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To Become a Whale
To Become a Whale tells the story of 13-year-old Sam Keogh, whose mother has died. Sam has to learn how to live with his silent, hitherto absent father, who decides to make a man out of his son by taking him to work at Tangalooma, then the largest whaling station in the southern hemisphere. What follows is the devastatingly beautiful story of a gentle boy trying to make sense of the terrible reality of whaling and the cruelty and alienation of his new world, the world of men.
Set around Moreton Island and Noosa in 1961, To Become a Whale is an extraordinarily vivid and haunting novel that reads like an instant classic of Australian literature. There are echoes of Craig Silvey, Favel Parrett, Tim Winton and Randolph Stow in this moving, transformative and very Australian novel.
'Hobson takes us to the depths of cruelty to show us life. A boy tries to be a man, a man tries to be a father, and both struggle to navigate what it means to be men. A great study in masculinity.'
WILLY VLAUTIN, author of Lean on Pete and The Free
'A powerful tale of fathers and sons and all that can't be spoken between them. The writing is honest, rich and clean, and it made me feel so much. Too many writers fuss things up, but Ben tells it simply, which is so affecting.'
SOFIE LAGUNA, author of Miles Franklin-winning The Eye of the Sheep
Set around Moreton Island and Noosa in 1961, To Become a Whale is an extraordinarily vivid and haunting novel that reads like an instant classic of Australian literature. There are echoes of Craig Silvey, Favel Parrett, Tim Winton and Randolph Stow in this moving, transformative and very Australian novel.
'Hobson takes us to the depths of cruelty to show us life. A boy tries to be a man, a man tries to be a father, and both struggle to navigate what it means to be men. A great study in masculinity.'
WILLY VLAUTIN, author of Lean on Pete and The Free
'A powerful tale of fathers and sons and all that can't be spoken between them. The writing is honest, rich and clean, and it made me feel so much. Too many writers fuss things up, but Ben tells it simply, which is so affecting.'
SOFIE LAGUNA, author of Miles Franklin-winning The Eye of the Sheep
404 pages, Paperback
First published May 24, 2017
7 people are currently reading
388 people want to read
About the author
Ben Hobson
3 books81 followersBen Hobson lives in Brisbane and is entirely keen on his wife, Lena, and their two small boys, Charlie and Henry. He also has a superb pooch named Lincoln, which Charlie forced him to write about in his biography. He currently teaches English and Music at a Queensland High School, and has a keen interest in philosophy, theology, writing and reading.
Born in Gippsland, Victoria, Ben grew up surrounded by the sights and smells of the country. His early interest in creativity saw him pursue music both academically and artistically, graduating from QUT in 2011 with a degree, and travelling the country with Sounds Like Chicken, a ska/rock/hardcore hybrid.
In 2014 his novella, If the Saddle Breaks My Spine, was shortlisted for the Viva La Novella prize, run by Seizureonline. To Become a Whale, his debut novel, was released in June 2017, by Allen & Unwin. His second novel, Snake Island, was released in August 2019.
Born in Gippsland, Victoria, Ben grew up surrounded by the sights and smells of the country. His early interest in creativity saw him pursue music both academically and artistically, graduating from QUT in 2011 with a degree, and travelling the country with Sounds Like Chicken, a ska/rock/hardcore hybrid.
In 2014 his novella, If the Saddle Breaks My Spine, was shortlisted for the Viva La Novella prize, run by Seizureonline. To Become a Whale, his debut novel, was released in June 2017, by Allen & Unwin. His second novel, Snake Island, was released in August 2019.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 86 reviews
December 14, 2017
Sam Keoghan is only thirteen years old when his mother passes away. Sam's father, Walter works at the Tangalooma whaling station on Moreton Island. Walter spends a great deal of time away working, but he now has Sam to look after now that his wife was no longer there to take care of him.
Sam misses his mother terribly and is feeling very helpless and lonely without her. He attempts to be strong in front of his father, but he can't stop the tears welling up in his eyes. Walter decides it's time to toughen up his son, so they bundle up a few things and head for the whaling station. Along the way Walter buys Sam a puppy who he names Albert and the duo form a special bond straight away. Sam is about to have a whole different life on the whaling station. Throughout the journey Sam will discover and hear things that a boy of his age should not have to experience but in time will this turn Sam from a boy into a man like Walter intended it to do? And will Walter learn to be a father that Sam will be proud of?
What a beautiful and captivating story this was. I loved this book from start to finish. Sam was my favorite character as I simply wanted to give him a hug and tell him everything would be alright. And of course Albert was another favorite seeing as I love dogs. Aussie author Ben Hobson has written a really delightful book and I look forward to seeing what he writes next. Highly recommended.
Sam misses his mother terribly and is feeling very helpless and lonely without her. He attempts to be strong in front of his father, but he can't stop the tears welling up in his eyes. Walter decides it's time to toughen up his son, so they bundle up a few things and head for the whaling station. Along the way Walter buys Sam a puppy who he names Albert and the duo form a special bond straight away. Sam is about to have a whole different life on the whaling station. Throughout the journey Sam will discover and hear things that a boy of his age should not have to experience but in time will this turn Sam from a boy into a man like Walter intended it to do? And will Walter learn to be a father that Sam will be proud of?
What a beautiful and captivating story this was. I loved this book from start to finish. Sam was my favorite character as I simply wanted to give him a hug and tell him everything would be alright. And of course Albert was another favorite seeing as I love dogs. Aussie author Ben Hobson has written a really delightful book and I look forward to seeing what he writes next. Highly recommended.
April 17, 2018
This is another Australian novel with a kid/teenager protagonist that I didn't enjoy as much as everyone seemed to.
Ben Hobson's debut is a coming of age novel about Sam Keogh, thirteen, who recently lost his kind and loving mother. Therefore, his gruff, temperamental father, a Vietnam war veteran, has to look after him.
The novel is set in 1961, Queensland, Australia. A big chunk of the novel takes place on Tangalooma Whaling Station. Sam's father works there for many months of the year, butchering the whales. It's hard work, unrelenting, no days off. He takes Sam with him, so he can learn a skill, "to make a man" out of him. Because it was 1961, I was able to let slide a few more things that I normally wouldn't, such as the presence of a thirteen-year-old boy around knives and other perilous endeavours, without any training, safety gear etc. It advanced the narrative. Descriptions of whale butchering are aplenty. They didn't affect me in a visceral way, others may find them more confronting.
I expected to like this novel much more, especially since its main theme - what makes a "real man" - is very contemporary. It was its delivery that didn't work for me. Unlike other similar novels, this is a third person narrative from Sam's perspective. I usually enjoy third-person narratives, in this case, though, I was kept at a distance. Also, there was too much telling, overanalysing of feelings and overexplaining. I found some of the statements unbelievable and also, some of them felt too contemporary, too modern. Basically, what I'm trying to say not very eloquently, I could see the puppets strings, so I couldn't get fully immersed in the story.
I am the outlier on this one, so take my review with a grain of salt.
This novel will go towards the Australian Author Challenge 2018 on www.bookloverbookreviews.com
Ben Hobson's debut is a coming of age novel about Sam Keogh, thirteen, who recently lost his kind and loving mother. Therefore, his gruff, temperamental father, a Vietnam war veteran, has to look after him.
The novel is set in 1961, Queensland, Australia. A big chunk of the novel takes place on Tangalooma Whaling Station. Sam's father works there for many months of the year, butchering the whales. It's hard work, unrelenting, no days off. He takes Sam with him, so he can learn a skill, "to make a man" out of him. Because it was 1961, I was able to let slide a few more things that I normally wouldn't, such as the presence of a thirteen-year-old boy around knives and other perilous endeavours, without any training, safety gear etc. It advanced the narrative. Descriptions of whale butchering are aplenty. They didn't affect me in a visceral way, others may find them more confronting.
I expected to like this novel much more, especially since its main theme - what makes a "real man" - is very contemporary. It was its delivery that didn't work for me. Unlike other similar novels, this is a third person narrative from Sam's perspective. I usually enjoy third-person narratives, in this case, though, I was kept at a distance. Also, there was too much telling, overanalysing of feelings and overexplaining. I found some of the statements unbelievable and also, some of them felt too contemporary, too modern. Basically, what I'm trying to say not very eloquently, I could see the puppets strings, so I couldn't get fully immersed in the story.
I am the outlier on this one, so take my review with a grain of salt.
This novel will go towards the Australian Author Challenge 2018 on www.bookloverbookreviews.com
September 21, 2017
*https://mrsbbookreviews.wordpress.com
Brisbane based English and Music Teacher Ben Hobson makes a splash on the Australian writing scene with his debut novel, To Become a Whale. An authentically written tale, To Become a Whale is an incredible journey in the process of grief and the difficult territory a thirteen year old boy on the cusp of masculinity must negotiate.
