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The Bridge
Did the dead exist? Were they watching? Were they ghosts? Not the kind he’d imagined as a child, draped with white sheets, with the ability to walk through walls, but the kind that lodged themselves in your heart, in your memories, the kind that came to you in dreams, that you could see when you closed your eyes and sometimes even when your eyes were opened.
In 1970s Melbourne, 22-year-old Italian migrant Antonello is newly married and working as a rigger on the West Gate Bridge, a gleaming monument to a modern city. When the bridge collapses one October morning, killing 35 of his workmates, his world crashes down on him.
In 2009, Jo and her best friend, Ashleigh, are on the verge of finishing high school and flush with the possibilities for their future. But one terrible mistake sets Jo’s life on a radically different course.
Drawing on true events of Australia’s worst industrial accident — a tragedy that still scars the city — The Bridge is a profoundly moving novel that examines class, guilt, and moral culpability. Yet it shows that even the most harrowing of situations can give way to forgiveness and redemption. Ultimately, it is a testament to survival and the resilience of the human spirit.
In 1970s Melbourne, 22-year-old Italian migrant Antonello is newly married and working as a rigger on the West Gate Bridge, a gleaming monument to a modern city. When the bridge collapses one October morning, killing 35 of his workmates, his world crashes down on him.
In 2009, Jo and her best friend, Ashleigh, are on the verge of finishing high school and flush with the possibilities for their future. But one terrible mistake sets Jo’s life on a radically different course.
Drawing on true events of Australia’s worst industrial accident — a tragedy that still scars the city — The Bridge is a profoundly moving novel that examines class, guilt, and moral culpability. Yet it shows that even the most harrowing of situations can give way to forgiveness and redemption. Ultimately, it is a testament to survival and the resilience of the human spirit.
384 pages, Paperback
First published May 14, 2018
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588 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 112 reviews
April 25, 2019
The Bridge played bait and switch with my expectations and I can see how that might have bothered some readers, who were expecting an examination of the collapse of the West Gate Bridge in the 1970s. In spite of this, I found the story that Gandolfo did choose to tell highly engaging.
The collapse of the bridge, which begins this novel is exceptionally well written and captivating. Instead of being the central focus of the novel, it serves as a thematic anchor for the narrative. This is a novel that examines tragedy, both large and small in scale. Through these twin tragedies, Gandolfo interrogates some challenging ideas about both human nature, and urban Australian society. This is a story about social mobility, and immobility, generational change and stasis, it’s a confronting reminder of the role of chance in determining the outcomes of the poor decisions which we universally make, a reminder that in the face of immeasurable loss and grief that life endures and that we have to choose to engage in it or be consumed. I appreciated most, that Gandolfo resisted neat endings. The strength of this novel is that it is real, and imperfect. I thought it was a pretty great read.
The collapse of the bridge, which begins this novel is exceptionally well written and captivating. Instead of being the central focus of the novel, it serves as a thematic anchor for the narrative. This is a novel that examines tragedy, both large and small in scale. Through these twin tragedies, Gandolfo interrogates some challenging ideas about both human nature, and urban Australian society. This is a story about social mobility, and immobility, generational change and stasis, it’s a confronting reminder of the role of chance in determining the outcomes of the poor decisions which we universally make, a reminder that in the face of immeasurable loss and grief that life endures and that we have to choose to engage in it or be consumed. I appreciated most, that Gandolfo resisted neat endings. The strength of this novel is that it is real, and imperfect. I thought it was a pretty great read.
March 18, 2019
'The remains of the bridge formed a rugged landscape, barren, bleak. Beneath the fallen concrete and steel, there were the relics of another world, another time, buried, already, in the past. They dug, they uncovered, they removed the rubble, but they could not resurrect that lost world.'
The collapse of Melbourne’s West Gate Bridge during its construction in 1970 killed 35 workers and is to this day referred to as Australia’s worst industrial accident. But until the release of Enza Gandolfo’s The Bridge I (like most other Aussies my age, I suspect) had never heard of it. This novel draws upon that tragedy and the memory of it, as the bridge – literally and figuratively – casts a shadow over the characters and their stories.
That disaster is only prefatory though, as the bulk of this novel takes place in 2009 and concerns a modern-day tragedy, one involving teenagers and alcohol and a car. In the process, Gandolfo examines grief and guilt, culpability and justice. It’s very plainly written, but with heart, wisdom and believable, fallible characters (although I was irritated by the depiction of a defence barrister whose defining characteristic is her body size – this character was not well handled to say the least).
I try very hard to judge a book based on what it is, not what I might have expected or wished it to be, but The Bridge was a real test of that principle. The early chapters detailing the bridge’s collapse were so compelling, and I wanted to read more of the fallout from that: the impact of so many deaths on a community, the Royal Commission, the union organising, the stories of the survivors who returned to work to get the bridge finally completed. Antonello’s story, as a worker who survived that day and lived with the effects for decades, intrigued me but in the 2009 plotline he is only a relatively minor character.
The historical events may not be the main focus, but they lend thematic depth to Gandolfo’s story: one of repercussions, of the enduring legacy of life-changing mistakes and living with the consequences. As a means of ingress to empathy, The Bridge achieves its aims. 3.5 stars.
The collapse of Melbourne’s West Gate Bridge during its construction in 1970 killed 35 workers and is to this day referred to as Australia’s worst industrial accident. But until the release of Enza Gandolfo’s The Bridge I (like most other Aussies my age, I suspect) had never heard of it. This novel draws upon that tragedy and the memory of it, as the bridge – literally and figuratively – casts a shadow over the characters and their stories.
That disaster is only prefatory though, as the bulk of this novel takes place in 2009 and concerns a modern-day tragedy, one involving teenagers and alcohol and a car. In the process, Gandolfo examines grief and guilt, culpability and justice. It’s very plainly written, but with heart, wisdom and believable, fallible characters (although I was irritated by the depiction of a defence barrister whose defining characteristic is her body size – this character was not well handled to say the least).
I try very hard to judge a book based on what it is, not what I might have expected or wished it to be, but The Bridge was a real test of that principle. The early chapters detailing the bridge’s collapse were so compelling, and I wanted to read more of the fallout from that: the impact of so many deaths on a community, the Royal Commission, the union organising, the stories of the survivors who returned to work to get the bridge finally completed. Antonello’s story, as a worker who survived that day and lived with the effects for decades, intrigued me but in the 2009 plotline he is only a relatively minor character.
The historical events may not be the main focus, but they lend thematic depth to Gandolfo’s story: one of repercussions, of the enduring legacy of life-changing mistakes and living with the consequences. As a means of ingress to empathy, The Bridge achieves its aims. 3.5 stars.
March 16, 2019
Enza Gandolfo’s The Bridge, is lovely and engrossing, full of empathy for its characters. The Bridge is Melbourne’s West Gate Bridge, which collapsed on October 15th, 1970, shortly before its planned opening: thirty-five workers died. Gandolfo’s novel revolves around the West Gate Bridge—its building, its collapse, its rebuilding, and its physical and emotional place in the community—as its organizing theme: ”Antonello and Paolina saw the bridge daily; there was no avoiding it. Whenever they went to the shops or walked to Alex’s house of picked up their granddaughters from school, the bridge towered over them. Whenever they took the train into the city or headed for a drive to Williamstown or Altona, it was there, a deep scar on the horizon.”
