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There Was Still Love
The profoundly moving new novel from the critically acclaimed and Miles Franklin shortlisted author of PAST THE SHALLOWS and WHEN THE NIGHT COMES. A tender and masterfully told story of memory, family and love.
Prague, 1938: Eva flies down the street from her sister. Suddenly a man steps out, a man wearing a hat. Eva runs into him, hits the pavement hard. His hat is in the gutter. His anger slaps Eva, but his hate will change everything, as war forces so many lives into small, brown suitcases.
Prague, 1980: No one sees Ludek. A young boy can slip right under the heavy blanket that covers this city - the fear cannot touch him. Ludek is free. And he sees everything. The world can do what it likes. The world can go to hell for all he cares because Babi is waiting for him in the warm flat. His whole world.
Melbourne, 1980: Mala Li ka's grandma holds her hand as they climb the stairs to their third floor flat. Inside, the smell of warm pipe tobacco and homemade cakes. Here, Mana and Bill have made a life for themselves and their granddaughter. A life imbued with the spirit of Prague and the loved ones left behind.
Favel Parrett's deep emotional insight and stellar literary talent shine through in this love letter to the strong women who bind families together, despite dislocation and distance. It is a tender and beautifully told story of memory, family and love. Because there is still love. No matter what.
Prague, 1938: Eva flies down the street from her sister. Suddenly a man steps out, a man wearing a hat. Eva runs into him, hits the pavement hard. His hat is in the gutter. His anger slaps Eva, but his hate will change everything, as war forces so many lives into small, brown suitcases.
Prague, 1980: No one sees Ludek. A young boy can slip right under the heavy blanket that covers this city - the fear cannot touch him. Ludek is free. And he sees everything. The world can do what it likes. The world can go to hell for all he cares because Babi is waiting for him in the warm flat. His whole world.
Melbourne, 1980: Mala Li ka's grandma holds her hand as they climb the stairs to their third floor flat. Inside, the smell of warm pipe tobacco and homemade cakes. Here, Mana and Bill have made a life for themselves and their granddaughter. A life imbued with the spirit of Prague and the loved ones left behind.
Favel Parrett's deep emotional insight and stellar literary talent shine through in this love letter to the strong women who bind families together, despite dislocation and distance. It is a tender and beautifully told story of memory, family and love. Because there is still love. No matter what.
210 pages, Paperback
First published September 24, 2019
161 people are currently reading
3664 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 435 reviews
December 12, 2019
5★
“They both had big faces, strong angular faces that you could grab onto with both hands. You could hang off those faces. Stone faces that could forge through anything. Faces you would never forget.
They were not delicate, but they were useful. They could withstand a lot.”
1968. Czech grandmothers, sisters, one in Prague and one in Melbourne. Young Ludĕk lives in Prague with Babi and his grandfather while his pretty young mother, Alena, travels the world with The Magician and his Black Light Theatre. He desperately wants her to stay home to live with them and doesn’t really understand why the rest of the family can’t travel outside the country. He doesn't realise that he is pretty much held hostage by the Communists to ensure his mother returns.
“Aunty Máňa was free. She could come and go, not like Babi. Not like him. They were stuck here while everyone else in the whole world could move around anywhere they wanted to.”
Young Liska lives in Melbourne with her grandfather and grandmother, Máňa, and wishes she could go to visit the family in Prague. She has seen the magic of the Black Light Theatre and met her Aunty Alena, Ludĕk’s mother, but she doesn’t understand why the family is separated when you can just get on a plane and go. Her grandparents save coins to visit Prague every few years, but Liska doesn't go.
Most of the book is told through the alternating points of view of the children, as they are loved and doted on by their devoted grandparents. The children feel so safe and secure in their care, that both trust that all will always be well.
Ludĕk in Prague:
“Babi’s hand was on his shoulder now. It was warm and solid and he felt her take it all like always – take the weight, the bad feelings. They lifted off him and sunk down into her large body. They became solid in her flesh.”
Liska in Melbourne:
“She was strong, my grandma [Máňa], and when I lay in the bed next to her large body, I felt safe. I slept so well. There were no dreams, no nightmares – and I never even thought about my parents at all, and I did not need them – just the soft ticking of the Smiths clock and my grandma’s breathing. Nothing could touch me when I was with her in that room.”