To Become a Whale opens at a sad and defining point in 13-year-old Sam Keogh’s life. Sam’s mother has just died of an undisclosed illness. While Sam or ‘boy’ as he is often referred to in the novel, grapples with his grief, his silent and largely absent father becomes the sole figure Sam must rely on. Their relationship is a strained and tenuous one. In attempting to deal with his own grief and now bearing the responsibility for the care of his son, Walter, Sam’s father, decides to strengthen his son’s spirit in the only way he knows how, through back-breaking hard work. This leads father and son to work at Tangalooma and a huge whaling station. Here, this sensitive teenager must negotiate his feelings towards the work his father and colleagues are doing at the whaling station, forcing him to grown up quickly. At its core, To Become a Whale is the story of a young boy learning the ways of men in an adult world, while dealing with the loss of a parent.
To Become a Whale first caught my eye a couple of months ago, when I read an in-depth Q & A with the author, Ben Hobson. It gave me a solid grounding for what I might expect to read when I was able to devote the time to this moving Australian novel. I had an early indication from the Q & A and a number of reviews I had already read on this novel that I was going to appreciate it, a lot. What I didn’t expect was to be completely affected by this novel and the main protagonist, Sam Keogh.
Although the opening was a sad start to this beautifully written novel, the scene where young Sam Keogh must attend the funeral and say goodbye to his beloved mother, was an integral part to the story. This pivotal event marks the turning point of the events that occur throughout the story. It also signals the start of the grieving process for Sam and his father, which continues throughout the novel. Hobson handles this aspect of the novel with insight and sensitivity. I often wanted to shake some sense into Sam’s frustrating father, Walter. Despite my frustration with Walter, I believe Hobson handles the complex nature of family and adult relationships, with a depth of common understanding.
As an adult writer, I would imagine it would be difficult to get inside the voice of a 13-year-old boy and refine this voice in such a way that it appears authentic to the reader. Hobson seems at ease in filling the boots of his young protagonist. In fact, I will say he nails it completely. Hobson delivers Sam’s unique voice in a way that the innocence, deep hurt, confusion and growth of his character becomes evident to the reader. I loved Sam’s narration and world view, it also seemed to capture the nostalgia of the era in which the novel is set. Walter, or ‘father’, as he is referred to in much of the novel, is a well defined character. He is the ideal reflection of the typical Australian bloke in the 1950’s/60’s era. Hobson excels in bringing us the character of Walter so vividly to the pages of his novel.
A significant aspect of To Become a Whale and the overarching theme that primarily encouraged me to want to select this book to read was the whaling background. Hobson’s stance on the whaling section of this novel is delivered with a careful balance between reality and brutality. Through Hobson’s measured prose, we can glean much about the whaling industry, from the processes to the grinding work. Deeply informing, the whaling segments novel were utterly compelling. It is hard not to read these parts of narrative without wanting to shed a tear or two. It did give me a fascinating insight into the largest whaling station in the southern hemisphere and one I did not know anything about prior to reading this novel. My knowledge on whaling only extends to a local whaling station that is now a museum in Albany, in the far south of Western Australia which I visited some years ago. What struck me the most about the whaling based passages in this particular story was the writing, which was simple, yet honest and full of dense feeling. This style of writing also extends to the whole of the novel.
Hobson chooses to close To Become a Whale off in a deeply meaningful and poignant way. It was in keeping with the overall tone of the novel and I loved it. The connection between the human and the animal world is emphasised at the closing point in the novel. Hobson handles this aspect with a refined sense of poise, which I admired greatly.
To Become a Whale is a resonating piece of new Australian literature. If Ben Hobson’s first novel is anything to go by, Hobson clearly has a bright and illustrious future ahead of him.
Brisbane based English and Music Teacher Ben Hobson makes a splash on the Australian writing scene with his debut novel, To Become a Whale. An authentically written tale, To Become a Whale is an incredible journey in the process of grief and the difficult territory a thirteen year old boy on the cusp of masculinity must negotiate.
To Become a Whale opens at a sad and defining point in 13-year-old Sam Keogh’s life. Sam’s mother has just died of an undisclosed illness. While Sam or ‘boy’ as he is often referred to in the novel, grapples with his grief, his silent and largely absent father becomes the sole figure Sam must rely on. Their relationship is a strained and tenuous one. In attempting to deal with his own grief and now bearing the responsibility for the care of his son, Walter, Sam’s father, decides to strengthen his son’s spirit in the only way he knows how, through back-breaking hard work. This leads father and son to work at Tangalooma and a huge whaling station. Here, this sensitive teenager must negotiate his feelings towards the work his father and colleagues are doing at the whaling station, forcing him to grown up quickly. At its core, To Become a Whale is the story of a young boy learning the ways of men in an adult world, while dealing with the loss of a parent.
To Become a Whale first caught my eye a couple of months ago, when I read an in-depth Q & A with the author, Ben Hobson. It gave me a solid grounding for what I might expect to read when I was able to devote the time to this moving Australian novel. I had an early indication from the Q & A and a number of reviews I had already read on this novel that I was going to appreciate it, a lot. What I didn’t expect was to be completely affected by this novel and the main protagonist, Sam Keogh.
Although the opening was a sad start to this beautifully written novel, the scene where young Sam Keogh must attend the funeral and say goodbye to his beloved mother, was an integral part to the story. This pivotal event marks the turning point of the events that occur throughout the story. It also signals the start of the grieving process for Sam and his father, which continues throughout the novel. Hobson handles this aspect of the novel with insight and sensitivity. I often wanted to shake some sense into Sam’s frustrating father, Walter. Despite my frustration with Walter, I believe Hobson handles the complex nature of family and adult relationships, with a depth of common understanding.
As an adult writer, I would imagine it would be difficult to get inside the voice of a 13-year-old boy and refine this voice in such a way that it appears authentic to the reader. Hobson seems at ease in filling the boots of his young protagonist. In fact, I will say he nails it completely. Hobson delivers Sam’s unique voice in a way that the innocence, deep hurt, confusion and growth of his character becomes evident to the reader. I loved Sam’s narration and world view, it also seemed to capture the nostalgia of the era in which the novel is set. Walter, or ‘father’, as he is referred to in much of the novel, is a well defined character. He is the ideal reflection of the typical Australian bloke in the 1950’s/60’s era. Hobson excels in bringing us the character of Walter so vividly to the pages of his novel.
A significant aspect of To Become a Whale and the overarching theme that primarily encouraged me to want to select this book to read was the whaling background. Hobson’s stance on the whaling section of this novel is delivered with a careful balance between reality and brutality. Through Hobson’s measured prose, we can glean much about the whaling industry, from the processes to the grinding work. Deeply informing, the whaling segments novel were utterly compelling. It is hard not to read these parts of narrative without wanting to shed a tear or two. It did give me a fascinating insight into the largest whaling station in the southern hemisphere and one I did not know anything about prior to reading this novel. My knowledge on whaling only extends to a local whaling station that is now a museum in Albany, in the far south of Western Australia which I visited some years ago. What struck me the most about the whaling based passages in this particular story was the writing, which was simple, yet honest and full of dense feeling. This style of writing also extends to the whole of the novel.
Hobson chooses to close To Become a Whale off in a deeply meaningful and poignant way. It was in keeping with the overall tone of the novel and I loved it. The connection between the human and the animal world is emphasised at the closing point in the novel. Hobson handles this aspect with a refined sense of poise, which I admired greatly.
To Become a Whale is a resonating piece of new Australian literature. If Ben Hobson’s first novel is anything to go by, Hobson clearly has a bright and illustrious future ahead of him.
June 30, 2017
Once again, I have been treated to learning about a slice of Australian history through the reading of superb fiction. Ben Hobson’s quality debut, To Become a Whale, is surely destined become an Australian classic, not only for its human element, but for its historical retelling of life on a whaling station in Australia during the 1960s, through the eyes of a 13 year old boy.
The whaling station, Tangalooma, situated on Moreton Island, is a place I knew nothing about prior to reading this novel, not even that it had existed. I didn’t find the descriptions of the whaling as graphic and/or confronting as some readers have, but I grew up on a dairy farm where we killed our own beasts, a process I was involved in from start to finish at a very young age, and I imagine this has tempered my view somewhat. I did find it sad, to reflect on the practice of whaling, but this is history, it happened, it doesn’t happen anymore (here in Australia), and we have, for the most part, learnt from it. But the daily operations on Tangalooma were quite fascinating to me; terribly hard work that only the sternest of men could have endured season by season. It’s this type of ‘everyday history’ that I find fascinating and in the retelling of it, Ben has excelled.
To Become a Whale is just as much a tale of discovery and coming of age for Walter as it was for Sam. Walter had to make this transition from absent father to single parent and he was in no way ready for that. So he tried to absorb Sam into his single man’s life, failing to see the harm he was doing to his son. Sam was far too young and possessed far too much empathy to have been exposed to the adult environment which existed at Tangalooma. And even before this, with his father taking him out bush immediately after his mother’s funeral; this was more about Walter and his own grief and there was no consideration at any stage for Sam and the stability that he needed. Yet, just as I was filled with anger towards Walter at different stages throughout the novel, I was also overcome with sympathy. He was Sam’s father, and I think he felt that, but his worklife decisions up until this point had prevented him from ever engaging fully within that role. I sensed within Walter the desire to do right by Sam, he just didn’t have a clue how to go about that, which is what roused my sympathies. He loved Sam deeply, but couldn’t project it, much less demonstrate it, so Sam was left feeling abandoned and insignificant, the effects of this on him magnified by the loss of his mother and his unchecked grief.
