thoughtful, insightful book about a difficult subject which does well in depicting the emotional upheaval and heartbreak experienced by the survivors of bush fires.
With thanks to Netgalley and the publisher Harper Collins for a copy of the book to read and review.
July 4, 2017
*https://mrsbbookreviews.wordpress.com
Last year, I was introduced to bright new voice in Australian literature, Eliza Henry-Jones, through the unforgettable experience of reading her debut novel, In the Quiet. Not only did In the Quiet sit firmly on my list of top reads for 2016, it also hit me with such understated force, that I still reflect back on this novel many books later. It is safe to say I have been eagerly anticipating the release of Ache since I first heard rumblings about the release of a second novel from Henry-Jones. When an opportunity presented itself through Beauty and Lace Book Club to review this book, I was quick off the mark to request a copy to read.
Ache is a beautiful, poignant and jarring study into the aftermath of a very common natural disaster in this country, bushfire. Henry-Jones chooses to zone her story on four generations of women from the same family, directly impacted by a severe fire that rips through their home town of Quilly. The principle character of the novel and the main source of narration in this book comes from Annie, a young mother and vet, who has flown her childhood home in Quilly to live in the city. Annie is a woman who really is in a quandary in her personal life. She feels disconnected from her childhood home, but in the same instance, she is yet to develop an attachment to her city home. When her beloved Uncle Len calls her out the blue to request her help back home, Annie feels the emotional tug of home and leaves her fractured marriage in the city for the solace of the familiar. Gently, Henry-Jones unravels the events of a year prior, when a fierce bushfire ripped through Quilly. Annie was home when this tragic event occurred and her miraculous escape with her young daughter Pip on horseback from the top of the mountain is captured and beamed off to the world via the media. As a result, Annie becomes the face of the fire. This earns her the scrutiny of those inside and outside the town. As painful as it is for Annie to return to the place of so much devastation, the regeneration of Quilly becomes an important part in the healing process for Annie, her daughter, her mother and her marriage.
If you haven’t already discovered the writing of Eliza Henry-Jones you need to make a conscious effort to rectify it through reading this novel, Ache, or her first novel, In the Quiet. Henry-Jones received much acclaim for her first novel and it is obvious why the accolades have come her way, her writing is nothing short of sublime.
With her background in psychology, grief and loss counselling, Henry-Jones utilises this specialisation to ground her novel in a strong dose of realism, as well as understanding. Choosing to focus Ache on the after effects, including PTSD, from a bushfire disaster was tough. Nonetheless I feel it is an essential topic to tackle. Unfortunately, our climate and landscape here in Australia makes us vulnerable to bushfires, such as the devastating one experience by the town of Quilly, featured in this novel. I was so very impressed by the treatment of this topic within the book. The reader is given a balanced picture of the true impact of this event. I felt like Henry-Jones covered all bases in the who, what, when, where, why and how questions surrounding the circumstances of the fire. The fashion in which these questions were answered were not immediate, rather gradually revealed as the book progressed. This served to draw me into Ache even further.
The characterisation in Ache is spot on. Annie is the ideal lead, she is immediately likeable, and relatable, but she also comes with flaws. Her inner torment is obvious and through the third person narration employed by Henry-Jones, Annie becomes the focus of the novel. The reader is privy to the varied emotions Annie wrestles with throughout the novel. Pip, Annie’s six year old daughter, traumatised by fallout from her first hand experience of the dreadful fire, is the most well drawn young voice I have had the privilege of reading for some time. It takes measured skill to be able deliver a narrative and portray an array of characters in the vivid way Henry Jones does, she just seems to take it in her stride. The side characters, such as Annie’s alternative living mother Susan, the loveable Uncle Len and the Annie’s husband Tom, are as well drawn as their lead counterparts. I felt I came to know all these characters by the time my journey with Ache ended (regretfully).
I must make mention of the landscape in Ache, as it is just wonderful, defined clearly by some stunning imagery and lyrical prose. I am unfamiliar with mountain based rural locations like the town of Quilly in Ache. Living in a well populated coastal location on the other side of Australia, means I have to rely significantly on the descriptors given by an author to portray their setting. This is where Henry-Jones truly excels. Her landscape passages are so beautifully drawn, the surrounding flora and fauna feature heavily and are easily imagined by the reader as a result. Henry-Jones also captures the desolation of the effects of bushfire to a region, in contrast to the positive regeneration of the same area that we witness during the progression of the book. These were my favoured passages of the novel.
Ache is a tender novel, concerning itself with matters such as family, loss, survival, reinvention and courage, meticulously written by an accomplished Australian author. I was impressed, but not at all surprised, by the way in which this absorbing character focussed novel lingered with me and will continue to resonate with me, long after closing the last page. Ache is a deeply impressive second novel from Ms Henry-Jones.
*Please note that a free copy of this book was provided to me for review purposes through Beauty and Lace.
Last year, I was introduced to bright new voice in Australian literature, Eliza Henry-Jones, through the unforgettable experience of reading her debut novel, In the Quiet. Not only did In the Quiet sit firmly on my list of top reads for 2016, it also hit me with such understated force, that I still reflect back on this novel many books later. It is safe to say I have been eagerly anticipating the release of Ache since I first heard rumblings about the release of a second novel from Henry-Jones. When an opportunity presented itself through Beauty and Lace Book Club to review this book, I was quick off the mark to request a copy to read.
Ache is a beautiful, poignant and jarring study into the aftermath of a very common natural disaster in this country, bushfire. Henry-Jones chooses to zone her story on four generations of women from the same family, directly impacted by a severe fire that rips through their home town of Quilly. The principle character of the novel and the main source of narration in this book comes from Annie, a young mother and vet, who has flown her childhood home in Quilly to live in the city. Annie is a woman who really is in a quandary in her personal life. She feels disconnected from her childhood home, but in the same instance, she is yet to develop an attachment to her city home. When her beloved Uncle Len calls her out the blue to request her help back home, Annie feels the emotional tug of home and leaves her fractured marriage in the city for the solace of the familiar. Gently, Henry-Jones unravels the events of a year prior, when a fierce bushfire ripped through Quilly. Annie was home when this tragic event occurred and her miraculous escape with her young daughter Pip on horseback from the top of the mountain is captured and beamed off to the world via the media. As a result, Annie becomes the face of the fire. This earns her the scrutiny of those inside and outside the town. As painful as it is for Annie to return to the place of so much devastation, the regeneration of Quilly becomes an important part in the healing process for Annie, her daughter, her mother and her marriage.
If you haven’t already discovered the writing of Eliza Henry-Jones you need to make a conscious effort to rectify it through reading this novel, Ache, or her first novel, In the Quiet. Henry-Jones received much acclaim for her first novel and it is obvious why the accolades have come her way, her writing is nothing short of sublime.
With her background in psychology, grief and loss counselling, Henry-Jones utilises this specialisation to ground her novel in a strong dose of realism, as well as understanding. Choosing to focus Ache on the after effects, including PTSD, from a bushfire disaster was tough. Nonetheless I feel it is an essential topic to tackle. Unfortunately, our climate and landscape here in Australia makes us vulnerable to bushfires, such as the devastating one experience by the town of Quilly, featured in this novel. I was so very impressed by the treatment of this topic within the book. The reader is given a balanced picture of the true impact of this event. I felt like Henry-Jones covered all bases in the who, what, when, where, why and how questions surrounding the circumstances of the fire. The fashion in which these questions were answered were not immediate, rather gradually revealed as the book progressed. This served to draw me into Ache even further.