Starting in 1970 with Australian- and foreign-born workers who risked and also lost their lives building the bridge and then skipping to 2009, Gandolfo portrays generational and social change, mobility and immobility, how guilt, shame, and grief persist and define generations, marriages and friendships, and lives. Worker and immigrant solidarity—”una faccia una razza” figure prominently in Gandolfo’s Melbourne. While The Bridge hints at survival and even redemption, Gandolfo avoids turning her plot into saccharine pablum, which a lesser and less courageous writer might have done. Gandolfo conveys a memorable sense of place when describing the immediate neighborhood of The Bridge: ”There was no escaping the bridge. It was impossible to see the ghost gum and not the bridge behind it. It was impossible to step out of the front gate and not be aware of its looming presence. It was a grey span across their skyline. It was embedded in the local community. . . There were times when Mandy was so besieged by their street, by the stench of the petroleum, of the car fumes, of the rattle and roar of traffic, that her body seemed to dissolve. ‘On some days, ‘ Mandy said, ‘living here, I feel like I’m drowning.’ On those days, the smell was everything; it was as if she carried it with her wherever she went, even if she went away, miles across town.”.
While The Bridge isn’t a paean to Melbourne and I finished wanting to feel more of its presence, The Bridge is a paean to Melburnians, mateship, and community and family survival.
3.5 stars, subject to reconsideration after further brooding.
Starting in 1970 with Australian- and foreign-born workers who risked and also lost their lives building the bridge and then skipping to 2009, Gandolfo portrays generational and social change, mobility and immobility, how guilt, shame, and grief persist and define generations, marriages and friendships, and lives. Worker and immigrant solidarity—”una faccia una razza” figure prominently in Gandolfo’s Melbourne. While The Bridge hints at survival and even redemption, Gandolfo avoids turning her plot into saccharine pablum, which a lesser and less courageous writer might have done. Gandolfo conveys a memorable sense of place when describing the immediate neighborhood of The Bridge: ”There was no escaping the bridge. It was impossible to see the ghost gum and not the bridge behind it. It was impossible to step out of the front gate and not be aware of its looming presence. It was a grey span across their skyline. It was embedded in the local community. . . There were times when Mandy was so besieged by their street, by the stench of the petroleum, of the car fumes, of the rattle and roar of traffic, that her body seemed to dissolve. ‘On some days, ‘ Mandy said, ‘living here, I feel like I’m drowning.’ On those days, the smell was everything; it was as if she carried it with her wherever she went, even if she went away, miles across town.”.
While The Bridge isn’t a paean to Melbourne and I finished wanting to feel more of its presence, The Bridge is a paean to Melburnians, mateship, and community and family survival.
3.5 stars, subject to reconsideration after further brooding.
January 28, 2019
A really beautiful book set firmly in Melbourne's west. It tells the story of a family that have to deal with two tragedies across 40 years, starting with the collapse of the Westgate Bridge in the 1970s which reverberates across the rest of the story. The writing's not flashy, but the characters are so well developed - complicated, messy people who make mistakes and feel real. There's something refreshing about seeing a working class family on the page too, in a realistic and not dysfunctional portrayal.
Gandolfo's main focus is on how we survive tragedy and grief, and this is a deeply moving examination of the topic.
Gandolfo's main focus is on how we survive tragedy and grief, and this is a deeply moving examination of the topic.
September 28, 2018
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The Bridge by Enza Gandolfo. (2018).
In 1970s Melbourne, newlywed Antonello is a young Italian migrant working on the West Gate Bridge when it collapses killing 35 of his colleagues and his world crashes down on him.
In 2009, Jo and her best friend Ashleigh are almost finished high school but one mistake changes Jo's life forever.
This is a very moving novel. The book starts in 1970 when the bridge collapses and then moves to 2009. I genuinely had no prior knowledge of this tragic industrial event and can only imagine how traumatizing it would have been - the author has written vividly to transport the reader to this time.
I would describe this book as primarily being about loss and the effect that can have on your life. It also looks at love and forgiveness (of others and yourself) while touching on class, guilt and moral culpability.
Overall, a poignant and eloquent novel that will no doubt have a lingering effect on readers (yes, I'm throwing a couple of big words out there because they fit the best haha).
The Bridge by Enza Gandolfo. (2018).
In 1970s Melbourne, newlywed Antonello is a young Italian migrant working on the West Gate Bridge when it collapses killing 35 of his colleagues and his world crashes down on him.
In 2009, Jo and her best friend Ashleigh are almost finished high school but one mistake changes Jo's life forever.
This is a very moving novel. The book starts in 1970 when the bridge collapses and then moves to 2009. I genuinely had no prior knowledge of this tragic industrial event and can only imagine how traumatizing it would have been - the author has written vividly to transport the reader to this time.
I would describe this book as primarily being about loss and the effect that can have on your life. It also looks at love and forgiveness (of others and yourself) while touching on class, guilt and moral culpability.
Overall, a poignant and eloquent novel that will no doubt have a lingering effect on readers (yes, I'm throwing a couple of big words out there because they fit the best haha).
May 14, 2018
Resilience. Some people can recover enough from the most harrowing situations to live a good life, while other people suffer ongoing torment and their lives are destroyed.
Enza Gandolfo’s superb second novel ventures into this territory with a story that begins with the collapse of the West Gate Bridge in 1970 and the deaths of 35 workers in Australia’s worst industrial accident. I was there that day: my driving instructor used to take me down to Fisherman’s Bend to practise parking in the ferry’s carpark. We were turned back by police, but we could see what had happened. One of the spans that had been there had collapsed, hurling the workers on the span 50 metres to the ground, and crushing under 2000 tonnes of concrete others who were having lunch in the workers’ huts on the ground beneath the span.
Gandolfo’s depiction of this tragedy is horrifically vivid. Antonello, an Italian migrant who had swapped his morning shift that day, watches aghast from below:
To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2018/05/14/t...
Enza Gandolfo’s superb second novel ventures into this territory with a story that begins with the collapse of the West Gate Bridge in 1970 and the deaths of 35 workers in Australia’s worst industrial accident. I was there that day: my driving instructor used to take me down to Fisherman’s Bend to practise parking in the ferry’s carpark. We were turned back by police, but we could see what had happened. One of the spans that had been there had collapsed, hurling the workers on the span 50 metres to the ground, and crushing under 2000 tonnes of concrete others who were having lunch in the workers’ huts on the ground beneath the span.
Gandolfo’s depiction of this tragedy is horrifically vivid. Antonello, an Italian migrant who had swapped his morning shift that day, watches aghast from below:
There was an agonising groan as the span the rigging team had spent the last five days hoisting up moved again. It was caving in the centre now, and the men were trapped midair. They stumbled, slid and slipped. They were bashed by the flying debris; their arms reached for the sides of the girder, for something, but there was nothing. Gas bottles, drums, pieces of timber, chains and bolts spun and rolled and fell over the edges, turning into airborne missiles.The impact and the explosion could be heard 20 kilometres away.
Another jolt; the span was almost vertical now. A stiff-legged derrick loosed from its mooring catapulted towards the river, its long metal arms flaying violently, a giant possessed. And now the men: the men were falling, falling off, falling through the air and into the river below. They were screaming, but their cries were muffled by the bridge’s own deathly groans. (p.15)
To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2018/05/14/t...
August 24, 2019
3.5* rounded up.
January 6, 2019
Enza Gandolfo’s beautiful and powerful novel ‘The Bridge’ begins in 1970 with the building of the Westgate Bridge in Melbourne’s western suburbs and takes its inspiration from the real life tragedy that occurred when the bridge collapsed because of the arrogance and negligence of those in charge.