“It wasn’t just that she was gone, it was that he was never going to be her son again, he would share no new experiences or moments with her.”
This was such a profound thought for Sam, so pivotal within his grief and it affected me deeply, as a mother of two sons, aged 11 and 13.
Indeed, I found this novel hard to read without this colouring my view. I wanted to reach into the pages and pull Sam out, shake Walter and scream at him: “He’s just a boy!” Having this story articulated through Sam’s eyes was a powerful choice, strengthened by the narrative being related by ‘the boy’. What at first seemed impersonal proved to be deeply telling and conveyed so much with so little. Every word within To Become a Whale was essential, a further stitch in the tapestry of Sam’s future life. Even descriptions of the seemingly mundane came back later, through other experiences, so that as you progressed throughout the novel you came to fully appreciate the story Ben Hobson had set out to tell right from the very beginning. I feel that the language and style of this novel makes it an ideal choice for inclusion within the Senior English curriculum, particularly within Queensland schools seeing as the novel is set in Queensland itself. Despite being an adult novel, it’s highly accessible and we need more texts that can be enjoyed by boys. I’m not trying to indicate that girls would not appreciate To Become a Whale, but I feel this is a particularly powerful novel for older boys that will resonate with them on a level current texts often don’t.
Overall, To Become a Whale is a truly devastating tale of grief unanswered. Yet it’s also a beautiful story about a boy realising his true potential for himself. In many ways, Sam’s ocean journey towards the end of the novel mirrored his greater journey through his grief. He had to let go and yield to the elements before he could be found. Of course, the profundity of his meeting with a whale at this pivotal time is perhaps one of the most beautiful scenes I’ve read within a novel for a very long time. It was not without a tear that I made it through this part.
As is my custom, I like to pick out favourite lines from the novels I enjoy. In this instance, To Become a Whale contains one of the truest lines I’ve ever read within a novel, a line that speaks to me intimately. It is a reflection made by Sam on the state of his parent’s marriage.
“The marriage was sturdier without the people.”
Ben Hobson, you are a literary genius. You have enriched my life for these past couple of days of reading and I thank you for it.
Thanks is also extended to the Queensland Writers Centre along with Allen and Unwin for providing me with a copy of To Become a Whale for review.
The whaling station, Tangalooma, situated on Moreton Island, is a place I knew nothing about prior to reading this novel, not even that it had existed. I didn’t find the descriptions of the whaling as graphic and/or confronting as some readers have, but I grew up on a dairy farm where we killed our own beasts, a process I was involved in from start to finish at a very young age, and I imagine this has tempered my view somewhat. I did find it sad, to reflect on the practice of whaling, but this is history, it happened, it doesn’t happen anymore (here in Australia), and we have, for the most part, learnt from it. But the daily operations on Tangalooma were quite fascinating to me; terribly hard work that only the sternest of men could have endured season by season. It’s this type of ‘everyday history’ that I find fascinating and in the retelling of it, Ben has excelled.
To Become a Whale is just as much a tale of discovery and coming of age for Walter as it was for Sam. Walter had to make this transition from absent father to single parent and he was in no way ready for that. So he tried to absorb Sam into his single man’s life, failing to see the harm he was doing to his son. Sam was far too young and possessed far too much empathy to have been exposed to the adult environment which existed at Tangalooma. And even before this, with his father taking him out bush immediately after his mother’s funeral; this was more about Walter and his own grief and there was no consideration at any stage for Sam and the stability that he needed. Yet, just as I was filled with anger towards Walter at different stages throughout the novel, I was also overcome with sympathy. He was Sam’s father, and I think he felt that, but his worklife decisions up until this point had prevented him from ever engaging fully within that role. I sensed within Walter the desire to do right by Sam, he just didn’t have a clue how to go about that, which is what roused my sympathies. He loved Sam deeply, but couldn’t project it, much less demonstrate it, so Sam was left feeling abandoned and insignificant, the effects of this on him magnified by the loss of his mother and his unchecked grief.
“It wasn’t just that she was gone, it was that he was never going to be her son again, he would share no new experiences or moments with her.”
This was such a profound thought for Sam, so pivotal within his grief and it affected me deeply, as a mother of two sons, aged 11 and 13.
Indeed, I found this novel hard to read without this colouring my view. I wanted to reach into the pages and pull Sam out, shake Walter and scream at him: “He’s just a boy!” Having this story articulated through Sam’s eyes was a powerful choice, strengthened by the narrative being related by ‘the boy’. What at first seemed impersonal proved to be deeply telling and conveyed so much with so little. Every word within To Become a Whale was essential, a further stitch in the tapestry of Sam’s future life. Even descriptions of the seemingly mundane came back later, through other experiences, so that as you progressed throughout the novel you came to fully appreciate the story Ben Hobson had set out to tell right from the very beginning. I feel that the language and style of this novel makes it an ideal choice for inclusion within the Senior English curriculum, particularly within Queensland schools seeing as the novel is set in Queensland itself. Despite being an adult novel, it’s highly accessible and we need more texts that can be enjoyed by boys. I’m not trying to indicate that girls would not appreciate To Become a Whale, but I feel this is a particularly powerful novel for older boys that will resonate with them on a level current texts often don’t.
Overall, To Become a Whale is a truly devastating tale of grief unanswered. Yet it’s also a beautiful story about a boy realising his true potential for himself. In many ways, Sam’s ocean journey towards the end of the novel mirrored his greater journey through his grief. He had to let go and yield to the elements before he could be found. Of course, the profundity of his meeting with a whale at this pivotal time is perhaps one of the most beautiful scenes I’ve read within a novel for a very long time. It was not without a tear that I made it through this part.
As is my custom, I like to pick out favourite lines from the novels I enjoy. In this instance, To Become a Whale contains one of the truest lines I’ve ever read within a novel, a line that speaks to me intimately. It is a reflection made by Sam on the state of his parent’s marriage.
“The marriage was sturdier without the people.”
Ben Hobson, you are a literary genius. You have enriched my life for these past couple of days of reading and I thank you for it.
Thanks is also extended to the Queensland Writers Centre along with Allen and Unwin for providing me with a copy of To Become a Whale for review.
January 13, 2018
To Become a Whale is a well-written, thoughtful Australian tale about a loveable young boy who, thrust into harsh environments, must learn to survive.
Ben has drawn the typical Australian father - son relationship with precision and soul. He has written about life in the wake of great emotional loss, with sincerity.
To Become a Whale is a story that has not shied away from addressing misconceptions about manliness and emotional survival. Ben has written about such topics with a rare empathy which in turn, provides an emotionally rich experience for the reader.
Definitely worth the read. Well done, Ben - a debut novel to be proud of.
Ben has drawn the typical Australian father - son relationship with precision and soul. He has written about life in the wake of great emotional loss, with sincerity.
To Become a Whale is a story that has not shied away from addressing misconceptions about manliness and emotional survival. Ben has written about such topics with a rare empathy which in turn, provides an emotionally rich experience for the reader.
Definitely worth the read. Well done, Ben - a debut novel to be proud of.
July 19, 2017
To label the novel, To Become A Whale a ‘coming of age story’ doesn’t do it justice. It’s so much more than that. Sublimely and sensitively written, this book is an impressive debut for Australian author, Ben Hobson.
Set around the Tangalooma Whaling Station off the North Queensland coast of Australia, it depicts the brutality of the whaling industry through the eyes of Sam, a sensitive thirteen year old who is mature beyond his years. On the cusp of manhood, his mother’s death thrusts him into the care of his father – a physically and emotionally absent man with violent tendencies and a panache for telling lies. The boy captured my heart from the beginning and in the end, despite his many failings, the father won me over too.
The book opens in 1961, with Sam attending his mother’s funeral and immediately the strained relationship between father and son is apparent. During the first night without a mother, Sam sobs, trying to hide the noise from his father. But his father wakes, asks Sam if he’s alright, then adds, ‘you have to stop crying, mate, and get some sleep. Crying doesn’t fix anything.’ In the morning, Sam is taken away from his maternal grandparents and forced to build a temporary shelter on an isolated beach with his father, biding time until the whaling season starts.
I keenly felt the mother’s absence throughout the book, although she was frequently present in Sam’s grief. The characters were so well drawn that I came to care very deeply for them. So many times I wanted to step in and comfort the boy, shielding him from the brutality of the grownup world just a little while longer. I wanted to shake the father and beg him to go easy on his son.
Although the story is centred around death (first Sam’s mother, then countless whales), it is also full of life. Vivid images leap off the page and character insight unfolds naturally. The introduction of a puppy shortly after the mother’s death is inspired – and the boy’s interaction with it throughout the novel reflects changes in his character arc. There are explanations for the father’s behavior – a product of his upbringing, and I suspect, an attitude somewhat typical of the era. However, the boy’s determined nature, and the softer influence from having spent long periods alone with his mother, allow the child to break this hereditary chain.