The characterisation in Ache is spot on. Annie is the ideal lead, she is immediately likeable, and relatable, but she also comes with flaws. Her inner torment is obvious and through the third person narration employed by Henry-Jones, Annie becomes the focus of the novel. The reader is privy to the varied emotions Annie wrestles with throughout the novel. Pip, Annie’s six year old daughter, traumatised by fallout from her first hand experience of the dreadful fire, is the most well drawn young voice I have had the privilege of reading for some time. It takes measured skill to be able deliver a narrative and portray an array of characters in the vivid way Henry Jones does, she just seems to take it in her stride. The side characters, such as Annie’s alternative living mother Susan, the loveable Uncle Len and the Annie’s husband Tom, are as well drawn as their lead counterparts. I felt I came to know all these characters by the time my journey with Ache ended (regretfully).
I must make mention of the landscape in Ache, as it is just wonderful, defined clearly by some stunning imagery and lyrical prose. I am unfamiliar with mountain based rural locations like the town of Quilly in Ache. Living in a well populated coastal location on the other side of Australia, means I have to rely significantly on the descriptors given by an author to portray their setting. This is where Henry-Jones truly excels. Her landscape passages are so beautifully drawn, the surrounding flora and fauna feature heavily and are easily imagined by the reader as a result. Henry-Jones also captures the desolation of the effects of bushfire to a region, in contrast to the positive regeneration of the same area that we witness during the progression of the book. These were my favoured passages of the novel.
Ache is a tender novel, concerning itself with matters such as family, loss, survival, reinvention and courage, meticulously written by an accomplished Australian author. I was impressed, but not at all surprised, by the way in which this absorbing character focussed novel lingered with me and will continue to resonate with me, long after closing the last page. Ache is a deeply impressive second novel from Ms Henry-Jones.
*Please note that a free copy of this book was provided to me for review purposes through Beauty and Lace.
August 6, 2017
3.5★
“Up here’s pretty f***ed-up now. It used to be pretty grey, you know? I think most places are grey. But the fires, they make everything shatter into black and white. It’s all so extreme. Everything. Moments where people are so beautiful and so strong and so giving, and then all the other stuff. It’s bloody exhausting.”
So says Rose, Annie's sister, who’s been living on the mountain following severe bushfires the previous year. Annie became famous after a picture of her on horseback, racing out of the fires with her small daughter, hit the front pages of all the major dailies and magazines. She loathes the photo and all it stands for, but we don't know why (well, not for a long time).
She did go back and help but is accused of not really “being there” at the time. She’s a vet and a very capable person, but apparently she didn’t have the personal touch some of the others did. She lives in the city now, maybe Melbourne, though we’re never told, but this sounds like country Victoria and the author lives in Melbourne. Annie and Tom have a 6-year-old daughter, Pip, who wants to be called Phillip now (a male name to indicate she’s brave, she explains later).
Annie’s pretty much a mess; Pip’s a bit of a mess; Annie’s mother, Susan, (who lives in Gran’s house on the mountain) was a teen-aged mother and never really grew up, so she’s a bit of a mess; and Gran died in the wind that fed the fire. Gran, by all accounts, was the rock they all relied on.
Annie’s been living in the city but feels compelled to return to look in on her mother, who’s living in the house the tree fell on that killed Gran. She feels she needs to be there, but Tom finds it too wild for him – he’s a city boy.
“Tom didn’t understand that Annie had to be on the mountain. That the broken generator was her generator. That the broken house was her house. That there was a bit of her that existed beyond him, beyond them. That there was a part of her separate from Pip.”
There are undercurrents and innuendo about the fire, her high school beau, Alex, the inhabitants of the small village – those who stayed, those who left – but I have to say, I didn’t find anyone very interesting, including (or maybe especially) Annie and her family.
I didn’t read the author’s much-lauded debut novel In the Quiet, so I didn’t know what to expect, but probably not this. She’s a fine writer, which may sound odd, considering my whinge above, but I’m looking forward now to reading her first book. This was a nice bit from this one.
“The people who had lost the most were often the ones who told the worst jokes, who worked themselves up into a flurry to get things sorted. The roads cleared, the food distributed, the houses checked. In between the jokes and the manic activity, they’d sit with horrified expressions on their faces. Their grief became like bottles of liquor clutched in underage hands. They hid it in public and opened it up in private, where things were dark and quiet. And after, they slept badly. They rose feeling ill. And the cycle of it repeated itself.”
Thanks to NetGalley and Harper Collins for the preview copy from which I’ve quoted (so quotes may have changed).
“Up here’s pretty f***ed-up now. It used to be pretty grey, you know? I think most places are grey. But the fires, they make everything shatter into black and white. It’s all so extreme. Everything. Moments where people are so beautiful and so strong and so giving, and then all the other stuff. It’s bloody exhausting.”
So says Rose, Annie's sister, who’s been living on the mountain following severe bushfires the previous year. Annie became famous after a picture of her on horseback, racing out of the fires with her small daughter, hit the front pages of all the major dailies and magazines. She loathes the photo and all it stands for, but we don't know why (well, not for a long time).
She did go back and help but is accused of not really “being there” at the time. She’s a vet and a very capable person, but apparently she didn’t have the personal touch some of the others did. She lives in the city now, maybe Melbourne, though we’re never told, but this sounds like country Victoria and the author lives in Melbourne. Annie and Tom have a 6-year-old daughter, Pip, who wants to be called Phillip now (a male name to indicate she’s brave, she explains later).
Annie’s pretty much a mess; Pip’s a bit of a mess; Annie’s mother, Susan, (who lives in Gran’s house on the mountain) was a teen-aged mother and never really grew up, so she’s a bit of a mess; and Gran died in the wind that fed the fire. Gran, by all accounts, was the rock they all relied on.
Annie’s been living in the city but feels compelled to return to look in on her mother, who’s living in the house the tree fell on that killed Gran. She feels she needs to be there, but Tom finds it too wild for him – he’s a city boy.
“Tom didn’t understand that Annie had to be on the mountain. That the broken generator was her generator. That the broken house was her house. That there was a bit of her that existed beyond him, beyond them. That there was a part of her separate from Pip.”
There are undercurrents and innuendo about the fire, her high school beau, Alex, the inhabitants of the small village – those who stayed, those who left – but I have to say, I didn’t find anyone very interesting, including (or maybe especially) Annie and her family.
I didn’t read the author’s much-lauded debut novel In the Quiet, so I didn’t know what to expect, but probably not this. She’s a fine writer, which may sound odd, considering my whinge above, but I’m looking forward now to reading her first book. This was a nice bit from this one.
“The people who had lost the most were often the ones who told the worst jokes, who worked themselves up into a flurry to get things sorted. The roads cleared, the food distributed, the houses checked. In between the jokes and the manic activity, they’d sit with horrified expressions on their faces. Their grief became like bottles of liquor clutched in underage hands. They hid it in public and opened it up in private, where things were dark and quiet. And after, they slept badly. They rose feeling ill. And the cycle of it repeated itself.”