There are definite undertones of sadness about the past, but the old people prefer to look forward with the kids. The sisters were separated in their teens when Máňa was sent to England.
But even as old ladies, they were the same, kept the same kind of household with the same pictures and furnishings and the same food. Food and music play a major part in this, and after listening to an interview with the author, I happened to hear an interview with Juliet Rieden, whose book The Writing On The Wall is about her own father’s dramatic escape, being sent from Prague as an eight-year-old boy to England only the week before the Nazis moved in.
Rieden’s memory of her father are the same – the focus on food, music, and the things he valued. He always said he had no family, but her book says otherwise. But I digress.
Favel Parrett says that Liska is her and this story is hers and her cousin’s, who grew up in Prague. She reminisced about how their life centred around meals just as her cousin’s did. Everything was covered in butter and cream and sugar so everything tasted wonderful!
“GOD he loved it when Aunty Máňa cooked. Even her vegetables tasted good. Even the carrots. Even the cabbage.
Babi said that Aunty Máňa was only good because she had worked as a maid in London and she had been taught.
‘No one ever taught me how to cook,’ she said. ‘We had nothing. There wasn’t even anything to cook.’”
There is the underlying history and melancholy. Czechoslovakia was one of the strongest countries between WW1 and WW2, and the Czechs have never forgiven the West for allowing Hitler to split it up.
There are also hilarious girlish memories when the sisters get together, and the overwhelming sense is of tenderness and love and the time these people gave to their grandchildren.
The author mentioned how many hours her grandparents spent playing cards with her, and she always assumed they enjoyed it as much as she did. They certainly seemed to. When she grew up and began playing cards with her nieces or nephews (I forget which), she realised how agonisingly time can drag when you’re the adult.
It’s only later that you appreciate what people have done for you. These were wonderful grandmothers (and grandfathers), and it’s a wonderful story.
Here's the Black Light Theatre today
https://srnectheatre.com/
The interview with the author
https://www.abc.net.au/radio/programs...
“They both had big faces, strong angular faces that you could grab onto with both hands. You could hang off those faces. Stone faces that could forge through anything. Faces you would never forget.
They were not delicate, but they were useful. They could withstand a lot.”
1968. Czech grandmothers, sisters, one in Prague and one in Melbourne. Young Ludĕk lives in Prague with Babi and his grandfather while his pretty young mother, Alena, travels the world with The Magician and his Black Light Theatre. He desperately wants her to stay home to live with them and doesn’t really understand why the rest of the family can’t travel outside the country. He doesn't realise that he is pretty much held hostage by the Communists to ensure his mother returns.
“Aunty Máňa was free. She could come and go, not like Babi. Not like him. They were stuck here while everyone else in the whole world could move around anywhere they wanted to.”
Young Liska lives in Melbourne with her grandfather and grandmother, Máňa, and wishes she could go to visit the family in Prague. She has seen the magic of the Black Light Theatre and met her Aunty Alena, Ludĕk’s mother, but she doesn’t understand why the family is separated when you can just get on a plane and go. Her grandparents save coins to visit Prague every few years, but Liska doesn't go.
Most of the book is told through the alternating points of view of the children, as they are loved and doted on by their devoted grandparents. The children feel so safe and secure in their care, that both trust that all will always be well.
Ludĕk in Prague:
“Babi’s hand was on his shoulder now. It was warm and solid and he felt her take it all like always – take the weight, the bad feelings. They lifted off him and sunk down into her large body. They became solid in her flesh.”
Liska in Melbourne:
“She was strong, my grandma [Máňa], and when I lay in the bed next to her large body, I felt safe. I slept so well. There were no dreams, no nightmares – and I never even thought about my parents at all, and I did not need them – just the soft ticking of the Smiths clock and my grandma’s breathing. Nothing could touch me when I was with her in that room.”
There are definite undertones of sadness about the past, but the old people prefer to look forward with the kids. The sisters were separated in their teens when Máňa was sent to England.