The narrative then leaps into the 21st century, taking a long view of trauma and grief, as well as a sharply focussed one via the telling of two tragedies and their aftermaths. The Bridge connects the tragedies, as does the family of Antonello, a 22 year old Italian migrant rigger and newlywed when the book opens.
Plot wise I shall not say more than this. It’s not a thriller or a mystery, but the suspense of what will happen was at times excruciating to read. Gandolfo takes real risks in her story telling and avoids the easy way out at every turn. I cared deeply for her characters and wept for some of them.
‘The Bridge’ was released last year to positive reviews, but seems to have otherwise flown under the radar. I hope this is corrected when award season rolls around. I so appreciated reading about ordinary people and the suburbs and parents and children and the tender frailties of friendships. I think this book, and the author’s unrelenting and compassionate treatment of grief, will stay with me for a long time.
The narrative then leaps into the 21st century, taking a long view of trauma and grief, as well as a sharply focussed one via the telling of two tragedies and their aftermaths. The Bridge connects the tragedies, as does the family of Antonello, a 22 year old Italian migrant rigger and newlywed when the book opens.
Plot wise I shall not say more than this. It’s not a thriller or a mystery, but the suspense of what will happen was at times excruciating to read. Gandolfo takes real risks in her story telling and avoids the easy way out at every turn. I cared deeply for her characters and wept for some of them.
‘The Bridge’ was released last year to positive reviews, but seems to have otherwise flown under the radar. I hope this is corrected when award season rolls around. I so appreciated reading about ordinary people and the suburbs and parents and children and the tender frailties of friendships. I think this book, and the author’s unrelenting and compassionate treatment of grief, will stay with me for a long time.
abandoned-on-hold
March 25, 2019This book has fallen under the weight of my cascading library hold situation. I enjoyed the trip down memory lane of the book being set in my old neighbourhood but it was too much misery for my mindset at the moment.
I am having terrible luck with the Stella Prize nominees this year.
I am having terrible luck with the Stella Prize nominees this year.
March 17, 2019
‘How did people keep living when grief was weighed down by guilt?’
The Bridge is a stunning novel. Grave, yes, but exquisitely written, an intricate study on trauma and grief tightly meshed with guilt. I’m normally quite a fast reader, but I slowed myself right down with this one, taking the time to linger over the way it was making me feel. I’ve had this novel sitting on my review pile for a couple of months now but I think I’ve ended up reading it at the right time. My daughter is only a couple of weeks away from taking her provisional license test and given Jo’s storyline, this novel has really left its imprint upon me.
I hate drink drivers. Even though I’m on my open license and have been for more than twenty years, I still maintain an alcohol level of zero if I’m going to be driving. Maybe some people will think this is overboard, but I have my own reasons as to why I live by this code. As far as characters go, Jo was about as stupid as they come, yet incredibly authentic, because how many young people think they’re invincible? I work with teenagers, older ones at a senior high school, they never think something bad is going to happen to them. I’ve supervised during countless presentations on alcohol and drug education, so I know the kids are all getting these messages. But Jo fairly typifies teens, in my view. She drank so much alcohol, and then loaded her car up with two more passengers than what was legal for her license, sped, did not pay attention, and then crashed. Such a stupid, stupid girl. But she’s not the first, and while she may be a fictional character, she’s as real as they come. This happens all too often. But it wasn’t Jo I was the angriest at.
‘She should’ve stopped Jo driving. She should’ve tried. She was a coward, avoiding conflict, instead of being a proper mother; a proper mother would’ve stopped them.’
It was Mandy, her mother. I’ve come across a few Mandy’s in recent years and they make parenting really damned hard for the rest of us who are trying maintain a household with rules and safe behavior. It’s the Mandy’s of the world, who just don’t want to put in the effort to argue with their kids, who give in and give up, that see the rest of us going head to head with our irate teenagers because we are ‘the strictest parents in the world’. To know the law, to witness your daughter drinking alcohol prior to driving, knowing she’s going to pick up more passengers than she’s allowed, and all you do is make an egg sandwich for her to soak up the alcohol and then wave goodbye? She was even more stupid than her daughter and I really didn’t have much sympathy for either of them. I completely understood why the accident tainted her love for Jo, but I also didn’t think Mandy had the right to feel that way given her own culpability. Jo might have been nineteen, technically an adult, but as far as I’m concerned, if your child still lives at home, you, as their parent, have a responsibility to parent them if they appear to be doing something unsafe or illegal. There’s all sorts of interesting ideas that you can pick at here from this storyline, particularly at what point you stop parenting and step back and let the consequences occur, but given that Jo was still at high school, still dependent on Mandy, I really think Mandy did the wrong thing in a big way and was partially culpable for the tragedy that occurred.
For me, a good book is one that makes you feel with intensity, be it happy, sad or something in between. It’s one that gets your thoughts churning and your emotions rising. This is most definitely one of those novels for me. While I was passing judgement from my high horse on Mandy and Jo, I could still directly relate to their experiences, because parenting styles and socioeconomic circumstances aside, I am in that same stage of life as them. For all of the hard yards I’ve done with my daughter, for all I keep reminding her of the law, personal safety, making smart choices, she could, at any point in time, make a bad judgement, kill someone, kill herself, injure an innocent bystander. The ripple effect of this is profound, and within this novel, Enza meticulously deconstructs this ripple effect. Like I said above, this is a grave novel, the subject matter is weighty, the emotions of grief and guilt are heavy to bear witness to, but it’s such an important novel. It would be a brilliant addition to the senior school English syllabus. I hope one day to see it there.
‘As if bad things could be thwarted by his refusal to pay them attention. As if he didn’t know better. As if he didn’t know that tragedy could and would strike whether you were around to pick up the phone or not, that it would catch up with you and stop you in your tracks no matter how hard or fast you ran, no matter whether you’d had your share of tragedy or not.’
There are in essence two stories within this novel, and while Enza weaves them tightly together with her themes of trauma, grief and guilt, along with the West Gate Bridge providing a focal setting point, Antonio’s story is different to Jo’s. Antonio is Ashleigh’s grandfather, and when he was twenty two, he was working on the West Gate Bridge when it collapsed. His guilt is still sharp even forty years on, a survivor guilt because he’d swapped a shift and the person replacing him died that day. As far as he’s concerned, it should have been him. His guilt manifests itself within him and he fails to grieve properly, resulting in him carrying this around within him, never letting go. When ‘the bridge’ takes the life of his granddaughter, all of Antonio’s barely suppressed grief comes to the surface. It was really well done, how Enza mirrored Antonio’s grief and guilt with Jo’s. Two different accidents, but the emotions wrought within were the same for each of them.
In terms of writing about the tragedy of the bridge collapse, Enza’s account was so authentically rendered. You could really feel the terror, the chaos, the choked atmosphere that comes with such a large scale tragedy. I am actually familiar with the collapse of the West Gate Bridge, even though it happened before I was born. My father was working on the bridge, he was nineteen at the time of the collapse. He was a labourer, so down on the ground. After I finished reading The Bridge, I asked him about that day, and nearly 50 years on, his memories were so clear and listening to him as he recalled specifics gave me goosebumps.
‘We never got offered counselling, there was nothing like that. We just came back to work a couple of months after and finished the bridge…’ (C.F. 2019)
He’s always been a staunch unionist though, and I wonder now how much this accident influenced that within him. I can only imagine the horror of that day, the lasting trauma. My dad told me it took him a very long time before he could cross the bridge after it was finished. He still hasn’t ever visited the memorial. You can see why this novel has left its mark on me, with both storylines being so close to home.