Thanks to NetGalley and Harper Collins for the preview copy from which I’ve quoted (so quotes may have changed).
May 26, 2017
Annie had had her world torn apart by the bushfire in the mountains which had killed her gran, Gladys and partially destroyed her mother’s house – but it was the trauma which still rippled through her six year old daughter Pip that kept the nightmares and sleepless nights around. Living in the city with husband Tom, Annie and Pip struggled on. But Annie missed the mountains that had been her life, plus her mother wasn’t coping well. She needed to return…
Tom was unable to leave work – and he disliked the mountains anyway – so Annie and Pip returned to visit Susan before Christmas. Annie was shocked at what she found – her uncle had been right in his assessment of her mother; and the state of the house that had had nothing done to repair it was concerning. But there was more to it all; Annie knew there was.
With Annie’s marriage faltering; Pip wild, disobedient and reverting to bed-wetting as well as Susan to care for, Annie felt like she could scream some days. What would happen to the little family that had had their lives torn from under them?
Ache by Aussie author Eliza Henry-Jones is the second book for this author after the hugely successful In the Quiet, which I thoroughly enjoyed. Keen to grab this one when I learned of its publication, I’m afraid I feel really disappointed. I couldn’t connect with any of the characters and though I know Pip was traumatised, she was a brat who needed much more discipline than she was getting. I was also shocked by the continual use of unnecessary coarse and offensive language, especially in the hearing of a six year old child.
With thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for my digital copy to read and review.
Tom was unable to leave work – and he disliked the mountains anyway – so Annie and Pip returned to visit Susan before Christmas. Annie was shocked at what she found – her uncle had been right in his assessment of her mother; and the state of the house that had had nothing done to repair it was concerning. But there was more to it all; Annie knew there was.
With Annie’s marriage faltering; Pip wild, disobedient and reverting to bed-wetting as well as Susan to care for, Annie felt like she could scream some days. What would happen to the little family that had had their lives torn from under them?
Ache by Aussie author Eliza Henry-Jones is the second book for this author after the hugely successful In the Quiet, which I thoroughly enjoyed. Keen to grab this one when I learned of its publication, I’m afraid I feel really disappointed. I couldn’t connect with any of the characters and though I know Pip was traumatised, she was a brat who needed much more discipline than she was getting. I was also shocked by the continual use of unnecessary coarse and offensive language, especially in the hearing of a six year old child.
With thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for my digital copy to read and review.
June 11, 2017
Eliza Henry-Jones is a relatively new, young author but seriously I would not have guessed it. In her novel Ache she masterfully leads her audience through the aftermath and trauma that follows bushfire. In her fictitious town of Quilly it is almost 12 months since the fires swept through claiming lives, destroying homes and families. The community is suffering a collective form of PTSD and grieving their losses.
" Their grief became like bottles of liquor clutched in underage hands. They hid it in public and opened it up in private, where things were dark and quiet. And after , they slept badly. They rose feeling ill. And the cycle of it repeated itself."
The author did a wonderful job of capturing the essence of country Australia with it's beautiful but harsh environment, vividly describing the smells, the sounds, bringing to life the people. Annie Thompson is the central character. Although she now lives in the city, Quilly has always been home and she and her young daughter Pip experienced the fires first hand. Neither of them has truly recovered from the ordeal, the family is disintegrating, and Annie feels the need to return to the mountain. They stay in what was the family home. It was virtually demolished and her mother is living in squallor. In a community of traumatised people tempers flare unexpectedly, behaviour is at times erratic and emotions are unpredictable. The Thompson family is shown warts and all as they work through jealousies and assorted insecurities. It is sad at times and feels so real, yet there is hope. Ultimately it is a story of healing.
So many Australian communities and families have fallen victim to bushfires over the years. The media spotlight shines upon these communities for a while and as a nation we feel their pain then move on with our lives, or onto the next great tragedy. This book made me stop and reflect upon the long term impact of bushfire and the ache that the victims of these natural disasters carry with them for the rest of their lives. So very well done Eliza Henry-Jones.
Thanks to the author, to Harper Collins Publishers Australia and NetGalley for the opportunity to read this digital ARC in exchange for an honest review.
" Their grief became like bottles of liquor clutched in underage hands. They hid it in public and opened it up in private, where things were dark and quiet. And after , they slept badly. They rose feeling ill. And the cycle of it repeated itself."
The author did a wonderful job of capturing the essence of country Australia with it's beautiful but harsh environment, vividly describing the smells, the sounds, bringing to life the people. Annie Thompson is the central character. Although she now lives in the city, Quilly has always been home and she and her young daughter Pip experienced the fires first hand. Neither of them has truly recovered from the ordeal, the family is disintegrating, and Annie feels the need to return to the mountain. They stay in what was the family home. It was virtually demolished and her mother is living in squallor. In a community of traumatised people tempers flare unexpectedly, behaviour is at times erratic and emotions are unpredictable. The Thompson family is shown warts and all as they work through jealousies and assorted insecurities. It is sad at times and feels so real, yet there is hope. Ultimately it is a story of healing.
So many Australian communities and families have fallen victim to bushfires over the years. The media spotlight shines upon these communities for a while and as a nation we feel their pain then move on with our lives, or onto the next great tragedy. This book made me stop and reflect upon the long term impact of bushfire and the ache that the victims of these natural disasters carry with them for the rest of their lives. So very well done Eliza Henry-Jones.
Thanks to the author, to Harper Collins Publishers Australia and NetGalley for the opportunity to read this digital ARC in exchange for an honest review.
June 6, 2017
Having read the author's debut novel 'In the Quiet', I certainly wasn't disappointed with this one.
Annie has always loved the mountain but she has made her home in the city as a vet, with her husband Tom and six year old daughter Pip. It's been a year since a devastating fire ripped the soul out of the mountain where she was brought up and it's people, she was up there at the time and her escape from the fire on her horse 'Luna' with Pip, was captured for all time by a photographer and plastered across newspapers. The irony of the picture is that her childhood house was spared from the fire but her Grandmother Gladys who stayed behind, was killed by a tree that fell on the house in the wind. A year on sees Annie still unsettled, Pip now wanting to be called Phillip and having anxiety issues. Tom is caught up with work and is blind sided when Annie announces she wants and needs to go back to the mountain for a while with Pip.
I love a book that makes me feel....not that happy, light satisfied feeling but that deep chested 'Ache' (such an apt title), where you feel so much for the characters. And this book made me do just that. The story is as much about life post fire and it's effects on people and the things they do just to get through the days but it's also about the relationship between mothers and daughters. A beautiful story full of acceptance and healing, I loved it.
Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for a copy to read and review.
Annie has always loved the mountain but she has made her home in the city as a vet, with her husband Tom and six year old daughter Pip. It's been a year since a devastating fire ripped the soul out of the mountain where she was brought up and it's people, she was up there at the time and her escape from the fire on her horse 'Luna' with Pip, was captured for all time by a photographer and plastered across newspapers. The irony of the picture is that her childhood house was spared from the fire but her Grandmother Gladys who stayed behind, was killed by a tree that fell on the house in the wind. A year on sees Annie still unsettled, Pip now wanting to be called Phillip and having anxiety issues. Tom is caught up with work and is blind sided when Annie announces she wants and needs to go back to the mountain for a while with Pip.