But even as old ladies, they were the same, kept the same kind of household with the same pictures and furnishings and the same food. Food and music play a major part in this, and after listening to an interview with the author, I happened to hear an interview with Juliet Rieden, whose book The Writing On The Wall is about her own father’s dramatic escape, being sent from Prague as an eight-year-old boy to England only the week before the Nazis moved in.
Rieden’s memory of her father are the same – the focus on food, music, and the things he valued. He always said he had no family, but her book says otherwise. But I digress.
Favel Parrett says that Liska is her and this story is hers and her cousin’s, who grew up in Prague. She reminisced about how their life centred around meals just as her cousin’s did. Everything was covered in butter and cream and sugar so everything tasted wonderful!
“GOD he loved it when Aunty Máňa cooked. Even her vegetables tasted good. Even the carrots. Even the cabbage.
Babi said that Aunty Máňa was only good because she had worked as a maid in London and she had been taught.
‘No one ever taught me how to cook,’ she said. ‘We had nothing. There wasn’t even anything to cook.’”
There is the underlying history and melancholy. Czechoslovakia was one of the strongest countries between WW1 and WW2, and the Czechs have never forgiven the West for allowing Hitler to split it up.
There are also hilarious girlish memories when the sisters get together, and the overwhelming sense is of tenderness and love and the time these people gave to their grandchildren.
The author mentioned how many hours her grandparents spent playing cards with her, and she always assumed they enjoyed it as much as she did. They certainly seemed to. When she grew up and began playing cards with her nieces or nephews (I forget which), she realised how agonisingly time can drag when you’re the adult.
It’s only later that you appreciate what people have done for you. These were wonderful grandmothers (and grandfathers), and it’s a wonderful story.
Here's the Black Light Theatre today
https://srnectheatre.com/
The interview with the author
https://www.abc.net.au/radio/programs...
March 2, 2020
Beautifully written as always but not as good as Past the Shallows which I loved. There was something missing in this one which left me wanting.
I know I felt detached for most of the book. A good deal of the time I felt lost and unsure of who was who and how they related to each other. It all tied up neatly at the end but that did not help me during the course of the book.
And no one 'grabbed' me, not even Ludik, though he got the closest. Nevertheless it was still an enjoyable book and one I am glad I have read.
I know I felt detached for most of the book. A good deal of the time I felt lost and unsure of who was who and how they related to each other. It all tied up neatly at the end but that did not help me during the course of the book.
And no one 'grabbed' me, not even Ludik, though he got the closest. Nevertheless it was still an enjoyable book and one I am glad I have read.
October 1, 2019
What an utterly divine, beautifully written novel There Was Still Love is by Aussie author Favel Parrett. Moving, profound, I’m blown away by this book. I loved the author’s previous novels, and this one is exceptional.
Set in Prague in 1938 and 1980, and Melbourne in 1980, it tells Eva and Mana’s stories and that of their grandchildren. Ludek lives in Prague with his Babi while his mother is a long way away working, and Mala Li ka lives in the tiny Melbourne flat with her grandma and grandpa. Love; the past; the present – all link together as there was still love; always.
Although There Was Still Love is a work of fiction, the author has drawn from the lives of her grandparents, showing the kindness and love which was always present. A very memorable book which is told mostly in the voices of the two children, and which I have no hesitation in recommending highly. The cover is beautiful, with the fox having special meaning.
With thanks to Hachette AU for my ARC to read in exchange for an honest review.
Set in Prague in 1938 and 1980, and Melbourne in 1980, it tells Eva and Mana’s stories and that of their grandchildren. Ludek lives in Prague with his Babi while his mother is a long way away working, and Mala Li ka lives in the tiny Melbourne flat with her grandma and grandpa. Love; the past; the present – all link together as there was still love; always.
Although There Was Still Love is a work of fiction, the author has drawn from the lives of her grandparents, showing the kindness and love which was always present. A very memorable book which is told mostly in the voices of the two children, and which I have no hesitation in recommending highly. The cover is beautiful, with the fox having special meaning.
With thanks to Hachette AU for my ARC to read in exchange for an honest review.
July 6, 2020
*** Shortlisted for the 2020 Stella Prize ***
" 'It is home," he said, 'but there is not much freedom. There is food, clothes, electricity, but no dreams. That is very hard for some people. That can make you go crazy.' "
Reading the back cover of this book whilst purchasing it in my lunch break, I caught my breath. The blurb was so deeply emotive. And I knew it would be a tough read.