‘Did the dead exist anywhere? Were they watching?
…He felt the weight of their unlived lives, of all they might have been; he felt his own inadequacy.’
The Bridge has been shortlisted for the 2019 Stella Prize, and in my opinion, it’s worthy of the winning place. It has all the markers of an Australian classic. There’s even more themes within this novel that I haven’t even touched on, but we’d be here all day if I kept going on and on. Best you just read The Bridge for yourself. Highly recommended reading for all tastes and interests.
Thanks is extended to Scribe for providing me with a copy of The Bridge for review.
The Bridge is a stunning novel. Grave, yes, but exquisitely written, an intricate study on trauma and grief tightly meshed with guilt. I’m normally quite a fast reader, but I slowed myself right down with this one, taking the time to linger over the way it was making me feel. I’ve had this novel sitting on my review pile for a couple of months now but I think I’ve ended up reading it at the right time. My daughter is only a couple of weeks away from taking her provisional license test and given Jo’s storyline, this novel has really left its imprint upon me.
I hate drink drivers. Even though I’m on my open license and have been for more than twenty years, I still maintain an alcohol level of zero if I’m going to be driving. Maybe some people will think this is overboard, but I have my own reasons as to why I live by this code. As far as characters go, Jo was about as stupid as they come, yet incredibly authentic, because how many young people think they’re invincible? I work with teenagers, older ones at a senior high school, they never think something bad is going to happen to them. I’ve supervised during countless presentations on alcohol and drug education, so I know the kids are all getting these messages. But Jo fairly typifies teens, in my view. She drank so much alcohol, and then loaded her car up with two more passengers than what was legal for her license, sped, did not pay attention, and then crashed. Such a stupid, stupid girl. But she’s not the first, and while she may be a fictional character, she’s as real as they come. This happens all too often. But it wasn’t Jo I was the angriest at.
‘She should’ve stopped Jo driving. She should’ve tried. She was a coward, avoiding conflict, instead of being a proper mother; a proper mother would’ve stopped them.’
It was Mandy, her mother. I’ve come across a few Mandy’s in recent years and they make parenting really damned hard for the rest of us who are trying maintain a household with rules and safe behavior. It’s the Mandy’s of the world, who just don’t want to put in the effort to argue with their kids, who give in and give up, that see the rest of us going head to head with our irate teenagers because we are ‘the strictest parents in the world’. To know the law, to witness your daughter drinking alcohol prior to driving, knowing she’s going to pick up more passengers than she’s allowed, and all you do is make an egg sandwich for her to soak up the alcohol and then wave goodbye? She was even more stupid than her daughter and I really didn’t have much sympathy for either of them. I completely understood why the accident tainted her love for Jo, but I also didn’t think Mandy had the right to feel that way given her own culpability. Jo might have been nineteen, technically an adult, but as far as I’m concerned, if your child still lives at home, you, as their parent, have a responsibility to parent them if they appear to be doing something unsafe or illegal. There’s all sorts of interesting ideas that you can pick at here from this storyline, particularly at what point you stop parenting and step back and let the consequences occur, but given that Jo was still at high school, still dependent on Mandy, I really think Mandy did the wrong thing in a big way and was partially culpable for the tragedy that occurred.
For me, a good book is one that makes you feel with intensity, be it happy, sad or something in between. It’s one that gets your thoughts churning and your emotions rising. This is most definitely one of those novels for me. While I was passing judgement from my high horse on Mandy and Jo, I could still directly relate to their experiences, because parenting styles and socioeconomic circumstances aside, I am in that same stage of life as them. For all of the hard yards I’ve done with my daughter, for all I keep reminding her of the law, personal safety, making smart choices, she could, at any point in time, make a bad judgement, kill someone, kill herself, injure an innocent bystander. The ripple effect of this is profound, and within this novel, Enza meticulously deconstructs this ripple effect. Like I said above, this is a grave novel, the subject matter is weighty, the emotions of grief and guilt are heavy to bear witness to, but it’s such an important novel. It would be a brilliant addition to the senior school English syllabus. I hope one day to see it there.
‘As if bad things could be thwarted by his refusal to pay them attention. As if he didn’t know better. As if he didn’t know that tragedy could and would strike whether you were around to pick up the phone or not, that it would catch up with you and stop you in your tracks no matter how hard or fast you ran, no matter whether you’d had your share of tragedy or not.’
There are in essence two stories within this novel, and while Enza weaves them tightly together with her themes of trauma, grief and guilt, along with the West Gate Bridge providing a focal setting point, Antonio’s story is different to Jo’s. Antonio is Ashleigh’s grandfather, and when he was twenty two, he was working on the West Gate Bridge when it collapsed. His guilt is still sharp even forty years on, a survivor guilt because he’d swapped a shift and the person replacing him died that day. As far as he’s concerned, it should have been him. His guilt manifests itself within him and he fails to grieve properly, resulting in him carrying this around within him, never letting go. When ‘the bridge’ takes the life of his granddaughter, all of Antonio’s barely suppressed grief comes to the surface. It was really well done, how Enza mirrored Antonio’s grief and guilt with Jo’s. Two different accidents, but the emotions wrought within were the same for each of them.
In terms of writing about the tragedy of the bridge collapse, Enza’s account was so authentically rendered. You could really feel the terror, the chaos, the choked atmosphere that comes with such a large scale tragedy. I am actually familiar with the collapse of the West Gate Bridge, even though it happened before I was born. My father was working on the bridge, he was nineteen at the time of the collapse. He was a labourer, so down on the ground. After I finished reading The Bridge, I asked him about that day, and nearly 50 years on, his memories were so clear and listening to him as he recalled specifics gave me goosebumps.
‘We never got offered counselling, there was nothing like that. We just came back to work a couple of months after and finished the bridge…’ (C.F. 2019)
He’s always been a staunch unionist though, and I wonder now how much this accident influenced that within him. I can only imagine the horror of that day, the lasting trauma. My dad told me it took him a very long time before he could cross the bridge after it was finished. He still hasn’t ever visited the memorial. You can see why this novel has left its mark on me, with both storylines being so close to home.
‘Did the dead exist anywhere? Were they watching?
…He felt the weight of their unlived lives, of all they might have been; he felt his own inadequacy.’
The Bridge has been shortlisted for the 2019 Stella Prize, and in my opinion, it’s worthy of the winning place. It has all the markers of an Australian classic. There’s even more themes within this novel that I haven’t even touched on, but we’d be here all day if I kept going on and on. Best you just read The Bridge for yourself. Highly recommended reading for all tastes and interests.
Thanks is extended to Scribe for providing me with a copy of The Bridge for review.
August 6, 2018
I knew I wanted to read this book when an extract popped up on my Facebook feed. I read about Antonello, a 22 year old migrant, and rigger who is helping to build the Westgate bridge in 1970, only to watch it collapse. The collapse of the bridge and the 35 men who died is the worst industrial accident in Australia's history. That's all I knew about the book, that it was about the Westgate bridge and therefore the Western suburbs. And yet it is so much more. In 2009 Jo is in her last year of high school, and is battling her own anxiety and fears about losing her best friend Ashleigh. And then tragedy strikes and Jo's life is turned upside down. The Bridge is about living with ghosts, the ghosts of our mistakes and the ghosts of those who are lost. It is a beautiful lyrical novel that completely sucked me into its world. While the characterisation of Jo and Antonello, and other characters who tell their story is so powerful, the Western suburbs are a character of their own. I'm in awe of Enza Gandolfo's talent in writing this story. I feel emotionally spent in the aftermath of finishing this book.