Whilst the scenes on the whaling station are brutally depicted, I didn’t find them off putting; maybe because they’re seen through the boy’s eyes. The choice of setting allows the boy to be immersed in a male dominated, violent environment at a crucial time in his life. We see him adapt and, eventually, learn to better understand his father, despite the difficult circumstances. In this environment he is able to compare his father’s behavior to that of other men. Sam wants to walk away from the killing of whales, but is buoyed by the sense of purpose amongst the men. He witnesses the men laughing and joking as the whales are dragged up the slipway and wonders if there’s no dignity in death. And he learns that although his father can be violent towards others when provoked, he has a certain respect for the whales, and holds in contempt the men who glorify in killing, purely for the sake of it.
After reading this novel I am even more grateful that whales are now reverred creatures. I have visited the old whaling station in Albany (South Western Australia), a permanent reminder of our whaling past. However, nothing hits home like a story so graphically, yet beautifully told through the eyes of a boy forced to grow up too soon.
The ending holds promise for the father and son’s relationship, and the scene between the boy and the whale was poetic and visually stunning. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book and will be re-reading it soon with my son, who is close to Sam’s age.
(This book is still in my head weeks after finishing it. Bumping it up to 5 stars)
Set around the Tangalooma Whaling Station off the North Queensland coast of Australia, it depicts the brutality of the whaling industry through the eyes of Sam, a sensitive thirteen year old who is mature beyond his years. On the cusp of manhood, his mother’s death thrusts him into the care of his father – a physically and emotionally absent man with violent tendencies and a panache for telling lies. The boy captured my heart from the beginning and in the end, despite his many failings, the father won me over too.
The book opens in 1961, with Sam attending his mother’s funeral and immediately the strained relationship between father and son is apparent. During the first night without a mother, Sam sobs, trying to hide the noise from his father. But his father wakes, asks Sam if he’s alright, then adds, ‘you have to stop crying, mate, and get some sleep. Crying doesn’t fix anything.’ In the morning, Sam is taken away from his maternal grandparents and forced to build a temporary shelter on an isolated beach with his father, biding time until the whaling season starts.
I keenly felt the mother’s absence throughout the book, although she was frequently present in Sam’s grief. The characters were so well drawn that I came to care very deeply for them. So many times I wanted to step in and comfort the boy, shielding him from the brutality of the grownup world just a little while longer. I wanted to shake the father and beg him to go easy on his son.
Although the story is centred around death (first Sam’s mother, then countless whales), it is also full of life. Vivid images leap off the page and character insight unfolds naturally. The introduction of a puppy shortly after the mother’s death is inspired – and the boy’s interaction with it throughout the novel reflects changes in his character arc. There are explanations for the father’s behavior – a product of his upbringing, and I suspect, an attitude somewhat typical of the era. However, the boy’s determined nature, and the softer influence from having spent long periods alone with his mother, allow the child to break this hereditary chain.
Whilst the scenes on the whaling station are brutally depicted, I didn’t find them off putting; maybe because they’re seen through the boy’s eyes. The choice of setting allows the boy to be immersed in a male dominated, violent environment at a crucial time in his life. We see him adapt and, eventually, learn to better understand his father, despite the difficult circumstances. In this environment he is able to compare his father’s behavior to that of other men. Sam wants to walk away from the killing of whales, but is buoyed by the sense of purpose amongst the men. He witnesses the men laughing and joking as the whales are dragged up the slipway and wonders if there’s no dignity in death. And he learns that although his father can be violent towards others when provoked, he has a certain respect for the whales, and holds in contempt the men who glorify in killing, purely for the sake of it.
After reading this novel I am even more grateful that whales are now reverred creatures. I have visited the old whaling station in Albany (South Western Australia), a permanent reminder of our whaling past. However, nothing hits home like a story so graphically, yet beautifully told through the eyes of a boy forced to grow up too soon.
The ending holds promise for the father and son’s relationship, and the scene between the boy and the whale was poetic and visually stunning. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book and will be re-reading it soon with my son, who is close to Sam’s age.
(This book is still in my head weeks after finishing it. Bumping it up to 5 stars)
October 27, 2017
Masculinity, like so many societal constructs, perpetually teeters on the edge of a thousand shaky assumptions.
We may think we know what it is, and what it is not, but the truth is, it's a hazily grouped together set of ideas that when put to the test, often come up wanting.
Just how wanting is impressively and movingly explored in Ben Hobson's masterfully-executed, deeply-affecting debut novel To Become a Whale, which explores what it means to be a man, or at least the concept of it, from various perspectives but most significantly, from the viewpoint of 13-year-old Sam Keogh.
Still mourning the untimely death of his mother when he is whisked off to the whaling station in Tangalooma on Moreton Island in its dying days of production in 1961 (it closes the following year) by his grieving, emotionally-remote, often-absent father, Sam is a young man in freefall.
Nurtured as a kind, sensitive, emotionally self-aware soul by his endlessly-attentive mother, he is shocked to encounter a world where people mask their true feelings, speak of traumatic life events with a gruff sentence or two, and where work is the be-all and end-all of someone's worth.
You could argue it's all part of growing up but given the speed and ferocity of Sam's immersion into the unreconstructed world of early-'60s manhood, where emotions are a liability and self-awareness near-to-none-existent, or at least, it's public expression, you can well understand why he struggles mightily to make sense of it all.
Under any circumstances, this would be an ordeal by existential fire, but in the mire of grief and its world-shaking hellishness where everything you value and love is shaken to the core, it's a well-nigh impossible experience to process.
Regardless of where Sam's dad Walter is coming from, and it's a world largely made up of emotional repression, being "manly" (whatever the hell that is) and doing a good solid day's work (and it turns out some genuine vulnerability, rarely expressed), it's not somewhere Sam is comfortable being, and as he witnesses more and more of the hardcore masculinity around him, he vows again and again to remain true to who he is and who his mother, his only fully-present carer growing up, raised him to be.
That's easier said than done, of course, since he is, after all, a 13-year-old boy, caught between these vows and his desperate need for love and approval from his emotionally-contrary father (and the wider group of men around him), who can be affectionate and understanding one minute and brutishly dismissive, and caustically angry another.
Still processing what it means to be alive, let alone a man, Sam is buffeted by competing demands and positions, embodied in Phil, his father's kind-of friend and fellow whaling station worker, who is at once real and honest, speaking of and demonstrating his love of music and dissatisfaction with his current job and yet complicit in upholding a version of masculinity that is aloof, actions-oriented and rough-and-tumble in a way Sam simply can't relate to.
Hobson manages, with a deftness and thoughtfulness that will have you nodding in recognition page after page, to examine with an emotionally-accessible profundity the complexity of masculinity, particularly as it relates to the fraught world of father-son relations, especially those being tested in the crucible of pain and loss.
It's his ability to balance this examination of a state of humanity that, like pretty much everything about being a person, has no real, firm, set answer - it's all things to everyone essentially - while still telling the harrowingly real story of Sam and his unwilling immersion into a terrifying new world that grants To Become a Whale so much of its exquisitely-expressed emotional resonance.
As a gay man who grew up being virulently teased for not meeting what were presented as comprehensively-agreed upon notions of masculinity, and who felt himself buffeted at every turn by a world he didn't understand nor really wanted to be a part of, I connected deeply with Sam's beautifully-wrought character.
His turmoil, his need for longing and yet equally powerful desire to stay true to himself and his mother's notion's of humanity, struck a deep chord, especially as it is given powerful, impressively-articulate voice by Hobson.
To Become a Whale is that rare beast - a novel with some raw, artfully-expressed notions on masculinity, a debate that continues to this day - Hobson's writing is sublime, beautiful and real all at once, as much poetic as it is insightful - and the immensely-personal, moving story of one young man's struggle to define what it means for him in the midst of a tumultuous, and you suspect, defining period in his life.
We may think we know what it is, and what it is not, but the truth is, it's a hazily grouped together set of ideas that when put to the test, often come up wanting.
Just how wanting is impressively and movingly explored in Ben Hobson's masterfully-executed, deeply-affecting debut novel To Become a Whale, which explores what it means to be a man, or at least the concept of it, from various perspectives but most significantly, from the viewpoint of 13-year-old Sam Keogh.
Still mourning the untimely death of his mother when he is whisked off to the whaling station in Tangalooma on Moreton Island in its dying days of production in 1961 (it closes the following year) by his grieving, emotionally-remote, often-absent father, Sam is a young man in freefall.
Nurtured as a kind, sensitive, emotionally self-aware soul by his endlessly-attentive mother, he is shocked to encounter a world where people mask their true feelings, speak of traumatic life events with a gruff sentence or two, and where work is the be-all and end-all of someone's worth.
You could argue it's all part of growing up but given the speed and ferocity of Sam's immersion into the unreconstructed world of early-'60s manhood, where emotions are a liability and self-awareness near-to-none-existent, or at least, it's public expression, you can well understand why he struggles mightily to make sense of it all.
Under any circumstances, this would be an ordeal by existential fire, but in the mire of grief and its world-shaking hellishness where everything you value and love is shaken to the core, it's a well-nigh impossible experience to process.