"I look up at my grandma, and she looks completely normal - her face set like stone. But then a tear, just a small one, spills down her soft powdered cheek and she does not wipe it away."
What are the reasons that cause someone to make the decision to uproot their lives and end up moving to a country on the other side of the world?
How to explain a story that is filled with so much emotion. It is is something you need to read and feel yourself. This book brought a lump to my throat more times than I care to admit.
I won't go into the plot or who the characters are. Suffice to say the book is set in simultaneous timelines in Prague & Melbourne.
As someone whose parents came from Europe to this great country of Oz, this story particularly resonated with me. The wonder of a country with such freedom, openness and opportunity. Safety. The lack of oppression. While on the flipside, the sadness of leaving family, friends and traditions behind. The difficulties of being accepted, of fitting in. Of having an accent. The world isn't always so accepting of newcomers, and ignorant people will always make newcomers question their decision. Even though deep down they know it is the right one, there is always the pull of home.
And so it is in this story.
"No one ever talked about 'before'. Not even in whispers. Photos of 'before' were hidden away in the back of cupboards. Stories from 'before' were never told. 'Before' had been forgotten, blacked out. But sometimes it was there if you looked carefully enough."
There were so many situations in the book that I recognized, which felt like a little stab to the heart. Eating food and condiments from the homeland. Having to save up - and I mean scrimp and save - to buy the plane ticket home to visit family every four or five years, if they were lucky. The expense of long distance phone calls. Remember, this book was set in 1980. A world away from today with cheaper air travel, Skype and FaceTime. I think that's why it took me so long to finish it, even though it's a short book. Not for the fact that I didn't enjoy it, but for the fact that I understood it too well, and it hurt too much.
There is a scene that describes the two sisters- who live on opposite sides of the globe - having the same gold and garnet earrings, that broke me. I'm sure many of you will understand the absolute poignancy of this.
Don't think from my review that this is an unhappy book. Yes, there is sadness through it. But there is also the strength of love, the bonds and ties of family that cannot be broken. And lots of descriptions of yummy food, and we all know that food is the great comforter. How sharing meals brings friends and family together, and creates great memories.
Favel Parret tells this story with a simplicity that is deceptive. As this book will reach in, squeeze your heart and put it back a different shape.
This is a beautiful love story to her Grandparents. They would have been proud I'm sure.
Shout out to my dear friend Collin who kept saying to me a few times 'You simply have to read this.' *Thank you*
Please read Collin's fab review...
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
"There is still love. And there is still cake, sometimes."
December 2, 2019
No amount of words could do this book justice, so I’m going to keep this review short. There Was Still Love by Aussie author Faval Parrett is a beautifully written novel. A moving story that will capture the hearts of anyone who reads it. Only a few pages in and there was a little song (verse) that I just LOVED and would like to share.
One-two-three
Grandma caught a flee
Put it in the teapot
Made a cup of tea
The flea jumped out
Grandma gave a shout
Here comes grandpa with his shirt sticking out.
I absolutely loved this book and I have no hesitation in HIGHLY RECOMMENDING IT TO EVERYONE!
One-two-three
Grandma caught a flee
Put it in the teapot
Made a cup of tea
The flea jumped out
Grandma gave a shout
Here comes grandpa with his shirt sticking out.
I absolutely loved this book and I have no hesitation in HIGHLY RECOMMENDING IT TO EVERYONE!
March 5, 2020
Longlisted for the 2020 Stella Prize.
On the cover of this book there is a comment from Sarah Winman, “A beautifully crafted book from a wonderful storyteller. It sings with humanity.”
I could not agree more with Winman. This novel is beautifully crafted. The narrative is not linear, and the way Parrett leads the reader around, slowly, like the bends in a slow meandering river, is brilliant. The narrative will dip back into integral moments of the past to help the reader to understand what has happened and why.
This is a very short novel and I find it hard to fathom how much Parrett has crammed into this book. Changes take place in time, geography, perspective, and the story itself is simply beautiful.
The narrative is about two sisters, but it is told through the eyes of their grandchildren.