April 1, 2019
Finished: 01.04.2019
Genre: novel
Rating: D
#StellaPrizeShortlist 2019
Conclusion:
This starts out so well... has potential
West Gate Bridge Collapse 1970 Melbourne
...but
the book then rambles on and I turned over
page after page of prose that could have been cut.
By the end, I cared about nothing but finishing the book asap.
Here are a few points I highlight:
My Thoughts
Genre: novel
Rating: D
#StellaPrizeShortlist 2019
Conclusion:
This starts out so well... has potential
West Gate Bridge Collapse 1970 Melbourne
...but
the book then rambles on and I turned over
page after page of prose that could have been cut.
By the end, I cared about nothing but finishing the book asap.
Here are a few points I highlight:
My Thoughts
February 22, 2019
I might read it again..... when I stop crying.
Read
March 18, 2019One of the most profoundly moving and beautiful books I have read all year, brimming with love, honesty, and insight. A true gem of a novel.
Alice Pung
This exquisite, moving story from Gandolfo captures the raw, wide-reaching pain of the tragedy, long regarded as Australia’s worst industrial accident.
The Herald Sun
Superb … Utterly heartbreaking.’
ANZ LitLovers
A poignant novel which examines class, grief, guilt and moral culpability, The Bridge weaves together two vastly different yet interrelated narratives.
Il Globo
[Enza Gandolfo] doesn't shy away from the unpleasant emotions of her characters, and paints a startlingly real and believable picture of lives impacted by these kinds of tragedies.
Good Reading
[A] dramatic and dynamic novel … This is a novel about everyday tragedy written in everyday language. Clarity prevails over lyricism. Dialogue is colloquial and lively. Carefully articulated sentences give way, in moments of anger, to more truncated phrasing and, in the closing chapters, to snappier prose that creates a sense of urgency … Her skill as a storyteller and her ability to create complex and empathetic characters gives weight to her fiction and invites the reader to question her own integrity and sense of self-worth, not without compassion.
Australian Book Review
Gandolfo writes that “things that were solid crumbled” and she documents with painstaking intricacy the grieving and guilt of survivors. It is a masterful portrayal of families torn apart, searching for redemption in an unforgiving world.
Sunday Territorian
Enza Gandolfo’s The Bridge, set among working-class lives, considers the collapse of the Westgate Bridge alongside a contemporary tragedy. It’s a moving, unsentimental novel about ethical complexities.
Michelle de Kretser, ABR’s ‘Books of the Year 2018’
Gandolfo’s The Bridge is an exquisite historical novel largely set in the working class communities of Melbourne’s west, against the collapse of the Westgate Bridge – Australia’s worst industrial accident. My year, and my life, are richer for having read these books.
Maxine Beneba Clarke, SMH’s ‘Reads of the Year’
The Bridge is a stunning novel. Grave, yes, but exquisitely written, an intricate study on trauma and grief tightly meshed with guilt ... It has all the markers of an Australian classic.
Theresa Smith, Theresa Smith Writes
Alice Pung
This exquisite, moving story from Gandolfo captures the raw, wide-reaching pain of the tragedy, long regarded as Australia’s worst industrial accident.
The Herald Sun
Superb … Utterly heartbreaking.’
ANZ LitLovers
A poignant novel which examines class, grief, guilt and moral culpability, The Bridge weaves together two vastly different yet interrelated narratives.
Il Globo
[Enza Gandolfo] doesn't shy away from the unpleasant emotions of her characters, and paints a startlingly real and believable picture of lives impacted by these kinds of tragedies.
Good Reading
[A] dramatic and dynamic novel … This is a novel about everyday tragedy written in everyday language. Clarity prevails over lyricism. Dialogue is colloquial and lively. Carefully articulated sentences give way, in moments of anger, to more truncated phrasing and, in the closing chapters, to snappier prose that creates a sense of urgency … Her skill as a storyteller and her ability to create complex and empathetic characters gives weight to her fiction and invites the reader to question her own integrity and sense of self-worth, not without compassion.
Australian Book Review
Gandolfo writes that “things that were solid crumbled” and she documents with painstaking intricacy the grieving and guilt of survivors. It is a masterful portrayal of families torn apart, searching for redemption in an unforgiving world.
Sunday Territorian
Enza Gandolfo’s The Bridge, set among working-class lives, considers the collapse of the Westgate Bridge alongside a contemporary tragedy. It’s a moving, unsentimental novel about ethical complexities.
Michelle de Kretser, ABR’s ‘Books of the Year 2018’
Gandolfo’s The Bridge is an exquisite historical novel largely set in the working class communities of Melbourne’s west, against the collapse of the Westgate Bridge – Australia’s worst industrial accident. My year, and my life, are richer for having read these books.
Maxine Beneba Clarke, SMH’s ‘Reads of the Year’
The Bridge is a stunning novel. Grave, yes, but exquisitely written, an intricate study on trauma and grief tightly meshed with guilt ... It has all the markers of an Australian classic.
Theresa Smith, Theresa Smith Writes
July 9, 2019
How do you face living, forgiveness and repair in the wake of a devastating accident for which you feel guilt and responsibility? Gandolfo weaves this story with empathy and thoughtfulness under the arches of Melbourne’s Westgate Bridge. I really liked the way she drew the past and the future together and delved into these themed without dictating a solution. I imagine so many people have had to face circumstances similar to the characters in this story and find a way to continue to live.
January 23, 2019
A moving account of both tragedies with interesting perspectives on grief, coping, and resilience. Very close to home, as I have my own feelings about the bridge
May 23, 2019
A very relatable story about loss, grief, guilt, redemption, family and community. I could barely put it down, one night I read it until the battery on my kindle died. The characterisation is superb, I particularly liked Sarah, the court-appointed lawyer. The descriptions of Melbourne are spot on - I spent a lot of time in the parts of the city where the novel takes place and it was a pleasant trip down memory lane, despite the sadness of the story. Compulsive and moving reading, I highly recommend it.
March 16, 2019
There would be few Melbournians who cross the West Gate Bridge without a slightly heavy heart - the 1970 bridge collapse and the horrific tragedy of Darcey Freeman in 2009 weighs on us collectively. It is perhaps why Enza Gandolfo's novel,
The Bridge
, resonates so deeply.
There are two stories in this book, linked by the Bridge. The first tells of 22-year-old Italian migrant Antonello, newly married and working as a rigger on the West Gate Bridge in 1970. When the Bridge collapses one October morning, killing 35 of his workmates, Antonello's world crashes down on him.
In the second story, set in 2009, Jo and her best friend, Ashleigh, are on the verge of finishing high school but a terrible and stupid mistake sets Jo’s life on a radically different course.
I won't say more about the plot for fear of spoilers, however, I can say that the story moved me to tears a number of times, particularly in relation to Mandy's (Jo's mother) despair and fear for her child, made more complex by her own guilt and shame. Jo says of Mandy -
The themes of grief and guilt are explored in a number of ways - grief for those we have lost, grief for lost possibilities, grief over wrongs, survivor guilt and moral culpability - and Gandolfo ties them together in Antonello and Jo's stories in a powerful way -
There are other themes - class, shame, and forgiveness, and again, I am reminded of Small Wrongs , a book that explores the idea of remorse and forgiveness within a legal context. In particular, this quote -
Gandolfo's writing is straightforward and unembellished but compelling nonetheless. Whilst I wasn't re-reading and savouring particular sentences, my overall impression by the end was that The Bridge is an engrossing and well-written story. And like all the very best stories, it left me wondering - how does a 'punishment' fit the crime when a life is lost and a family is left to grieve forever?