I love a book that makes me feel....not that happy, light satisfied feeling but that deep chested 'Ache' (such an apt title), where you feel so much for the characters. And this book made me do just that. The story is as much about life post fire and it's effects on people and the things they do just to get through the days but it's also about the relationship between mothers and daughters. A beautiful story full of acceptance and healing, I loved it.
Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for a copy to read and review.
May 22, 2017
Henry-Jones has qualifications in psychology, grief, loss and trauma counselling and completed an honours thesis exploring bushfire trauma in fiction. So there are probably few people as qualified to write a book about the aftermath of bush fires; the post-traumatic stress that comes with fear and loss, and the regeneration that follows. Of course it also helps that Henry-Jones writes beautifully and sympathetically and cares deeply about the people and places in her books.
Henry-Jones doesn’t provide us with much detail of the bush fire which so traumatised Annie, her daughter Pip and the town of Quilly until late in the novel. She deftly ekes out elements until we eventually learn more about the fire which endangered Annie and Pip and inadvertently caused the death of Annie’s beloved grandmother, Gladys – amongst others’. It was a fire that destroyed a town and its residents, testing their resilience beyond what they could ever have expected.
Annie grew up in Quilly and has struggled to settle into city life with her husband Tom and Pip, though she’s lived away from the farm (and mountain) for many years. In the year since the fire she and Pip have both become increasingly agitated and anxious… although 6yr old Pip is (understandably) far worse at hiding the impacts than her mother.
So, it only takes a call from her uncle to have Annie returning to Quilly for an extended Christmas vacation, with Pip – leaving her husband Tom frustrated at his wife’s lack of consideration and his place in her mind as an afterthought.
Once in Quilly we meet Annie’s eccentric mother Susan, her uncle Len and his wife (and Annie’s childhood bestie) Rose.
Henry-Jones does a wonderful job with our characters. I really liked Annie and the novel’s written from her point-of-view (in third person for those who care about that stuff) so we know what she’s going through. Her confusion. Her sadness. Her trauma and anxiety. Pip’s also a wonderfully drawn character and I think Henry-Jones nails the 6yr old’s voice and it’s really through Pip we travel the journey to recovery. And then of course there’s Susan, an artist, far more complex than she could have been and exactly what Annie and Pip need.
Nature, and the bush and its life also form key characters. We learn that when Annie was young she felt the trees spoke to her, and she still likes the feeling of the wood ‘alive’ in her hands as she whittles.
Henry-Jones writes beautifully and there’s a sentimentality in her writing that is sad and poetic but not at all twee.
I was also enveloped with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia as I passed through the lives of Annie, Pip and Susan. Annie spends a great deal of time remembering her childhood with Gladys, Len and Susan. It occurs to her that her life on the mountain offered a magic she’s struggled to replicate and she wonders what Pip will remember of her childhood.
Of course there’s a (more serious) underlying message in this book. One of hope and resilience. Much of the book focuses on the aftereffects of the bushfire and of the way tragedy has ravaged the town, its people, the mountain’s wildlife and even Susan’s ‘broken’ house which she refuses to fix.
Henry-Jones does a wonderful job at capturing the devastation and the overwhelming sense of grief.
But slowly and surely, there’s a sense of movement. Things start growing. Wildlife starts returning. Positivity emerges and people start healing. Indeed, Annie and Pip’s emotional journey and recovery is very much mirrored by the mountain and its inhabitants.
This novel beautifully captures everything from love and passion to anxiety and grief. I also think it says a lot about its author and her passion for people, places and her respect for the land. And – most importantly – it left me with a sense of hope.
4.5 stars
Read the full review on my site: http://www.debbish.com/books-literatu...
Henry-Jones doesn’t provide us with much detail of the bush fire which so traumatised Annie, her daughter Pip and the town of Quilly until late in the novel. She deftly ekes out elements until we eventually learn more about the fire which endangered Annie and Pip and inadvertently caused the death of Annie’s beloved grandmother, Gladys – amongst others’. It was a fire that destroyed a town and its residents, testing their resilience beyond what they could ever have expected.
Annie grew up in Quilly and has struggled to settle into city life with her husband Tom and Pip, though she’s lived away from the farm (and mountain) for many years. In the year since the fire she and Pip have both become increasingly agitated and anxious… although 6yr old Pip is (understandably) far worse at hiding the impacts than her mother.
So, it only takes a call from her uncle to have Annie returning to Quilly for an extended Christmas vacation, with Pip – leaving her husband Tom frustrated at his wife’s lack of consideration and his place in her mind as an afterthought.
Once in Quilly we meet Annie’s eccentric mother Susan, her uncle Len and his wife (and Annie’s childhood bestie) Rose.
Henry-Jones does a wonderful job with our characters. I really liked Annie and the novel’s written from her point-of-view (in third person for those who care about that stuff) so we know what she’s going through. Her confusion. Her sadness. Her trauma and anxiety. Pip’s also a wonderfully drawn character and I think Henry-Jones nails the 6yr old’s voice and it’s really through Pip we travel the journey to recovery. And then of course there’s Susan, an artist, far more complex than she could have been and exactly what Annie and Pip need.
Nature, and the bush and its life also form key characters. We learn that when Annie was young she felt the trees spoke to her, and she still likes the feeling of the wood ‘alive’ in her hands as she whittles.
Henry-Jones writes beautifully and there’s a sentimentality in her writing that is sad and poetic but not at all twee.
I was also enveloped with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia as I passed through the lives of Annie, Pip and Susan. Annie spends a great deal of time remembering her childhood with Gladys, Len and Susan. It occurs to her that her life on the mountain offered a magic she’s struggled to replicate and she wonders what Pip will remember of her childhood.
Of course there’s a (more serious) underlying message in this book. One of hope and resilience. Much of the book focuses on the aftereffects of the bushfire and of the way tragedy has ravaged the town, its people, the mountain’s wildlife and even Susan’s ‘broken’ house which she refuses to fix.
Henry-Jones does a wonderful job at capturing the devastation and the overwhelming sense of grief.
But slowly and surely, there’s a sense of movement. Things start growing. Wildlife starts returning. Positivity emerges and people start healing. Indeed, Annie and Pip’s emotional journey and recovery is very much mirrored by the mountain and its inhabitants.
This novel beautifully captures everything from love and passion to anxiety and grief. I also think it says a lot about its author and her passion for people, places and her respect for the land. And – most importantly – it left me with a sense of hope.
4.5 stars
Read the full review on my site: http://www.debbish.com/books-literatu...
May 27, 2017
Ache is an understated and moving novel, dealing with grief, trauma and healing following a devastating bushfires in a small rural community.
The book is set one year after the tragedy, when the town is still trying to come to terms with its loss. Reading this is not a raw, cathartic emotion-letting, but rather an insight into the dull ache of attempting to carry on. The characters are mostly going about the necessaries of daily life with a minimum of fuss, all the while attempting to heal and knowing that nothing will ever really be the same.