It is 1980. The Cold War continues, and Russia still has Czechoslovakia gripped tightly in its icy fingers.
One grandchild, Ludek, lives in Prague, Czechoslovakia, and the other, “Mala Liska” or Little Fox lives in Melbourne, Australia. From their perspective we see how different the lives are for both families and how they each struggle on different sides of the Iron Curtain.
This novel is also about displacement, and even though one family lives away from the communist regime, sometimes from their thoughts and actions they may be the poorer for it.
“It is easy to think somewhere else is better. But when you leave home there are things you miss that you never imagined you would. Small things. Like the smell of the river, or the sound of rain on the cobblestones, the taste of local beer. You long to have those things again – to see them, to smell them – and when you do, you know that you are home.”
“I did not know what the word ‘wog’ meant, but I knew that it felt like a giant spotlight suddenly shone on my grandma to make sure that everybody knew she did not belong. To make sure she felt ashamed of her accent. ashamed of her face, ashamed of the way she loved the taste of caraway seeds in her light bread rye.”
I cannot emphasise how beautiful, and beautifully told this story is. The idea for the story to be told from the grandchildren’s perspective works amazingly. Both grandchildren, with their young minds, only have a small grasp of their family’s circumstances. This adds to the readers clouding of the full story. This enables Parrett to reveal the family’s histories slowly with quick short chapters that take place in the past.
I don’t want to say anymore because it is such a short novel and I believe it will enrich the reader’s experience not knowing too much about the narrative. Part of the joy of this novel is slowly piecing together the history of the sisters.
Brilliant. 5 Stars!
There is a great article in the SydneyMorningHerald about Parrett and the book link at my blog here - https://www.collinsbookblog.com/post/...
On the cover of this book there is a comment from Sarah Winman, “A beautifully crafted book from a wonderful storyteller. It sings with humanity.”
I could not agree more with Winman. This novel is beautifully crafted. The narrative is not linear, and the way Parrett leads the reader around, slowly, like the bends in a slow meandering river, is brilliant. The narrative will dip back into integral moments of the past to help the reader to understand what has happened and why.
This is a very short novel and I find it hard to fathom how much Parrett has crammed into this book. Changes take place in time, geography, perspective, and the story itself is simply beautiful.
The narrative is about two sisters, but it is told through the eyes of their grandchildren.
It is 1980. The Cold War continues, and Russia still has Czechoslovakia gripped tightly in its icy fingers.
One grandchild, Ludek, lives in Prague, Czechoslovakia, and the other, “Mala Liska” or Little Fox lives in Melbourne, Australia. From their perspective we see how different the lives are for both families and how they each struggle on different sides of the Iron Curtain.
This novel is also about displacement, and even though one family lives away from the communist regime, sometimes from their thoughts and actions they may be the poorer for it.
“It is easy to think somewhere else is better. But when you leave home there are things you miss that you never imagined you would. Small things. Like the smell of the river, or the sound of rain on the cobblestones, the taste of local beer. You long to have those things again – to see them, to smell them – and when you do, you know that you are home.”
“I did not know what the word ‘wog’ meant, but I knew that it felt like a giant spotlight suddenly shone on my grandma to make sure that everybody knew she did not belong. To make sure she felt ashamed of her accent. ashamed of her face, ashamed of the way she loved the taste of caraway seeds in her light bread rye.”
I cannot emphasise how beautiful, and beautifully told this story is. The idea for the story to be told from the grandchildren’s perspective works amazingly. Both grandchildren, with their young minds, only have a small grasp of their family’s circumstances. This adds to the readers clouding of the full story. This enables Parrett to reveal the family’s histories slowly with quick short chapters that take place in the past.
I don’t want to say anymore because it is such a short novel and I believe it will enrich the reader’s experience not knowing too much about the narrative. Part of the joy of this novel is slowly piecing together the history of the sisters.
Brilliant. 5 Stars!
There is a great article in the SydneyMorningHerald about Parrett and the book link at my blog here - https://www.collinsbookblog.com/post/...