4/5 I reckon if the Stella judges were all Melburnians, it would be the winner.
There are two stories in this book, linked by the Bridge. The first tells of 22-year-old Italian migrant Antonello, newly married and working as a rigger on the West Gate Bridge in 1970. When the Bridge collapses one October morning, killing 35 of his workmates, Antonello's world crashes down on him.
Another jolt; the span was almost vertical now. A stiff-legged derrick loosed from its mooring catapulted toward the river, its long metal arms flaying violently, a giant possessed. And now the men: the men were falling, falling off, falling through the air and into the river below. They were screaming, but their cries were muffled by the bridge's own deathly groans.
In the second story, set in 2009, Jo and her best friend, Ashleigh, are on the verge of finishing high school but a terrible and stupid mistake sets Jo’s life on a radically different course.
I won't say more about the plot for fear of spoilers, however, I can say that the story moved me to tears a number of times, particularly in relation to Mandy's (Jo's mother) despair and fear for her child, made more complex by her own guilt and shame. Jo says of Mandy -
She'd expected her mother's love to be unconditional - wasn't that what people said about parents, they loved you unconditionally? ...Now she knew her mother's love had limits and there were things even a mother found difficult to forgive.
The themes of grief and guilt are explored in a number of ways - grief for those we have lost, grief for lost possibilities, grief over wrongs, survivor guilt and moral culpability - and Gandolfo ties them together in Antonello and Jo's stories in a powerful way -
How did people keep living when grief was weighed down by guilt?
There are other themes - class, shame, and forgiveness, and again, I am reminded of Small Wrongs , a book that explores the idea of remorse and forgiveness within a legal context. In particular, this quote -
The moral question was not what I would do if someone I loved fell victim to a horrible crime. The moral question was what I’d do if they committed one.
Gandolfo's writing is straightforward and unembellished but compelling nonetheless. Whilst I wasn't re-reading and savouring particular sentences, my overall impression by the end was that The Bridge is an engrossing and well-written story. And like all the very best stories, it left me wondering - how does a 'punishment' fit the crime when a life is lost and a family is left to grieve forever?
She's pleaded guilty and is waiting to be punished. In her statement, she writes: I'll get the punishment I deserve, but it won't ever be enough.
4/5 I reckon if the Stella judges were all Melburnians, it would be the winner.
November 23, 2020
A tale of two families, two tragedies and one bridge. Expertly written, the shortlisting for the 2019 Stella Prize makes sense. The protagonists are like your neighbours and friends; the story feels almost too real at times - especially if you know Melbourne and Victoria well. That said, some of it may be lost to those who don't, as the city is certainly one of the characters in this novel. I learned a lot from this book and would recommend it to those who enjoy Australian literary fiction with a historical element.
December 12, 2018
Dreadfully sad story on dealing with mistakes and grief.
West Gate Bridge plays a central role to two tragedies, one real (the bridge span collapse in 1975) and one fictitious (drunk driver causing the death of a passenger). Realistic characters with a typical mix of nationalities who live in Melbourne's west.
The author has great affinity with the landscape, western suburbs layout and the working class. But it a sad, sad tale.
West Gate Bridge plays a central role to two tragedies, one real (the bridge span collapse in 1975) and one fictitious (drunk driver causing the death of a passenger). Realistic characters with a typical mix of nationalities who live in Melbourne's west.
The author has great affinity with the landscape, western suburbs layout and the working class. But it a sad, sad tale.
February 27, 2019
I’m making my way through some of the Stella Prize 2019 Longlist nominees and its off to a great start. I was completely captivated by this book. It made me think about guilt and grief in ways I had never really considered before. There’s a lot of heart and emotion. I just wanted to reach out and hug Antonello and Jo. My only criticism is that at times the text was a bit too explainy - a bit overwritten. It didn’t distract from the story but it was unecessary.
July 25, 2018
A very realistic book about the effect tragedies can have on the people affected. This novel is well written and constructed and so true to life that I felt I was living through the experiences of the many characters. The Bridge is significant as a place but also as a bridge between people. I cannot say that I 'liked' this book but I am so thankful that I read it.
March 1, 2019
My quest to read as much of the Stella Prize Longlist as I can rolls on with this one, The Bridge, based around the real life construction of the West Gate Bridge. I live on the western side of Melbourne, so the bridge is a big part of our weekly life. It’s a dominant part of the landscape of this part of the city and many suburbs sit in its shadow. I’m not from Melbourne and it was constructed before I was born so I only know vague details about the collapse of part of the bridge during construction that killed 35 workers and injured and traumatised many others.
We begin with Antonello, a young Italian migrant who works on the bridge, high up in the air. He’s supposed to be working the morning the bridge collapses but he has swapped shifts with another worker in order to attend a bank appointment and is only just arriving for work when disaster strikes. Although he wasn’t directly involved in the collapse, it affects Antonello in huge ways – survivors guilt, what would now be termed post traumatic stress disorder, he has it all. He lost his boss and one of his closest friends in the collapse and it’s something that affects him for the rest of his life. He’s not able to go back to work on the bridge when it resumes, he can barely function. It affects his friendships, his marriage, even his relationship with his children (who aren’t even born when the bridge collapses). The grief never leaves him and even though he never leaves the suburbs under the bridge, he never travels over it and remains firmly convinced that it’ll collapse again, this time due to the sheer weight of the traffic it now carries each and every day.
In 2009, Antonella’s granddaughter Ashleigh and her best friend Jo are finishing year 12 and navigating that tough space between school and adulthood. They’ve been friends for years but lately Jo has been feeling the distance with Ashleigh and she’s desperate not to be left behind. One night out at a friend’s party and coming home disaster strikes – right under the bridge. For Antonello, the bridge takes from him again. Ashleigh’s family are left devastated and Jo’s mother finds herself struggling with her feelings and reactions as well.
I found the 2009 portion of the story really interesting. Jo is 19, she’s slightly older than most other girls in her year due to a delayed start at school, so she’s the only one of her friends with their license. She’s been raised by a single mother in Yarraville and lately, they’ve had that tough teenage daughter/mother relationship where it seems like they’re constantly at each other’s throats. Jo’s mother remembers when they were close but it seems like those days are forever ago now. When Jo’s life chances forever, it puts an immense strain on their already fragile relationship. There was a brutal honesty to this – I feel like often Jo’s mother really did not hold back about her feelings and I found them to be quite reasonable, her struggle was something that felt genuine, like this is how someone should feel when someone they love has made a horrible, preventable mistake that ended in tragedy. She also examines her own role in it, her complacency and how her ‘giving up’ fighting with Jo or bringing up things that lead to arguments may have led to what happened, simply because she’s tired, she’s exhausted of everything being a battle.