Regardless of where Sam's dad Walter is coming from, and it's a world largely made up of emotional repression, being "manly" (whatever the hell that is) and doing a good solid day's work (and it turns out some genuine vulnerability, rarely expressed), it's not somewhere Sam is comfortable being, and as he witnesses more and more of the hardcore masculinity around him, he vows again and again to remain true to who he is and who his mother, his only fully-present carer growing up, raised him to be.
That's easier said than done, of course, since he is, after all, a 13-year-old boy, caught between these vows and his desperate need for love and approval from his emotionally-contrary father (and the wider group of men around him), who can be affectionate and understanding one minute and brutishly dismissive, and caustically angry another.
Still processing what it means to be alive, let alone a man, Sam is buffeted by competing demands and positions, embodied in Phil, his father's kind-of friend and fellow whaling station worker, who is at once real and honest, speaking of and demonstrating his love of music and dissatisfaction with his current job and yet complicit in upholding a version of masculinity that is aloof, actions-oriented and rough-and-tumble in a way Sam simply can't relate to.
Hobson manages, with a deftness and thoughtfulness that will have you nodding in recognition page after page, to examine with an emotionally-accessible profundity the complexity of masculinity, particularly as it relates to the fraught world of father-son relations, especially those being tested in the crucible of pain and loss.
It's his ability to balance this examination of a state of humanity that, like pretty much everything about being a person, has no real, firm, set answer - it's all things to everyone essentially - while still telling the harrowingly real story of Sam and his unwilling immersion into a terrifying new world that grants To Become a Whale so much of its exquisitely-expressed emotional resonance.
As a gay man who grew up being virulently teased for not meeting what were presented as comprehensively-agreed upon notions of masculinity, and who felt himself buffeted at every turn by a world he didn't understand nor really wanted to be a part of, I connected deeply with Sam's beautifully-wrought character.
His turmoil, his need for longing and yet equally powerful desire to stay true to himself and his mother's notion's of humanity, struck a deep chord, especially as it is given powerful, impressively-articulate voice by Hobson.
To Become a Whale is that rare beast - a novel with some raw, artfully-expressed notions on masculinity, a debate that continues to this day - Hobson's writing is sublime, beautiful and real all at once, as much poetic as it is insightful - and the immensely-personal, moving story of one young man's struggle to define what it means for him in the midst of a tumultuous, and you suspect, defining period in his life.
May 29, 2017
I wasn't sure if I would like this book being that it is set on a whaling station in 1961. I had really mixed thoughts about whether to read it or not. I am so glad that I decided to give it a go. This is one of the most moving books I have read this year.
It is about 'the boy' and his 'father' as they are known throughout the book. I kept waiting for them to become Sam and Dad but 'the boy' and 'father' fits for this particular book. Both are swept up in their own emotions, dealing with the deal of mother and wife. The father takes the boy from everything he knows and introduces him to a harsh world. We get glimpses of what life was like before and we wonder how did it get to where it did.
I was worried when the tale moved to Tangalooma Whaling Station that I wouldn't be able to stomach the violence that goes on, but Sam shows me through his eyes. This is a boy who touches a whale carcass and whispers "I'm sorry" because he feels it is the right thing to do.
These two people are strangers as they muddle their way through their new life, until one day, the boy decides to make a change. He becomes the master of his own destiny and in doing so discovers what it means to become a man.
This book is destined to become a classic of Australian literature.
It is about 'the boy' and his 'father' as they are known throughout the book. I kept waiting for them to become Sam and Dad but 'the boy' and 'father' fits for this particular book. Both are swept up in their own emotions, dealing with the deal of mother and wife. The father takes the boy from everything he knows and introduces him to a harsh world. We get glimpses of what life was like before and we wonder how did it get to where it did.
I was worried when the tale moved to Tangalooma Whaling Station that I wouldn't be able to stomach the violence that goes on, but Sam shows me through his eyes. This is a boy who touches a whale carcass and whispers "I'm sorry" because he feels it is the right thing to do.
These two people are strangers as they muddle their way through their new life, until one day, the boy decides to make a change. He becomes the master of his own destiny and in doing so discovers what it means to become a man.
This book is destined to become a classic of Australian literature.
May 8, 2017
“It seemed to be the way with his father; in the midst of a lesson the boy would feel both forgotten and loved all at once. As though his father’s aim was off. His father teaching him to shake hands wasn’t what the boy really needed. He needed a home, a bed”
To Become A Whale is the first novel by Australian teacher and author, Ben Hobson. It’s 1961, and Walter Keogh is a seasonal worker at the Tangalooma Whaling Station on Moreton Island. His short stature, his upbringing and his damaged right hand have given rise to a deep-seated insecurity. It manifests as an unstinting work ethic: he works extremely hard and has the respect of his colleagues.
This solitary man surely loves his son, Sam, but now, with him, is taciturn, occasionally cruel (with the intention of toughening the boy up), sometimes thoughtless and often completely clueless about what is needed to father a thirteen-year-old boy who has just lost his mother. To wit: he decides to sell up the family home with everything still in it.
“Now his father said it again he knew all his feelings were no longer dormant, that his mother’s death had not rendered him permanently numb, because now he felt sick, like throwing up. Somebody else was walking around in their home, using their things. Wearing his mother’s clothes. Asleep in the bed where she’d died. The life he had lived up to this point, he realised now, was truly gone, more of it than he’d imagined, stolen by a stranger. Some other kid wearing his things, being friends with his friends.”
And only immediately after the funeral, does Sam learn that, rather than staying with his grandparents and attending school, he is to accompany his father to Tangalooma where he will work (unpaid) learning his father’s job, flensing whales in twelve hour shifts. Surrounded by dead whales, he muses: “Perhaps no dignity was possible in death. The boy remembered his mother’s made-up cheeks and the look on his father’s face as he shut the coffin lid. He remembered too the colour of her sickness. All death was ugly; why not present it so?”
Sam is afraid. Afraid of his father’s occasional bouts of temper. Afraid of disappointing him. Afraid he will lose the kindness, sensitivity and compassion that his mother gave him. Afraid he might just die of exhaustion. Afraid that this is his future. But Sam is also angry, and eventually this anger puts him in a very dangerous place.
The main narrative is occasionally interspersed with flashback chapters describing events during Sam’s childhood. As well as depicting Sam’s life with his mother, these demonstrate that Walt was not always the sort of father that Sam was seeing now. Hobson has captured Australia in the mid-twentieth century with consummate ease; his characters are believable and their dialogue is realistic. His extensive research is apparent on every page, and readers should be prepared for some graphic descriptions of the processing of whales at a whaling station.
As well as being a classic coming of age tale, the story touches on grief and loss, love, the need for approval, trust and lies, fear and pride. Hobson’s prose is often superb: “The boy, still shielding his eyes, watched his father at ease. His father was not just his father. Seen from a different perspective, the boy knew he would see a simple man, a small man, a man who’d lost his wife recently, a man possibly doing his best. Long ago he’d lost his fingers. Was this pity? The boy wondered what it might feel like to have the salt water swish past the ancient nubs, whether there was any dormant memory of how they used to be”.
This is a brilliant debut novel and readers are bound to look forward to more from this talented author.
With thanks to Bookstr and Allen&Unwin for this copy to read and review.
To Become A Whale is the first novel by Australian teacher and author, Ben Hobson. It’s 1961, and Walter Keogh is a seasonal worker at the Tangalooma Whaling Station on Moreton Island. His short stature, his upbringing and his damaged right hand have given rise to a deep-seated insecurity. It manifests as an unstinting work ethic: he works extremely hard and has the respect of his colleagues.
This solitary man surely loves his son, Sam, but now, with him, is taciturn, occasionally cruel (with the intention of toughening the boy up), sometimes thoughtless and often completely clueless about what is needed to father a thirteen-year-old boy who has just lost his mother. To wit: he decides to sell up the family home with everything still in it.
“Now his father said it again he knew all his feelings were no longer dormant, that his mother’s death had not rendered him permanently numb, because now he felt sick, like throwing up. Somebody else was walking around in their home, using their things. Wearing his mother’s clothes. Asleep in the bed where she’d died. The life he had lived up to this point, he realised now, was truly gone, more of it than he’d imagined, stolen by a stranger. Some other kid wearing his things, being friends with his friends.”
And only immediately after the funeral, does Sam learn that, rather than staying with his grandparents and attending school, he is to accompany his father to Tangalooma where he will work (unpaid) learning his father’s job, flensing whales in twelve hour shifts. Surrounded by dead whales, he muses: “Perhaps no dignity was possible in death. The boy remembered his mother’s made-up cheeks and the look on his father’s face as he shut the coffin lid. He remembered too the colour of her sickness. All death was ugly; why not present it so?”
Sam is afraid. Afraid of his father’s occasional bouts of temper. Afraid of disappointing him. Afraid he will lose the kindness, sensitivity and compassion that his mother gave him. Afraid he might just die of exhaustion. Afraid that this is his future. But Sam is also angry, and eventually this anger puts him in a very dangerous place.
The main narrative is occasionally interspersed with flashback chapters describing events during Sam’s childhood. As well as depicting Sam’s life with his mother, these demonstrate that Walt was not always the sort of father that Sam was seeing now. Hobson has captured Australia in the mid-twentieth century with consummate ease; his characters are believable and their dialogue is realistic. His extensive research is apparent on every page, and readers should be prepared for some graphic descriptions of the processing of whales at a whaling station.