March 31, 2021
A beautiful, warm reading experience. 4.5★
This is a novel of twos;
* two main timelines, 1938 and 1980
* two cities, Prague and Melbourne
* two households, connected by their twin sister matriarchs, Eva (Babi) and Máňa
* two children, Ludĕk and Malá Liška, both living in the loving homes of their grandparents
In Melbourne, Malá Liška - Little Fox - lives in the 3rd floor flat of her grandparents, Máňa and Bill. She is surrounded by their love and by the food, customs and objects that keep Prague alive for them in this new country. They save their 50 cent coins in a large pickle jar, and every 4 years (3 if they're very careful) they have enough money to buy tickets to fly back to Czechoslovakia to visit Eva.
In Prague, Ludĕk is big enough now to run all over the city, exploring, as long as Babi doesn't find out. He likes living with her in her 3rd floor flat, but his heart aches for his mother, Alena, who is abroad, performing with the famous Czech Black Light Theatre. Ludĕk welcomes the long summer visit from Aunty Máňa and Uncle Bill because of the presents from Australia he's anticipating, and also because Aunty Máňa is such a good cook!
Forced apart by war as teenage girls, Eva and Máňa live for their families and for the time they can spend together, reliving their past and making new memories in the present, while trying not to let their regrets overshadow their happiness. The visits are always in Prague because Eva and Ludĕk are the collateral against Alena's defection while she is abroad - they cannot leave.
Although Parrett has portrayed two very different worlds - communist Czechoslovakia and democratic Australia - when you look at it from the kids' point of view, it's all just the same when there is love.
This is a novel of twos;
* two main timelines, 1938 and 1980
* two cities, Prague and Melbourne
* two households, connected by their twin sister matriarchs, Eva (Babi) and Máňa
* two children, Ludĕk and Malá Liška, both living in the loving homes of their grandparents
In Melbourne, Malá Liška - Little Fox - lives in the 3rd floor flat of her grandparents, Máňa and Bill. She is surrounded by their love and by the food, customs and objects that keep Prague alive for them in this new country. They save their 50 cent coins in a large pickle jar, and every 4 years (3 if they're very careful) they have enough money to buy tickets to fly back to Czechoslovakia to visit Eva.
In Prague, Ludĕk is big enough now to run all over the city, exploring, as long as Babi doesn't find out. He likes living with her in her 3rd floor flat, but his heart aches for his mother, Alena, who is abroad, performing with the famous Czech Black Light Theatre. Ludĕk welcomes the long summer visit from Aunty Máňa and Uncle Bill because of the presents from Australia he's anticipating, and also because Aunty Máňa is such a good cook!
Forced apart by war as teenage girls, Eva and Máňa live for their families and for the time they can spend together, reliving their past and making new memories in the present, while trying not to let their regrets overshadow their happiness. The visits are always in Prague because Eva and Ludĕk are the collateral against Alena's defection while she is abroad - they cannot leave.
Although Parrett has portrayed two very different worlds - communist Czechoslovakia and democratic Australia - when you look at it from the kids' point of view, it's all just the same when there is love.
May 31, 2019
Really beautiful. Took me back to the warmth of my great grandmother's kitchen in Prague, where svíčková simmered on the stove while I stuffed my face with knedlíky. And to the aching separation, across continents and politics, that was a hallmark of those years for my family.
May 8, 2020
Coming of age story set in multiple timelines and multiple cities. The story moves between Czechoslovakia and Melbourne and shows us that no matter what hardships we endure there is still love.
January 23, 2022
“ Grandma’s hands clapped in church on Sunday morning
Grandma’s hands played the tambourine so well
Grandma’s hands used to issue out a warning
She’d say, Billy don’t you run so fast….
Might fall on a piece of glass…
Grandma’s hands used to hand me piece of candy
Grandma’s hands picked me up each time I fell
Grandma’s hands boy they really came in handy…
But I don’t have grandma any more
If I get to heaven I’ll look for
Grandma’s hands.”
These are lyrics from a favorite song written and sung by the late Bill Withers. The lyrics kept echoing as I read this enchanting novel about two grandmothers embodying love, exile and memory in very different worlds from this song set in the American South.