Jo was a frustrating character. I’m honestly not sure how much of her reaction was just an extreme shock….and a denial? But I found a lot of her attitude really off putting and her inability to accept her role and try and shift focus to everyone, to them all as a whole, juvenile and irresponsible and honestly? Pathetic. She commits an offence that everyone knows is an offence. There are no shades of grey, it’s all black and white. No middle ground. There are no excuses for it. At all. She gets careless, blasé about things and she ends up paying almost the ultimate price. I’d say there’s one person that pays for it more than her though, unfortunately. However, it’s not something she does on purpose, with the intent of harm. And she has to live with the consequences for the rest of her life. But that’s not enough…..there will also be a court case.
If you want cheering up, this is not the book for you. This is disaster, people dying in horrific ways and people messing up their lives and others, in numerous ways basically the whole way through. I found it a very draining read, even though I think it was incredibly well written and told a very good story that I became very involved in. But when I finished it, I had to admit, I was feeling quite…..down, I suppose. So many people in the book suffer in a lot of ways, there’s a huge amount of grief and loss and pain. But I loved the story it was telling and I think it’s probably a testament to how well it was done, in how it made me feel. I really enjoyed the portrayal of Yarraville and Footscray and the like, suburbs I know well and have spent quite a bit of time in. It’s good to see the west highlighted, from the working class of the 70s to the cafe culture and changing dynamics and vibes of 2009.
We begin with Antonello, a young Italian migrant who works on the bridge, high up in the air. He’s supposed to be working the morning the bridge collapses but he has swapped shifts with another worker in order to attend a bank appointment and is only just arriving for work when disaster strikes. Although he wasn’t directly involved in the collapse, it affects Antonello in huge ways – survivors guilt, what would now be termed post traumatic stress disorder, he has it all. He lost his boss and one of his closest friends in the collapse and it’s something that affects him for the rest of his life. He’s not able to go back to work on the bridge when it resumes, he can barely function. It affects his friendships, his marriage, even his relationship with his children (who aren’t even born when the bridge collapses). The grief never leaves him and even though he never leaves the suburbs under the bridge, he never travels over it and remains firmly convinced that it’ll collapse again, this time due to the sheer weight of the traffic it now carries each and every day.
In 2009, Antonella’s granddaughter Ashleigh and her best friend Jo are finishing year 12 and navigating that tough space between school and adulthood. They’ve been friends for years but lately Jo has been feeling the distance with Ashleigh and she’s desperate not to be left behind. One night out at a friend’s party and coming home disaster strikes – right under the bridge. For Antonello, the bridge takes from him again. Ashleigh’s family are left devastated and Jo’s mother finds herself struggling with her feelings and reactions as well.
I found the 2009 portion of the story really interesting. Jo is 19, she’s slightly older than most other girls in her year due to a delayed start at school, so she’s the only one of her friends with their license. She’s been raised by a single mother in Yarraville and lately, they’ve had that tough teenage daughter/mother relationship where it seems like they’re constantly at each other’s throats. Jo’s mother remembers when they were close but it seems like those days are forever ago now. When Jo’s life chances forever, it puts an immense strain on their already fragile relationship. There was a brutal honesty to this – I feel like often Jo’s mother really did not hold back about her feelings and I found them to be quite reasonable, her struggle was something that felt genuine, like this is how someone should feel when someone they love has made a horrible, preventable mistake that ended in tragedy. She also examines her own role in it, her complacency and how her ‘giving up’ fighting with Jo or bringing up things that lead to arguments may have led to what happened, simply because she’s tired, she’s exhausted of everything being a battle.
Jo was a frustrating character. I’m honestly not sure how much of her reaction was just an extreme shock….and a denial? But I found a lot of her attitude really off putting and her inability to accept her role and try and shift focus to everyone, to them all as a whole, juvenile and irresponsible and honestly? Pathetic. She commits an offence that everyone knows is an offence. There are no shades of grey, it’s all black and white. No middle ground. There are no excuses for it. At all. She gets careless, blasé about things and she ends up paying almost the ultimate price. I’d say there’s one person that pays for it more than her though, unfortunately. However, it’s not something she does on purpose, with the intent of harm. And she has to live with the consequences for the rest of her life. But that’s not enough…..there will also be a court case.
If you want cheering up, this is not the book for you. This is disaster, people dying in horrific ways and people messing up their lives and others, in numerous ways basically the whole way through. I found it a very draining read, even though I think it was incredibly well written and told a very good story that I became very involved in. But when I finished it, I had to admit, I was feeling quite…..down, I suppose. So many people in the book suffer in a lot of ways, there’s a huge amount of grief and loss and pain. But I loved the story it was telling and I think it’s probably a testament to how well it was done, in how it made me feel. I really enjoyed the portrayal of Yarraville and Footscray and the like, suburbs I know well and have spent quite a bit of time in. It’s good to see the west highlighted, from the working class of the 70s to the cafe culture and changing dynamics and vibes of 2009.
May 26, 2019
The Bridge is a heartbreaking novel about tragedy and survival; about guilt and forgiveness.
The opening chapter depicts the construction disaster in 1970 when a slab of Melbourne's Westgate Bridge collapsed, killing 35 workers and injuring 18 others. Antonello, an Italian migrant from Footscray was a survivor. Many of his friends, new Australians mostly, were not so lucky. We see the families that were destroyed; the hopes that were dashed. As Antonello attends a succession of funerals over a few days, they blur into one. But some of the dead, now just names on a plaque, were real people who are still missed by the ageing survivors. And Antonello can't help feeling that he knew that corners were being cut. The engineers said it would be OK, but Antonello knew deep down that they were wrong.
Thirty nine years later Antonello's family is doing well. His kids have firmly entered the middle class as the Western suburbs start to gentrify. Antonello's granddaughter Ashleigh is in her final year at school - just the VCE standing between her and a prestigious university place studying law.
Her friend Jo is rather the opposite. Not that academic, a bit plain, living with her mother who works shifts to pay the rent on a house in the shadow of the bridge that defies gentrification.
A night out, a poor decision, and life will never be the same again. The decision is spur of the moment but the consequences unfold piece by piece. Nobody meant anything bad to happen, but there's a price to pay. Just like Antonello so many years beforehand, the survivors have to learn to live with themselves, their guilt and their grief. They have to plan for a future from a suddenly unpromising starting point.
The story shifts points of view several times but manages to carry this off. It gives us an insight into the guilt and grief of two families confronting unwelcome reality. It is painful to read, it feels real and raw. The linking of the past and (almost) present is done so effortlessly, the parallels clear but not laid on too thick.
The sense of place is spot on too. The Bridge is one of those rare books that depicts the scenes so clearly that you want to visit the scene, to pay respects to tragedies both real and imagined.
It is difficult to say more without spoiling the novel - but even a fortnight later, thinking back on this novel is enough to bring on goosebumps.
The opening chapter depicts the construction disaster in 1970 when a slab of Melbourne's Westgate Bridge collapsed, killing 35 workers and injuring 18 others. Antonello, an Italian migrant from Footscray was a survivor. Many of his friends, new Australians mostly, were not so lucky. We see the families that were destroyed; the hopes that were dashed. As Antonello attends a succession of funerals over a few days, they blur into one. But some of the dead, now just names on a plaque, were real people who are still missed by the ageing survivors. And Antonello can't help feeling that he knew that corners were being cut. The engineers said it would be OK, but Antonello knew deep down that they were wrong.
Thirty nine years later Antonello's family is doing well. His kids have firmly entered the middle class as the Western suburbs start to gentrify. Antonello's granddaughter Ashleigh is in her final year at school - just the VCE standing between her and a prestigious university place studying law.
Her friend Jo is rather the opposite. Not that academic, a bit plain, living with her mother who works shifts to pay the rent on a house in the shadow of the bridge that defies gentrification.