As well as being a classic coming of age tale, the story touches on grief and loss, love, the need for approval, trust and lies, fear and pride. Hobson’s prose is often superb: “The boy, still shielding his eyes, watched his father at ease. His father was not just his father. Seen from a different perspective, the boy knew he would see a simple man, a small man, a man who’d lost his wife recently, a man possibly doing his best. Long ago he’d lost his fingers. Was this pity? The boy wondered what it might feel like to have the salt water swish past the ancient nubs, whether there was any dormant memory of how they used to be”.
This is a brilliant debut novel and readers are bound to look forward to more from this talented author.
With thanks to Bookstr and Allen&Unwin for this copy to read and review.
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December 21, 2017Moving coming of age story - catering to that particular Australian male that we all know. Well observed...and nice to discover a story set on Moreton Island.
April 14, 2018
To Become a Whale is the debut novel of Ben Hobson, an Australian author from Brisbane, Queensland.
The story opens in 1961 at the funeral of thirteen-year-old Sam’s mother. Sam��s father, Walter Keogh, is a traditional Aussie bloke, in keeping with the men of the time and with his job at the Tangalooma whaling station on Moreton Island, off the southeast coast of Queensland. Walter’s uncomfortable with emotion and it soon becomes obvious that the pathway ahead for father and son, without the buffering presence of Sam’s mother, isn't going to be easy.
Sam’s father decides that making a fresh start is best for the two of them, and instead of returning to the family home, he drives them up the coast where they set up a rough camp near a beach. Sam’s father also buys a puppy, Albert, who immediately becomes Sam's friend and companion.
Although Sam’s only thirteen, his father believes he’s old enough to learn how to ‘flense’, the process by which the whale is stripped of its blubber. Sam accompanies his father to the very adult and male-dominated world at Tangalooma, where his eyes are opened to the whaling industry and the adult world. I had to keep reminding myself that it was 1961 and what was acceptable parenting was different then!
The character of the boy, Sam, is endearing—he's a sensitive soul. Sam's father has the complexity that makes a good, but flawed, character—you understand his decisions even if you disagree with them.
This is a coming of age tale that also examines grief, masculinity and father-son relationships. It looks, too, at the whaling industry and doesn’t shy away from some gory descriptions of the desecration of these beautiful creatures. It’s simply written and gritty in parts, but there are tender moments, particularly in the flashbacks to 1955 when Sam’s mother was still alive. It’s an honest, down-to-earth tale with unexpected twists and turns and a satisfying ending.
I won this book in a Goodreads giveaway but was under no obligation to write a review. (less)
The story opens in 1961 at the funeral of thirteen-year-old Sam’s mother. Sam��s father, Walter Keogh, is a traditional Aussie bloke, in keeping with the men of the time and with his job at the Tangalooma whaling station on Moreton Island, off the southeast coast of Queensland. Walter’s uncomfortable with emotion and it soon becomes obvious that the pathway ahead for father and son, without the buffering presence of Sam’s mother, isn't going to be easy.
'He did his best to hide the noise he was making with a hand clasped tight over his mouth and his head buried in his pillow.
Despite the boy's efforts, his father woke. 'You alright?'
A sniff. The boy couldn't answer.
Another moment and his father added, 'You have to stop crying, mate, and get some sleep. Crying doesn't fix anything.'
Sam’s father decides that making a fresh start is best for the two of them, and instead of returning to the family home, he drives them up the coast where they set up a rough camp near a beach. Sam’s father also buys a puppy, Albert, who immediately becomes Sam's friend and companion.
Although Sam’s only thirteen, his father believes he’s old enough to learn how to ‘flense’, the process by which the whale is stripped of its blubber. Sam accompanies his father to the very adult and male-dominated world at Tangalooma, where his eyes are opened to the whaling industry and the adult world. I had to keep reminding myself that it was 1961 and what was acceptable parenting was different then!
The character of the boy, Sam, is endearing—he's a sensitive soul. Sam's father has the complexity that makes a good, but flawed, character—you understand his decisions even if you disagree with them.
‘The boy nodded and his father stood in front of him and lifted him off the bed by his underarms as though he were an infant. Then his father straightened his shirt and adjusted his belt. Small gestures that made the boy feel loved.’
This is a coming of age tale that also examines grief, masculinity and father-son relationships. It looks, too, at the whaling industry and doesn’t shy away from some gory descriptions of the desecration of these beautiful creatures. It’s simply written and gritty in parts, but there are tender moments, particularly in the flashbacks to 1955 when Sam’s mother was still alive. It’s an honest, down-to-earth tale with unexpected twists and turns and a satisfying ending.
I won this book in a Goodreads giveaway but was under no obligation to write a review. (less)
June 5, 2017
To Become A Whale by Ben Hobson is a sensitively drawn story of an all-male world. Thirteen-year-old Sam, and his dad are forced together after the death of Sam's mum.
The father buys Sam a puppy, Albert who teaches Sam about love and forgiveness. His father takes him to work at a whaling station on Tangalooma in Queensland. To me, the whaling station symbolises the past and of what is best forgotten.
Hobson gives readers an insight into mate-ship and the complicated lines of a father-son relationship. It is vividly written and gives a view into Australian life in the 1950s and 60s. Beautifully written.
The father buys Sam a puppy, Albert who teaches Sam about love and forgiveness. His father takes him to work at a whaling station on Tangalooma in Queensland. To me, the whaling station symbolises the past and of what is best forgotten.
Hobson gives readers an insight into mate-ship and the complicated lines of a father-son relationship. It is vividly written and gives a view into Australian life in the 1950s and 60s. Beautifully written.
November 25, 2017
Set in Noosa and Moreton Island in 1961, this debut novel by Ben Hobson captures the rite of passage of 13-year-old Sam as his father takes him to Tangalooma whaling station to learn the trade. Sam is bereft, having lost his mother, and through flashbacks we see touching vignettes of his mother’s love for him. Though his mother is only present in these few flashbacks, she is central to the story, central to holding them together as a family. Sam’s dad Walter does not know how to father, let alone be both mother and father to Sam, shut off emotionally from his wife and child, and from the men he works with. No man is an island. At first, Sam seeks companionship in his dog Albert, and later Walter’s only friend, Phil. However, what he really seeks is his father’s care and love. The climax features an epic journey to force his father to grow up and be the man he should be. In the process, Sam grows up himself.
I received a copy of To Become a Whale as a Goodreads giveaway (very happily).
I received a copy of To Become a Whale as a Goodreads giveaway (very happily).
April 8, 2017
13 year old Sams mother has died. His father, who was previously away for long stretches and prone to spells of taciturnity, decides to take his son out to the whaling station he works at and toughen him up. Make a man out of the boy. Both are dealing with the loss of Sams mother. Both are trying to traverse this difficult melding of father and son.
It is partly a story about the process of grief, partly a father and son bonding tale, partly a coming of age narrative. Blended all together this is a dramatic literary debut that is set to be an Australian classic.
The story is set in the 60’s near Noosa and Moreton Bay in Queensland. It feels entirely authentic. The struggle for sweet gentle Sam to make himself feel part of the world of men in all its brutality feels genuine. I was unsure as to the boys motivation when he set out on his own, but it resonates well within the broader story. I was worried where it was going there for a while right near the end, but I have to admit I was very happy with the conclusion.
I loved the complex dynamics between the characters. I would like to have known more about the relationship with the grandparents. But overall the story had a realness to it that had me swept up in the tale until the end. A fantastic debut and a great piece of Australian literature.
It is partly a story about the process of grief, partly a father and son bonding tale, partly a coming of age narrative. Blended all together this is a dramatic literary debut that is set to be an Australian classic.
The story is set in the 60’s near Noosa and Moreton Bay in Queensland. It feels entirely authentic. The struggle for sweet gentle Sam to make himself feel part of the world of men in all its brutality feels genuine. I was unsure as to the boys motivation when he set out on his own, but it resonates well within the broader story. I was worried where it was going there for a while right near the end, but I have to admit I was very happy with the conclusion.
I loved the complex dynamics between the characters. I would like to have known more about the relationship with the grandparents. But overall the story had a realness to it that had me swept up in the tale until the end. A fantastic debut and a great piece of Australian literature.
August 30, 2017
This is a highly regarded book given the ratings/reviews on this site, and so it enticed me to read it even though it is not usually the type of novel I would read. It is an impressive debut novel, but I was not as enamoured by it as many other readers have been. This may partly be because it was a very masculinely-themed novel - the story of a recently widowed father, who works in the whaling industry and his relationship with his 13-year-old son. As I was reading it, however, I just found many aspects of the story implausible, which detracted from my ability to be fully carried away by the story. However, having said, that, I did like Hobson's writing style and look forward to seeing what he writes in the future.
July 31, 2017
I was blown away by this debut novel by Ben Hobson. Which is saying a lot because I could barely stomach the detail in which he described the activity of whaling. For someone who doesn't even eat meat, this was a difficult topic to engage myself in, but Ben handled the questions of morality and the truth of Australia's whaling history with a great deal of precision and tact.