The simple prose and languid pace of this book are very effective at drawing the reader into the pace and matter-of-fact attitude of country life. I've decided that I quite enjoy 'rural Australian literary fiction', provided it is written in the appropriate, no-bullshit style. There's something comforting yet still rough around the edges about it, like visiting your rellies who live in the bush. It helps that I get a bit nostalgic over something as minor as a mention of Stingose.
The representations here of trauma, survivor guilt and grief are rendered with compassion and never sink into melodrama. Some readers might find the writing style a little aloof, the characters too stoic and unyielding, but it felt more real to me for that.
If 'rural noir' is a new trending sub-genre, maybe 'rural melancholy' can become a thing too.
The book is set one year after the tragedy, when the town is still trying to come to terms with its loss. Reading this is not a raw, cathartic emotion-letting, but rather an insight into the dull ache of attempting to carry on. The characters are mostly going about the necessaries of daily life with a minimum of fuss, all the while attempting to heal and knowing that nothing will ever really be the same.
The simple prose and languid pace of this book are very effective at drawing the reader into the pace and matter-of-fact attitude of country life. I've decided that I quite enjoy 'rural Australian literary fiction', provided it is written in the appropriate, no-bullshit style. There's something comforting yet still rough around the edges about it, like visiting your rellies who live in the bush. It helps that I get a bit nostalgic over something as minor as a mention of Stingose.
The representations here of trauma, survivor guilt and grief are rendered with compassion and never sink into melodrama. Some readers might find the writing style a little aloof, the characters too stoic and unyielding, but it felt more real to me for that.
If 'rural noir' is a new trending sub-genre, maybe 'rural melancholy' can become a thing too.
July 2, 2017
The writing in this is gorgeous and evocative, but it took me a little while to sink into the story. By the end though, I was glad I read this. Annie's a difficult, frustrating character and I didn't really buy that the relationship between Annie and Tom was salvageable, but the examination of trauma and recovery and the beautiful description of the landscape were enough to keep me in.
June 20, 2017
The achingly beautiful novel Ache (Fourth Estate Harper Collins 2017) by (Eliza Jane) Eliza Henry Jones is a tender and understated exploration of grief and loss and the reverberations of trauma. Set a year after a terrible bushfire destroyed lives and property on the mountain, the novel introduces us to Annie, who has returned to what is left of her family home. Devastated by the death of her grandmother, frustrated by her mother’s odd behaviour, and unsure how to respond to her daughter Pip’s unsettled nature, Annie is torn between her love for the mountain and all it represents, including her adolescent sweetheart, and her desire to rekindle the spark with her husband, Tom, and to repair what is broken in her relationships with all those close to her.
Ache is a novel not about what happens, but about what has happened. The bushfire, the deaths, the worst trauma of her daughter, her estrangement from her mother, her difficulties with Tom – all of these events have already happened when the novel opens. And so it is not these events themselves – but rather the characters’ responses to the circumstances – that constitute the narrative and provide the conflict, tension and suspense that pulls the reader along.
The language and tone of the book are almost ethereal: detailed descriptions of place and landscape; memories of dreams; reminiscences of days gone by; nostalgia for the past. Nothing is overstated. Many of the plot points, or the interrelationships between characters, are vague and hazy at the beginning, with the author only giving nuanced hints at what lies beneath. It is left to the reader to uncover the truths, in their own time, as the novel progresses.
The people on the mountain have been exposed to the worst kind of physical and emotional trauma, losing what was precious to them, the fire forever changing their way of life, and the way they relate to each other and to the world. Their responses are widely varied, and perhaps not always what we would expect. And this is what gives the novel its authenticity and charm – the eccentricities wrought by suffering, the million different ways humans respond to distress. There are several recurring themes throughout the novel – the hunt for the lyrebirds; Pip’s attachment to her scarf, and her insistence she be called Phillip; the character of Luna, the horse who carried Annie and Pip from the flames, the attachment of people to their animals; art as a healing medium – and all of these speak to greater profound truths about grief, death, loss, family and community. Above all, this is a hopeful story, not in a saccharine or superficial way, but presenting us with a deeper and more meaningful and moving examination of how lives and people might be repaired when they are broken, how families might come together despite separation and conflict, and how communities might reunite after traumatic incidents.
Ache is a novel not about what happens, but about what has happened. The bushfire, the deaths, the worst trauma of her daughter, her estrangement from her mother, her difficulties with Tom – all of these events have already happened when the novel opens. And so it is not these events themselves – but rather the characters’ responses to the circumstances – that constitute the narrative and provide the conflict, tension and suspense that pulls the reader along.
The language and tone of the book are almost ethereal: detailed descriptions of place and landscape; memories of dreams; reminiscences of days gone by; nostalgia for the past. Nothing is overstated. Many of the plot points, or the interrelationships between characters, are vague and hazy at the beginning, with the author only giving nuanced hints at what lies beneath. It is left to the reader to uncover the truths, in their own time, as the novel progresses.
The people on the mountain have been exposed to the worst kind of physical and emotional trauma, losing what was precious to them, the fire forever changing their way of life, and the way they relate to each other and to the world. Their responses are widely varied, and perhaps not always what we would expect. And this is what gives the novel its authenticity and charm – the eccentricities wrought by suffering, the million different ways humans respond to distress. There are several recurring themes throughout the novel – the hunt for the lyrebirds; Pip’s attachment to her scarf, and her insistence she be called Phillip; the character of Luna, the horse who carried Annie and Pip from the flames, the attachment of people to their animals; art as a healing medium – and all of these speak to greater profound truths about grief, death, loss, family and community. Above all, this is a hopeful story, not in a saccharine or superficial way, but presenting us with a deeper and more meaningful and moving examination of how lives and people might be repaired when they are broken, how families might come together despite separation and conflict, and how communities might reunite after traumatic incidents.
April 13, 2017
I really enjoyed Eliza Henry Jones's debut In the Quiet. It wasn't perfect but it's rare to read a debut with so much raw potential for what might follow. I often love debuts with little expectations the author will have much of a writing career (I honestly think there are a lot of people with one great book in them). Australian fiction needs writers like Jones: literary but also midlist/commercial. Her choice of farming settings also appealed to me as so much debut Aus fiction is city centric. Rural fiction in Australia is dominated by rural romance commercial fiction which is really not for me. So I was excited for Ache but try as I might I felt like I couldn't enter the book. Jones is trying to keep lots of questions unanswered to establish mystery but that holds the reader at a remove from the characters. And I think the characters were the problem here – Pip seems much younger than she is (she's 6) and Annie seemed like a crappy and uninteresting person for so much of the book. Her marriage was downright depressing until it suddenly wasn't and her love for her childhood boyfriend was beautiful but of course doomed. This book clearly wanted to explore mother-daughter relationships (one of my favourite topics for fiction to explore) but I didn't find any of said relationships believable. Early on in the book I just couldn't grasp the loose ends Jones was weaving and by the time I could I didn't care enough. I'm crestfallen. I was so excited to see Jones reach the potential I saw in In the Quiet. I'll still read what comes next though because second books are hard and I think Jones has a lot more to give. I'm being generous with the three stars.