A night out, a poor decision, and life will never be the same again. The decision is spur of the moment but the consequences unfold piece by piece. Nobody meant anything bad to happen, but there's a price to pay. Just like Antonello so many years beforehand, the survivors have to learn to live with themselves, their guilt and their grief. They have to plan for a future from a suddenly unpromising starting point.
The story shifts points of view several times but manages to carry this off. It gives us an insight into the guilt and grief of two families confronting unwelcome reality. It is painful to read, it feels real and raw. The linking of the past and (almost) present is done so effortlessly, the parallels clear but not laid on too thick.
The sense of place is spot on too. The Bridge is one of those rare books that depicts the scenes so clearly that you want to visit the scene, to pay respects to tragedies both real and imagined.
It is difficult to say more without spoiling the novel - but even a fortnight later, thinking back on this novel is enough to bring on goosebumps.
September 8, 2018
This well written book is full of emotion and heartbreak as we are confronted with the question of what happens when people face tragedy and loss. Indeed, all of us face tragedy in some form or another in a personal way or just by being bystanders as we scroll the news. A bridge collapsed in Italy a mere week or two ago, accidents happen regularly and we read and gasp and comment on the tragedy and feel sorry for those affected.
The Bridge draws on events surrounding the collapse of the Westgate Bridge in Melbourne in 1970 and although I was a child living in another state, I remember it. Living in Melbourne, I’ve travelled over it too many times to even count. I know the suburbs of Yarraville and Footscray and the streets in Melbourne which are all beautifully described to make this book even more real for me.
I hadn’t bothered to read the blurb and thought the book was entirely about the bridge collapse and was absorbed in the characters of Antonello and Paolina – their young lives changed by the collapse of the bridge when Antonello, a rigger, narrowly escapes. When the author made me take the leap to 2009 and introduced me to the new characters of teenagers Jo and Ash, I began to baulk.
I wanted to know more about the bridge collapse and the lives who had been touched. Iwanted more on the bridge itself. I didn’t wait long as the author skilfully intertwined the story of Jo and Ash as well as Sarah around the bridge whose impact is much more than the collapse itself.
The relationships between mothers and daughters is heartfelt and moving. Jo’s mother’s dilemma toward her child and Ash’s mother’s reactions were skilfully portrayed. Each character in the book is well drawn.
What happens to people whose actions cause the death of someone and how do they survive and move on? This question is deeply and intimately explored and there were times when tears filled my eyes grappling with the dilemma of responsibility and grief as if I was there. Some people make mistakes and get away with it and others just have bad luck. Some take responsibility and live with it their whole lives and others don’t. And the questions roll out for all tragedies and that is, ‘What if...?”
It’s not a happy story but it is a moving one and I'd recommend it.
The Bridge draws on events surrounding the collapse of the Westgate Bridge in Melbourne in 1970 and although I was a child living in another state, I remember it. Living in Melbourne, I’ve travelled over it too many times to even count. I know the suburbs of Yarraville and Footscray and the streets in Melbourne which are all beautifully described to make this book even more real for me.
I hadn’t bothered to read the blurb and thought the book was entirely about the bridge collapse and was absorbed in the characters of Antonello and Paolina – their young lives changed by the collapse of the bridge when Antonello, a rigger, narrowly escapes. When the author made me take the leap to 2009 and introduced me to the new characters of teenagers Jo and Ash, I began to baulk.
I wanted to know more about the bridge collapse and the lives who had been touched. Iwanted more on the bridge itself. I didn’t wait long as the author skilfully intertwined the story of Jo and Ash as well as Sarah around the bridge whose impact is much more than the collapse itself.
The relationships between mothers and daughters is heartfelt and moving. Jo’s mother’s dilemma toward her child and Ash’s mother’s reactions were skilfully portrayed. Each character in the book is well drawn.
What happens to people whose actions cause the death of someone and how do they survive and move on? This question is deeply and intimately explored and there were times when tears filled my eyes grappling with the dilemma of responsibility and grief as if I was there. Some people make mistakes and get away with it and others just have bad luck. Some take responsibility and live with it their whole lives and others don’t. And the questions roll out for all tragedies and that is, ‘What if...?”
It’s not a happy story but it is a moving one and I'd recommend it.
February 26, 2020
This is a story about where I grew up, the petrol tankers, the trees in the streets, the sound of the trucks and the most poignant structure, the Westgate bridge. This isn’t a happy story but I couldn’t put the book down.
I never understood why some families never crossed the bridge, now I kinda do. Some of my school mates relatives were probably there for the collapse and the trauma depicted in this book and then the added trauma that effects a community. When I drive the road under the bridge next time I will be thinking of all the survivors but also all the people whom have lost there lives, from either the collapse and from personal reasons and accidents.
I never understood why some families never crossed the bridge, now I kinda do. Some of my school mates relatives were probably there for the collapse and the trauma depicted in this book and then the added trauma that effects a community. When I drive the road under the bridge next time I will be thinking of all the survivors but also all the people whom have lost there lives, from either the collapse and from personal reasons and accidents.
April 7, 2019
I thoroughly enjoyed this excellent novel. I was a 3 year old child when The Westgate Bridge collapsed and while I had heard that people died during the construction this was a harrowing but heartfelt account of what might have happened to people in the aftermath, the long-term effects and what personal growth and lessons might come of it when dealing with other family traumas.
I really felt very invested in these characters lives and sometimes felt like I was sitting at the kitchen table with them or sitting on the back step with my own cup of tea.
It's treatment of Australian culture and drinking culture is truly on the mark. So pleased I read it.
I really felt very invested in these characters lives and sometimes felt like I was sitting at the kitchen table with them or sitting on the back step with my own cup of tea.
It's treatment of Australian culture and drinking culture is truly on the mark. So pleased I read it.
February 5, 2020
This was a five star book right up until the end, where a perfectly reasonable old man suddenly became utterly aware of his own life's shortcomings and utterly capable of conveying the lessons learned from them to the people who needed to hear them.
Apart from that, this was a wonderful story about how people are not that good at coping with the things we expect to be normal: family, growing up, moving on. I found it clear-sighted and unsentimental and so enjoyable to read, I just really wish it hadn't been so neatly wrapped up at the end.
Apart from that, this was a wonderful story about how people are not that good at coping with the things we expect to be normal: family, growing up, moving on. I found it clear-sighted and unsentimental and so enjoyable to read, I just really wish it hadn't been so neatly wrapped up at the end.
November 23, 2020
The fiftieth anniversary of the collapse of the Westgate Bridge was the catalyst for me finding this novel. What I was expecting was a plot based on the events surrounding the collapse in 1970, but what I got was that and more. Just as the bridge spans across the river and connects two sides of the city, in this novel it spans across four decades and connects the lives of several characters. I was caught off guard by just how much this novel hooked me into its plot and had me thinking about it even when I was not reading it.
August 10, 2018
This is an excellent novel with a fine cast of believable, vulnerable characters who are all too easy to empathise with and care about wholeheartedly. The West Gate Bridge and the streets of inner city Melbourne in the 1970s as well as 2009 are the fulcrum for the extraordinary, calamitous events which impact irrevocably on the lives of ordinary men, women and families. The responses of her characters to these momentous, life-changing events are revealed with infinite care and precision by Enza Gondolfo; her detailing of the thoughts, actions and attitudes of individuals and families under extreme stress is for me the standout feature of the narrative.
Recommended.
Recommended.
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