What had me turning the pages was the incredibly strong voices, of the 13 year old protagonist Sam, his father Walter and the narrative itself. I've read a number of reviews pitching this as a coming of age story, and I agree, it is this, but it's also so much more. The plot is complex, yet simple. Boy loses mother. Husband loses wife. A father and son are strangers and must learn to exist with one another.
Not only is this about Sam and his struggle with losing his mum and navigating his father. It's also a story about parenting; and how easy it can be to fail in the eyes of your children, and the people around you.
I can't wait to see what Ben Hobson brings us next.
What had me turning the pages was the incredibly strong voices, of the 13 year old protagonist Sam, his father Walter and the narrative itself. I've read a number of reviews pitching this as a coming of age story, and I agree, it is this, but it's also so much more. The plot is complex, yet simple. Boy loses mother. Husband loses wife. A father and son are strangers and must learn to exist with one another.
Not only is this about Sam and his struggle with losing his mum and navigating his father. It's also a story about parenting; and how easy it can be to fail in the eyes of your children, and the people around you.
I can't wait to see what Ben Hobson brings us next.
July 1, 2017
"Moby Dick" meets "The Old Man and the Sea" meets "The Road", with an Aussie twist (and a brilliantly unique South-East Queensland flavour).
A sensitive and thought-provoking meditation on what it means to be a man (an Australian man, in particular) and a son. And while set in the late 1950s / early 1960s, its message remains, regrettably, all too relevant to 2017.
Ben Hobson is an impressive new Australian voice - I look forward to reading more from him in the future.
A sensitive and thought-provoking meditation on what it means to be a man (an Australian man, in particular) and a son. And while set in the late 1950s / early 1960s, its message remains, regrettably, all too relevant to 2017.
Ben Hobson is an impressive new Australian voice - I look forward to reading more from him in the future.
August 27, 2017
A moving and wonderfully told story of a father and son, of grief, forgiveness and the mistakes we make. Beautiful.
September 17, 2017
Beautiful story of a young boy trying to earn the respect of his father, who is a man's man in a tough environment. An impressive debut for Ben, and look forward to his next work.
April 22, 2018
This book took me totally by surprise. Its beauty and power creeps up and overwhelms. It probably deserves more than 4 stars. Yet…
My 5-star books are always peppered with elegant language and stunning imagery. Allegiance to some kind of literary hierarchy (imagined?) compels me to reserve that fifth star for something more elaborate than...
“The boy expected that, after a while, his father might come looking for him. He didn’t. And so, seemingly forgotten, the boy stayed by the headstone, ran a hand along it. It had been warmed by the sun.”
Once the narrative progresses and we are whisked across the bay to Tangalooma, Hobson’s simple words make way for an occasional flash of brilliance, proving he carries a true wordsmith’s DNA:
“There was a large white shape lashed to the side closest to them. Its skin swallowed water and light both and reflected colour back to the boy. One flipper was extended upwards, eternally asking a question.”
Ultimately, I suspect it’s the overwhelming simplicity of the telling that gives this story its power. Hobson speaks comfortably and convincingly in the voice of a 13-year-old as ‘the boy’ narrates his struggles on a tightrope, tottering between child and young man. The father, too, just as real and equally challenged as he struggles to forge a relationship with his son while they both ride the waves of their grief. And the father, achingly constricted by a rigid and confining view of manhood, makes this reader wring her hands, torn between weeping for him and slapping him. Hard. “Nothing wrong with caring, mate, but you can’t let that kind of thing cripple you the rest of your life. You understand?”
The events are gut-wrenching. The backdrop of an active whaling station at Tangalooma in the 1960s – of which I previously knew nothing, despite living all my life nearby – resonates with authenticity and amplifies the characters’ conflicts. Prepare to wince, wrinkle your nose, even grip your face in dread. But be proud, readers of Brisbane, oh so proud of this writer who lives and works amongst us. I eagerly await his next offering and I fervently hope he chooses to illuminate another fascinating but little-known aspect of this wonderful part of the world.
My 5-star books are always peppered with elegant language and stunning imagery. Allegiance to some kind of literary hierarchy (imagined?) compels me to reserve that fifth star for something more elaborate than...
“The boy expected that, after a while, his father might come looking for him. He didn’t. And so, seemingly forgotten, the boy stayed by the headstone, ran a hand along it. It had been warmed by the sun.”
Once the narrative progresses and we are whisked across the bay to Tangalooma, Hobson’s simple words make way for an occasional flash of brilliance, proving he carries a true wordsmith’s DNA:
“There was a large white shape lashed to the side closest to them. Its skin swallowed water and light both and reflected colour back to the boy. One flipper was extended upwards, eternally asking a question.”
Ultimately, I suspect it’s the overwhelming simplicity of the telling that gives this story its power. Hobson speaks comfortably and convincingly in the voice of a 13-year-old as ‘the boy’ narrates his struggles on a tightrope, tottering between child and young man. The father, too, just as real and equally challenged as he struggles to forge a relationship with his son while they both ride the waves of their grief. And the father, achingly constricted by a rigid and confining view of manhood, makes this reader wring her hands, torn between weeping for him and slapping him. Hard. “Nothing wrong with caring, mate, but you can’t let that kind of thing cripple you the rest of your life. You understand?”
The events are gut-wrenching. The backdrop of an active whaling station at Tangalooma in the 1960s – of which I previously knew nothing, despite living all my life nearby – resonates with authenticity and amplifies the characters’ conflicts. Prepare to wince, wrinkle your nose, even grip your face in dread. But be proud, readers of Brisbane, oh so proud of this writer who lives and works amongst us. I eagerly await his next offering and I fervently hope he chooses to illuminate another fascinating but little-known aspect of this wonderful part of the world.
September 5, 2017
To become a whale has opened my eyes up to a bit of loving history of the country I immigrated to. Sam is a 13 year old boy, who's mother dies of an illness, he is left in the care of his father. Walter is a whaler on tangalooma...which I know of current day is a resort for tourists, in the 60s it was a whaling station, one of the largest on the eastern side of Australia. Incredible history lessons inside this book. I couldn't put it down, I kept looking up details about the station. The story is brilliant, poor Sam is forced to work with his father carving up whales, he is mistreated and neglected. Sam is forced to grow up quickly and he ends up taking his destiny in his own hands. I looked up statistics and at the period of when this book was written the whale numbers had dropped drastically, this was right before whaling was ended and whales became protected. At that time the whaling station brought in 32 million dollars of revenue a year, currently whale watching brings in 70 million a year. I think of all the positives that have happened for those poor whales. It's so important to know their history, they made dog food and make up products out of their blubber. Very sad end for a majestic creature. This book is a must read, I knew whaling existed here, but not so close to my back yard. My only regret about this book was that I borrowed it from the library instead of buying a copy. Author is from Brisbane, not too far from where I live & I would have loved to support local talent. Amazing book!
August 16, 2023
4.5 stars
In 1961, 13 year old Sam’s mother has died leaving Sam with the father he only sees for part of the year when he is not based at the Tangalooma whaling station off the Queensland coast. Sam is a sensitive and gentle boy who loves animals and is wary of this often angry and cruel man that is his father.
When Sam’s father takes him to the whaling station with him to “learn the ropes” Sam is thrust into a new world of cruelty and men.
I really wasn’t sure about reading a book set mostly on a whaling station, however I’m so glad I did despite there being a few 🫣😬🥹 moments. The story is heartbreaking, yet beautiful as Sam’s gentle nature is subjected to the brutal realities of whaling and the ways of men - in particular in how they interact with each other.
It was interesting to witness the changes in Sam as he went from being primarily influenced by his mother, unknowingly to his father who he is never quite sure if he likes and trusts, at a time when he is searching for his place in the world and feeling very adrift. A very touching story that I really enjoyed reading (minus the whaling bits obviously!). ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5/5
In 1961, 13 year old Sam’s mother has died leaving Sam with the father he only sees for part of the year when he is not based at the Tangalooma whaling station off the Queensland coast. Sam is a sensitive and gentle boy who loves animals and is wary of this often angry and cruel man that is his father.
When Sam’s father takes him to the whaling station with him to “learn the ropes” Sam is thrust into a new world of cruelty and men.
I really wasn’t sure about reading a book set mostly on a whaling station, however I’m so glad I did despite there being a few 🫣😬🥹 moments. The story is heartbreaking, yet beautiful as Sam’s gentle nature is subjected to the brutal realities of whaling and the ways of men - in particular in how they interact with each other.
It was interesting to witness the changes in Sam as he went from being primarily influenced by his mother, unknowingly to his father who he is never quite sure if he likes and trusts, at a time when he is searching for his place in the world and feeling very adrift. A very touching story that I really enjoyed reading (minus the whaling bits obviously!). ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5/5
May 17, 2018
Slow start. Intriguing middle. Disappointing end. This book leaves me in two minds. Initially I was frustrated at the authors overly simple use of language. I guess when you’re taking on the voice of a 13 yr old boy it’s understandable but often I craved a little sentence variation (that’s the teacher coming out in me).... but then by the time we got to Tangalooma this beautiful, sad and touching story grabbed me. Using pictures of the whaling ports in Albany I had recently visited this story of Moreton island captured my imagination... and the innocence of the simple language really worked... here the characters came to life and I couldn’t put the book down...