June 27, 2017
My View:
I have had great difficulty trying to find the right words to describe my reaction to this book. It was an amazing read – written so beautifully, the writing seducing the reader to read more and more…and the feelings it evoked…an abundance of feelings. The characters so credible and the situations they face almost unbearable at times and almost unbearable to read such is the empathy I felt for these paper people.
Survivor guilt, grief, PTSD…this book covers it all yet despite the challenging scenarios presented in this narrative it is not a negative or depressing read, in fact it is full optimism. Read and discover your new favourite author.
I have had great difficulty trying to find the right words to describe my reaction to this book. It was an amazing read – written so beautifully, the writing seducing the reader to read more and more…and the feelings it evoked…an abundance of feelings. The characters so credible and the situations they face almost unbearable at times and almost unbearable to read such is the empathy I felt for these paper people.
Survivor guilt, grief, PTSD…this book covers it all yet despite the challenging scenarios presented in this narrative it is not a negative or depressing read, in fact it is full optimism. Read and discover your new favourite author.
May 29, 2017
Months after the fires that almost claimed their lives, Annie and her small daughter Pip are still plagued by nightmares and flashbacks. Even though the papers hailed Annie a hero, their front pages all showing the dramatic photo a woman galloping her horse through a blazing inferno, clutching her child in her arms, Annie knows that it wasn’t that simple. It was her fault they were in the path of danger that day. Annie, who had grown up in those hills should have known better.
Escaping back to her city life and into the arms of her bewildered husband, who cannot possibly understand the trauma Annie and Pip have been through, may have put some geographical distance between her and the scene of the horror, but it hasn’t been able to erase her memories. Annie knows that she has to go back to the hills she both loves and fears. The place where she grew up, went to school, first kissed a boy. The place where she nearly died. So despite her husband’s advice, she packs up the car, bundles up Pip and sets off for the hills to confront her worst nightmares.
Ache is a beautifully written book by an author who clearly understands the aftermath of trauma and loss, and who sensitively explores the issue through the eyes of her main protagonists: Annie, the young mother, who has left her home in the hills to pursue her career as veterinarian, but whose heart still belongs to the country. Pip, her six-year old daughter, who hides her trauma and fears by acting out. Susan, Annie’s mother, an eccentric artist who has retreated into her lonely cabin to bake cupcakes, unable to paint or move past the event which cost her mother’s life. And the bewildered Tom, Annie’s husband, who looks on helplessly as his wife and daughter battle their inner demons, unable to get close to them. Although the story is narrated by Annie, we get to know each character intimately – their pain, their fears, their inner turmoil.
As Annie returns to her hometown, she must not only confront her own demons but also those of the town’s inhabitants, people she has known all her life. It is this portrayal of a small community rocked and split apart by tragedy where Henry-Jones’ real talent shone through for me, perfectly capturing the dynamics of people touched by trauma and death. Having lived through a real-live natural disaster myself in the past, some of the things she describes hit very close to home. There were those people who pulled together, and those who fled. People who exploited the tragedy for their own gain, and those who just quietly got on with things, helped out where needed, never craving the spotlight. The initial euphoria of having survived, quickly replaced by the reality of the devastation surrounding them. And the need to find a scapegoat for the pain, the suffering – lashing out at each other in blind fury, all previous allegiances forgotten in the aftermath of the tragedy. Each one of Henry-Jones’ characters is well drawn and true-to-life, their emotions raw, honest and laid bare for everyone to see.
As Annie returns to her old home, we get to know her through flashbacks to her childhood, growing up with a teenage mother and a grandmother who was very much the head of the household, Annie’s uncle the only male figure in her life. There is a nostalgia in Annie’s voice that goes deeper than just dealing with the trauma – it speaks of displacement, of loss of place, of innocence, of home. Still drawn to the hills that featured so strongly in her life, Annie’s city life is a mere front, one that she can no longer maintain.
I also loved Pip, the small girl whose inability to express her trauma into words makes her act out, lash out in anger and fear. It is only with her equally traumatised grandmother that Pip learns to confront her fears, step by little step, to make real healing possible.
Ache is a beautiful tale of trauma, loss and redemption. Like a phoenix rising out of the ashes, our characters need to be stripped completely raw to be able to move on. A rebirth of a kind, a healing, a moving on. In the small steps Henry-Jones’ characters take towards rebuilding their lives, there is a message of hope, of inner peace, of growth. Beautifully written, this is a nostalgic and somewhat dreamy read which deeply touched my heart. Very highly recommended.
Thank you to Netgalley and HarperCollins Publishers Australia for the free electronic copy of this novel and for giving me the opportunity to provide an honest review.
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Escaping back to her city life and into the arms of her bewildered husband, who cannot possibly understand the trauma Annie and Pip have been through, may have put some geographical distance between her and the scene of the horror, but it hasn’t been able to erase her memories. Annie knows that she has to go back to the hills she both loves and fears. The place where she grew up, went to school, first kissed a boy. The place where she nearly died. So despite her husband’s advice, she packs up the car, bundles up Pip and sets off for the hills to confront her worst nightmares.
Ache is a beautifully written book by an author who clearly understands the aftermath of trauma and loss, and who sensitively explores the issue through the eyes of her main protagonists: Annie, the young mother, who has left her home in the hills to pursue her career as veterinarian, but whose heart still belongs to the country. Pip, her six-year old daughter, who hides her trauma and fears by acting out. Susan, Annie’s mother, an eccentric artist who has retreated into her lonely cabin to bake cupcakes, unable to paint or move past the event which cost her mother’s life. And the bewildered Tom, Annie’s husband, who looks on helplessly as his wife and daughter battle their inner demons, unable to get close to them. Although the story is narrated by Annie, we get to know each character intimately – their pain, their fears, their inner turmoil.
As Annie returns to her hometown, she must not only confront her own demons but also those of the town’s inhabitants, people she has known all her life. It is this portrayal of a small community rocked and split apart by tragedy where Henry-Jones’ real talent shone through for me, perfectly capturing the dynamics of people touched by trauma and death. Having lived through a real-live natural disaster myself in the past, some of the things she describes hit very close to home. There were those people who pulled together, and those who fled. People who exploited the tragedy for their own gain, and those who just quietly got on with things, helped out where needed, never craving the spotlight. The initial euphoria of having survived, quickly replaced by the reality of the devastation surrounding them. And the need to find a scapegoat for the pain, the suffering – lashing out at each other in blind fury, all previous allegiances forgotten in the aftermath of the tragedy. Each one of Henry-Jones’ characters is well drawn and true-to-life, their emotions raw, honest and laid bare for everyone to see.
As Annie returns to her old home, we get to know her through flashbacks to her childhood, growing up with a teenage mother and a grandmother who was very much the head of the household, Annie’s uncle the only male figure in her life. There is a nostalgia in Annie’s voice that goes deeper than just dealing with the trauma – it speaks of displacement, of loss of place, of innocence, of home. Still drawn to the hills that featured so strongly in her life, Annie’s city life is a mere front, one that she can no longer maintain.
“Each time she comes back the knows fewer people, fewer cars, fewer trees. Each time she comes back it feels less like home and makes her feel stragely helpless. She wants to go home, but she no longer knows how to find it.”
I also loved Pip, the small girl whose inability to express her trauma into words makes her act out, lash out in anger and fear. It is only with her equally traumatised grandmother that Pip learns to confront her fears, step by little step, to make real healing possible.
Ache is a beautiful tale of trauma, loss and redemption. Like a phoenix rising out of the ashes, our characters need to be stripped completely raw to be able to move on. A rebirth of a kind, a healing, a moving on. In the small steps Henry-Jones’ characters take towards rebuilding their lives, there is a message of hope, of inner peace, of growth. Beautifully written, this is a nostalgic and somewhat dreamy read which deeply touched my heart. Very highly recommended.
Thank you to Netgalley and HarperCollins Publishers Australia for the free electronic copy of this novel and for giving me the opportunity to provide an honest review.
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October 28, 2017
There’s a lot to love about this new release by Eliza Henry-Jones and nothing at all to dislike. Once again, we reap the benefit of Eliza’s experience and expertise in the areas of grief, loss and trauma. In Ache, we bear witness to a community in crisis, struggling one year on in the aftermath of a devastating bushfire. Lives were lost, animals and humans, and many were left with nothing. Recovery is being hampered by interest from a television crew intent on mining the trauma for ratings. People are angry, hurting, and resentful of interlopers.
One of the things Eliza has done best with Ache is way she’s peeled back the layers of human facade to expose all that lies beneath. Guilt and grief are firmly interlocked for most of the characters within Ache. For some, this results in self-destruction; for others, this spurs on revenge. Humans can be really shitty towards each other when driven by guilt and fear; there are times within Ache that I shuddered at the way people were treating each other, yet instinctively recognised it as actions fuelled by brokenness.
Above all, Ache is about healing. About gathering time and space enough to breathe out your guilt and fear as a way of moving forward through your grief. Little Pip is a special character, almost like a wild animal at the beginning of the story, her transformation through healing apparent as the novel progresses. Luna was my other love; I can’t go past a story that has a healing horse and Luna was a very intuitive and special horse who played an integral role in Annie’s recovery. Alongside grief and loss, motherhood is examined through the generations of Annie’s family, highlighting how sometimes a traumatic event results in a resurfacing of other feelings long repressed and left undone.
Deeply insightful and astoundingly honest, Ache will take you on a journey into the dark rivers of the human heart, and leave you feeling somewhat shattered and hopeful at the same time.
Ache is book 65 in my 2017 Australian Women Writers Challenge.
One of the things Eliza has done best with Ache is way she’s peeled back the layers of human facade to expose all that lies beneath. Guilt and grief are firmly interlocked for most of the characters within Ache. For some, this results in self-destruction; for others, this spurs on revenge. Humans can be really shitty towards each other when driven by guilt and fear; there are times within Ache that I shuddered at the way people were treating each other, yet instinctively recognised it as actions fuelled by brokenness.
Above all, Ache is about healing. About gathering time and space enough to breathe out your guilt and fear as a way of moving forward through your grief. Little Pip is a special character, almost like a wild animal at the beginning of the story, her transformation through healing apparent as the novel progresses. Luna was my other love; I can’t go past a story that has a healing horse and Luna was a very intuitive and special horse who played an integral role in Annie’s recovery. Alongside grief and loss, motherhood is examined through the generations of Annie’s family, highlighting how sometimes a traumatic event results in a resurfacing of other feelings long repressed and left undone.
Deeply insightful and astoundingly honest, Ache will take you on a journey into the dark rivers of the human heart, and leave you feeling somewhat shattered and hopeful at the same time.
Ache is book 65 in my 2017 Australian Women Writers Challenge.
June 24, 2017
‘Annie has never been the sort of person to have nightmares. But since the fires on the mountain, her dreams have changed.’
A bushfire twelve months ago has ripped Annie’s world apart. Her grandmother Gladys is dead, her daughter Pippa is traumatised, and her mother Susan’s home was half destroyed. Although Annie, her husband Tom and Pippa live in the city, she’s never really settled there. The mountain is her home, and after her uncle Len calls her, she takes Pippa back to Quilly for an extended visit. The pressure of work means that Tom can’t join them, and he’s frustrated that Annie hasn’t thought this through.
‘It’s too easy to forget how good it feels to have purpose.’
Back in Quilly, we meet Annie’s eccentric mother Susan, her uncle Len and his wife Rose. Gradually, we learn more about Annie’s life on the mountain, her relationship with Gladys, and the fire that has devastated the lives of so many. And Pippa, so traumatised by the fire, starts to open up to her grandmother and find her way gradually through her own trauma.
It took me a while to adjust to the rhythm of this novel. Ms Henry-Jones tells the story gradually, revealing pieces of information about people and events. There are several finely drawn characters, each dealing with the consequences of the bushfire the best they can. Some within the community see Annie as an interloper, and this undermines her sense of belonging. Can individuals within the community move on? Can Tom and Annie’s marriage survive this separation?
For me, this novel captures some of the trauma of catastrophe, as well as some of the issues individuals and communities need to deal with as a consequence. The devastation is clear, the grief understandable. There’s hope, as well, for the future – for the land and for at least some of the characters.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
A bushfire twelve months ago has ripped Annie’s world apart. Her grandmother Gladys is dead, her daughter Pippa is traumatised, and her mother Susan’s home was half destroyed. Although Annie, her husband Tom and Pippa live in the city, she’s never really settled there. The mountain is her home, and after her uncle Len calls her, she takes Pippa back to Quilly for an extended visit. The pressure of work means that Tom can’t join them, and he’s frustrated that Annie hasn’t thought this through.
‘It’s too easy to forget how good it feels to have purpose.’
Back in Quilly, we meet Annie’s eccentric mother Susan, her uncle Len and his wife Rose. Gradually, we learn more about Annie’s life on the mountain, her relationship with Gladys, and the fire that has devastated the lives of so many. And Pippa, so traumatised by the fire, starts to open up to her grandmother and find her way gradually through her own trauma.
It took me a while to adjust to the rhythm of this novel. Ms Henry-Jones tells the story gradually, revealing pieces of information about people and events. There are several finely drawn characters, each dealing with the consequences of the bushfire the best they can. Some within the community see Annie as an interloper, and this undermines her sense of belonging. Can individuals within the community move on? Can Tom and Annie’s marriage survive this separation?
For me, this novel captures some of the trauma of catastrophe, as well as some of the issues individuals and communities need to deal with as a consequence. The devastation is clear, the grief understandable. There’s hope, as well, for the future – for the land and for at least some of the characters.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
June 27, 2017
I wanted to like this more but for me it was a bit of a slog. Beautiful writing but maybe I just wasn't in the mood for a storyline with so much heartbreak and gloom.
January 15, 2018
loved it ..great read ..
very Australia..
storyline very sweet and deep at times ..sad and true showing of the hateful side if human nature also..
very Australia..
storyline very sweet and deep at times ..sad and true showing of the hateful side if human nature also..
October 16, 2017
A beautiful, well-constructed novel which explores grief and human connection in the aftermath of trauma. It absorbed me for a few days. Recommended.