Three and a half stars... I’d definitely read another by this upcoming author!
Three and a half stars... I’d definitely read another by this upcoming author!
April 5, 2018
I couldn’t continue this book. I’ve read too many stories of young people being damaged in the last year and I could not handle the rising sense of foreboding. Things did not look good for that little puppy either, so we out!
April 4, 2019
Beautifully written, haunting, emotive and captivating.
June 15, 2017
From the opening pages of Ben Hobson’s To Become a Whale (Allen & Unwin Books 2017), we are immersed in the confusion and grief of a young boy who has lost his mother. In 1961, thirteen-year-old Sam is at that tender age of transition between boy and man. His mother, Elizabeth, has just passed away after a lingering but unspecified illness, and we meet Sam as he struggles to comprehend the confronting rituals of the funeral ceremony in the company of his somewhat detached father, and his maternal grandparents. Already a solitary and aloof bloke, his father, Walt, becomes a little unhinged at the fact of his wife’s death. He is used to working away for six months of the year on a whaling station; he is most definitely not used to the responsibility of taking care of a child. Walt retreats further into his aloneness, seemingly incapable of managing – or even communicating – with his son, and uncertain how to navigate this new life without Elizabeth’s steadying influence.
In the first part of the book, Walt procures a dog – Albert – for Sam, ostensibly to protect their property. This friendship between dog and grieving boy is one of the many relationships depicted in the story with empathy, compassion and gentleness. The interactions between Sam and Walt, between Sam and other adults, and also the occasional flashback memory of Sam with his mother, combine to paint a vivid portrait of this alone and lonely child attempting to find his way.
One of the highlights of this book is the nature of the language. The story is told simply and in great detail; the minutiae of daily events are depicted in an even and matter-of-fact tone that often belies the emotion of the narrative. Everything is viewed through the prism of the boy’s viewpoint, and so complicated circumstances are made simpler by virtue of his naivety, and straightforward situations become more desperate or misconstrued because of his imagination and lack of comprehension. We see Walt as Sam sees him; it is not a sympathetic lens, and along with the boy, we struggle to balance his love for his father with his feeling that he has been abandoned or uncared for.
The German proverb at the start of the book: ‘There’s no eel so small but it hopes to become a whale’ is appropriate for the boy’s journey, for his hopes and aspirations. It also fits the narrative, which for the most part is set on the whaling station at Tangalooma where Walt works half the year, and where he takes the boy in the immediate aftermath of Elizabeth’s death. An ill-conceived decision, perhaps; one which would almost certainly not happen today and which predictably leads to some disastrous consequences. But most of this part of the story – the setting, the culture of whaling, the job of hunting whales and killing them for their meat and blubber and bone – is unfathomable when viewed through today’s values. And yet it was not that long ago – in our lifetime – when this activity was a legitimate and normal part of Australia’s economy. The visceral detail, the gory imagery of whales being killed and skinned and cut up, the blood and gore, all of this is shocking and repugnant to the sensibilities we have today towards these mammals, made even more so by the casual way it is addressed, the straightforward and grim way it is described. Whaling seems a very inhuman and cruel act, and yet we also get a feel for the men for whom it was just a job, a well-paying job no different to pulling pints at a pub or working the land.
Two quotes from the book leapt out at me – small phrases that say so much. In one section, the boy is watching a movie with his father. He has already seen the film the year before with his mum, who had ‘sat close beside him and whispered things to him, explaining the parts he might not have understood’. In contrast, his father ‘maybe had more respect for him, or less empathy’. A concise picture of the differences in their parenting. In another passage, the boy reflects on his view of his parents’ relationship, on his father’s anger and ‘imagined ideals’, on his mother’s kindness and warmth. He realises that while his father had been working away, ‘his mother had been fulfilled, happy, respected. The marriage was sturdier without the people’. Again, simple words that say so much.
So the thrust of this story is two-fold: the whaling itself; and the more profound exploration of the relationship between fathers and sons, about what makes a man, and how men deal with grief and loss and conflict. This is a book I will now pass to my own sons to read – while an adult text, it is certainly also appropriate for adolescent readers who will identify with the growing boy and his conflicting emotions and misunderstandings of the adults in his life, his shifting sense of self, and his blossoming awareness of the everyday strangeness and contradictions of the world around him.
In the first part of the book, Walt procures a dog – Albert – for Sam, ostensibly to protect their property. This friendship between dog and grieving boy is one of the many relationships depicted in the story with empathy, compassion and gentleness. The interactions between Sam and Walt, between Sam and other adults, and also the occasional flashback memory of Sam with his mother, combine to paint a vivid portrait of this alone and lonely child attempting to find his way.
One of the highlights of this book is the nature of the language. The story is told simply and in great detail; the minutiae of daily events are depicted in an even and matter-of-fact tone that often belies the emotion of the narrative. Everything is viewed through the prism of the boy’s viewpoint, and so complicated circumstances are made simpler by virtue of his naivety, and straightforward situations become more desperate or misconstrued because of his imagination and lack of comprehension. We see Walt as Sam sees him; it is not a sympathetic lens, and along with the boy, we struggle to balance his love for his father with his feeling that he has been abandoned or uncared for.
The German proverb at the start of the book: ‘There’s no eel so small but it hopes to become a whale’ is appropriate for the boy’s journey, for his hopes and aspirations. It also fits the narrative, which for the most part is set on the whaling station at Tangalooma where Walt works half the year, and where he takes the boy in the immediate aftermath of Elizabeth’s death. An ill-conceived decision, perhaps; one which would almost certainly not happen today and which predictably leads to some disastrous consequences. But most of this part of the story – the setting, the culture of whaling, the job of hunting whales and killing them for their meat and blubber and bone – is unfathomable when viewed through today’s values. And yet it was not that long ago – in our lifetime – when this activity was a legitimate and normal part of Australia’s economy. The visceral detail, the gory imagery of whales being killed and skinned and cut up, the blood and gore, all of this is shocking and repugnant to the sensibilities we have today towards these mammals, made even more so by the casual way it is addressed, the straightforward and grim way it is described. Whaling seems a very inhuman and cruel act, and yet we also get a feel for the men for whom it was just a job, a well-paying job no different to pulling pints at a pub or working the land.
Two quotes from the book leapt out at me – small phrases that say so much. In one section, the boy is watching a movie with his father. He has already seen the film the year before with his mum, who had ‘sat close beside him and whispered things to him, explaining the parts he might not have understood’. In contrast, his father ‘maybe had more respect for him, or less empathy’. A concise picture of the differences in their parenting. In another passage, the boy reflects on his view of his parents’ relationship, on his father’s anger and ‘imagined ideals’, on his mother’s kindness and warmth. He realises that while his father had been working away, ‘his mother had been fulfilled, happy, respected. The marriage was sturdier without the people’. Again, simple words that say so much.
So the thrust of this story is two-fold: the whaling itself; and the more profound exploration of the relationship between fathers and sons, about what makes a man, and how men deal with grief and loss and conflict. This is a book I will now pass to my own sons to read – while an adult text, it is certainly also appropriate for adolescent readers who will identify with the growing boy and his conflicting emotions and misunderstandings of the adults in his life, his shifting sense of self, and his blossoming awareness of the everyday strangeness and contradictions of the world around him.
April 15, 2017
An excellent Australian story that really shows the real life. A teen who is struggling ends up whaling. More than likely going to be a good study book and possible award winner
June 6, 2020
I’ll start by saying I disliked the majority of men in this book, who are mostly a result of toxic masculinity in 1961. Their ideals take Sam, the protagonist, through some pretty rough stuff.
I loved the setting of Moreton Bay in Queensland.
One thing that intrigued me was Hobson’s third person style, writing “the boy” rather than Sam’s name, which seemed to remove us from a personal connection with him. It doesn’t make us care for him any less, but I think in a way, it makes us part of the crowd of men, who seem to do anything to avoid getting too close to knowing someone else.
Hobson has a nice natural style of writing that’s definitely worth checking out, if you haven’t already.
I loved the setting of Moreton Bay in Queensland.
One thing that intrigued me was Hobson’s third person style, writing “the boy” rather than Sam’s name, which seemed to remove us from a personal connection with him. It doesn’t make us care for him any less, but I think in a way, it makes us part of the crowd of men, who seem to do anything to avoid getting too close to knowing someone else.
Hobson has a nice natural style of writing that’s definitely worth checking out, if you haven’t already.
July 18, 2023
with a 1/2.
My third by this skilled author who has the ability to competently tell an emotional story.
Nostalgic insofar as set in the 1960's...although Queensland is SO SO conservative and white !!!!
My third by this skilled author who has the ability to competently tell an emotional story.
Nostalgic insofar as set in the 1960's...although Queensland is SO SO conservative and white !!!!
November 1, 2017
An interesting “coming of age” story about a boy trying to find his way in a man’s world. It is also about his troubled relationship with his dad and the grief of losing his mother. Learning to survive and to forgive. I enjoyed it.
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