June 18, 2018
Ache by Eliza Henry-Jones is an Australian novel that accurately depicts the dialogue and country lifestyle in a small town in a way that often reminded me of a Tim Winton novel. Set one year after a bushfire devastated the small mountain community, Ache is about family, community, grief and recovery. The regeneration and recovery of the environment and wildlife is just as important as that of individual community members. Readers will also enjoy the way in which main character Annie's vocation as a vet is incorporated in the story.
I loved the setting of the novel, the juxtaposition of country and city and the individual growth and development of the main characters, however, being a primarily character-driven novel it did leave me wanting a little more from the plot.
Eliza Henry-Jones is a talented and accomplished writer living in the Yarra Valley in Victoria and with a new YA novel out this year called P is for Pearl, has certainly made her mark.
I recommend Ache for any reader wanting to discover an uplifting and uniquely Australian novel and explore life in a rural community recovering from a trauma.
* Copy courtesy of HarperCollins Australia *
I loved the setting of the novel, the juxtaposition of country and city and the individual growth and development of the main characters, however, being a primarily character-driven novel it did leave me wanting a little more from the plot.
Eliza Henry-Jones is a talented and accomplished writer living in the Yarra Valley in Victoria and with a new YA novel out this year called P is for Pearl, has certainly made her mark.
I recommend Ache for any reader wanting to discover an uplifting and uniquely Australian novel and explore life in a rural community recovering from a trauma.
* Copy courtesy of HarperCollins Australia *
November 23, 2017
4.5*** wow, this book was an extraordinarily emotional journey. At the end I felt the need to sit and take a deep breath. The third person narrative took a bit of getting used to, but after a couple of chapters the pages turned themselves and I couldn't stop reading. The characters were all very different and every interesting with their own issues and quirks and you never knew what might be said or what might happen next. Dealing with the aftermath of an event like the catastrophic fire that destroyed their town is something I hope never to experience but Eliza Henry-Jones dealt with it really well. A really great read.
April 3, 2017
A great novel about the bush, its pace and the relationships between the people that live there. The author is very generous and non-judgmental with her characters, and realistically describes how each person responds to the devastations of a bushfire (and life's regrets) and the aftermath. 4.5 stars
July 13, 2017
Such a powerful book full of conflicting emotions of both fear & love for the place you live in.
January 14, 2018
I heard lots of buzz about this book and it was all well deserved. A beautifully written exploration of the aftermath and regrowth of an Australian bushfire.
September 13, 2017
Sigh. Just beautiful. I'm a stoic reader but this made me cry on the train. Full review to come
October 4, 2017
‘Ache’ is Eliza Henry Jones’s 2nd novel and it deals with the trauma facing a family and a community in rural Australia as a result of a devastating bushfire. The story centres on Annie and her 6 year old daughter Pip who narrowly escaped the bushfire which killed Annie’s grandmother. They fled the mountain and now live in the city with Tom, Annie’s husband and Pip’s father.
A year later when Annie’s uncle Len puts out a call for help, Annie and Pip return to the mountain and to her mother Susan and Annie’s grandmother’s half destroyed house.
The novel explores the harsh reality of a community wracked by loss, grief, anger and vengeance and how slowly a process towards recovery becomes possible.
It’s a gut wrenching but incredibly beautifully written novel with some exquisite language.
“The mountains had always been quiet, but it was like the unimaginable noise of the fires had sucked all sound from the mountain along with everything green. There was no sound of clattering leaves in the wind now. There were no birds. No sigh of grass’.
A year later when Annie’s uncle Len puts out a call for help, Annie and Pip return to the mountain and to her mother Susan and Annie’s grandmother’s half destroyed house.
The novel explores the harsh reality of a community wracked by loss, grief, anger and vengeance and how slowly a process towards recovery becomes possible.
It’s a gut wrenching but incredibly beautifully written novel with some exquisite language.
“The mountains had always been quiet, but it was like the unimaginable noise of the fires had sucked all sound from the mountain along with everything green. There was no sound of clattering leaves in the wind now. There were no birds. No sigh of grass’.
January 1, 2021
Ache will make you feel every emotion under the sun. A must read for everyone!
Ache is set one year after a bushfire destroyed Annie’s family and Australian mountain home. Annie is still trying to pick up the pieces of her life after riding her horse through the fires to save her child only to lose her beloved Grandmother and unwillingly become the face of the fires after her photo became splashed all over the media. Annie is trying to make her marriage work with her husband, Tom, and heal her traumatised daughter, Pip, in their home in the city. She decides to head home to the mountain where her family and small town friends are still battling to recover from the devastation of the fires.
This fire in this story is fictional but I think most Australians will be able to relate to the trauma of a small town dealing with the aftermath of a devastating bushfire. I have been lucky to be relatively untouched by bushfires but I still understand the fear of fire (or flood!) and can imagine the trauma of being right in the middle of it all and how difficult it must be to pick up the pieces of your life after a fire sweeps through and destroys your entire life. Bless everybody experiencing something similar right now.
Eliza Henry Jones has studied English, psychology and grief, loss and trauma counselling and completed a thesis exploring bushfire trauma in fiction. She has crafted a beautifully written and emotional novel that deals with a wide range of themes with grace and ease. Now I understand why everyone I know has raved about this book and am so happy to add my rave review to the list!
Ache is set one year after a bushfire destroyed Annie’s family and Australian mountain home. Annie is still trying to pick up the pieces of her life after riding her horse through the fires to save her child only to lose her beloved Grandmother and unwillingly become the face of the fires after her photo became splashed all over the media. Annie is trying to make her marriage work with her husband, Tom, and heal her traumatised daughter, Pip, in their home in the city. She decides to head home to the mountain where her family and small town friends are still battling to recover from the devastation of the fires.
This fire in this story is fictional but I think most Australians will be able to relate to the trauma of a small town dealing with the aftermath of a devastating bushfire. I have been lucky to be relatively untouched by bushfires but I still understand the fear of fire (or flood!) and can imagine the trauma of being right in the middle of it all and how difficult it must be to pick up the pieces of your life after a fire sweeps through and destroys your entire life. Bless everybody experiencing something similar right now.
Eliza Henry Jones has studied English, psychology and grief, loss and trauma counselling and completed a thesis exploring bushfire trauma in fiction. She has crafted a beautifully written and emotional novel that deals with a wide range of themes with grace and ease. Now I understand why everyone I know has raved about this book and am so happy to add my rave review to the list!
November 13, 2017
Maybe this book should be called “Ash” as the book’s focus is on the embers of a town and it’s people trying to get on with life after a massive bushfire destroyed many properties and killed a number of residents.
Annie returns to the town to help her mother who is a bit different (I suspect she was the sanest of all the characters). In the process she helps her uncle, her ex-boyfriend, her daughter, her husband and herself.
There is palpable realism in the characters, the individual circumstances they find themselves in and how they are coping.
One of the best Australian books I have read this year.
Annie returns to the town to help her mother who is a bit different (I suspect she was the sanest of all the characters). In the process she helps her uncle, her ex-boyfriend, her daughter, her husband and herself.
There is palpable realism in the characters, the individual circumstances they find themselves in and how they are coping.
One of the best Australian books I have read this year.
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