The novel unfolds the lives of two grandmothers, Mana in Melbourne and Eva( Babi) in Prague. They are twin sisters who have been separated by the German occupation of Prague in 1938. After relocating to England, Mana and her husband Bill emigrated to Australia. Eva was unable to leave Czechoslovakia and was forced to remain throughout the occupation and subsequent Soviet takeover. Both women have endured displacement, fear and alienation over the course of their lives.
Both women are caretakers for their grandchildren, Mana Liska( Little Fox) in Melbourne and Ludek in Prague. These two children have never met. However, their eyes and voices carry forward the stories of their two grandmothers. Narration through the children is an effective construct for conveying the history of a family separated by politics, geography and circumstance. The novel alternates between the perspectives of the two grandchildren, slowly unfolding the sacrifices the older generation undertake to provide a safe haven for the youngsters while shielding them from the political and historical forces that have altered the older women’s lives. In the process, we become aware of the cultural and emotional heritage stemming from the disruptions and displacements experienced by the older generation.
The author has created a collage of events and emotions that are unveiled in a disjointed timeline spanning 1938 through 1980. The elegant and spare prose enhances a story that transcends the historical and instead is dominated by love. The loving hands of the two grandmothers in this novel have different roots than those of Bill Withers’ American grandmother. Yet all three women share a universal impulse to protect their young and to impart the wisdom and endurance that can link generations and provide the sustenance necessary to navigate uncertain worlds.
Grandma’s hands played the tambourine so well
Grandma’s hands used to issue out a warning
She’d say, Billy don’t you run so fast….
Might fall on a piece of glass…
Grandma’s hands used to hand me piece of candy
Grandma’s hands picked me up each time I fell
Grandma’s hands boy they really came in handy…
But I don’t have grandma any more
If I get to heaven I’ll look for
Grandma’s hands.”
These are lyrics from a favorite song written and sung by the late Bill Withers. The lyrics kept echoing as I read this enchanting novel about two grandmothers embodying love, exile and memory in very different worlds from this song set in the American South.
The novel unfolds the lives of two grandmothers, Mana in Melbourne and Eva( Babi) in Prague. They are twin sisters who have been separated by the German occupation of Prague in 1938. After relocating to England, Mana and her husband Bill emigrated to Australia. Eva was unable to leave Czechoslovakia and was forced to remain throughout the occupation and subsequent Soviet takeover. Both women have endured displacement, fear and alienation over the course of their lives.
Both women are caretakers for their grandchildren, Mana Liska( Little Fox) in Melbourne and Ludek in Prague. These two children have never met. However, their eyes and voices carry forward the stories of their two grandmothers. Narration through the children is an effective construct for conveying the history of a family separated by politics, geography and circumstance. The novel alternates between the perspectives of the two grandchildren, slowly unfolding the sacrifices the older generation undertake to provide a safe haven for the youngsters while shielding them from the political and historical forces that have altered the older women’s lives. In the process, we become aware of the cultural and emotional heritage stemming from the disruptions and displacements experienced by the older generation.
The author has created a collage of events and emotions that are unveiled in a disjointed timeline spanning 1938 through 1980. The elegant and spare prose enhances a story that transcends the historical and instead is dominated by love. The loving hands of the two grandmothers in this novel have different roots than those of Bill Withers’ American grandmother. Yet all three women share a universal impulse to protect their young and to impart the wisdom and endurance that can link generations and provide the sustenance necessary to navigate uncertain worlds.
October 29, 2019
*https://mrsbbookreviews.wordpress.com
4.5 stars
‘This novel is a work of fiction, but my grandparents were very real. They taught me about kindness and gave me all the time and love I needed. They are never far from my thoughts.’
Favel Parrett, Author’s Note, There Was Still Love
There Was Still Love is the third novel penned by Favel Parrett , a strong literary voice in Australia. Parrett’s latest piece of fiction is her most passionate endeavour yet, and it represents an ambitious piece of writing. There Was Still Love examines war, distance, familial relations, sacrifice, survival, displacement and hope. Defined by stark but thoughtful prose, There Was Still Love is a touching tribute to significance of grandparents.
Strong people, particularly women, define There Was Still Love. Favel Parrett’s latest novel is a story of the bonds of love and family. It also considers the pain of separation, distance and displacement. This emotional story crosses from Prague in the late 1930’s, through to Melbourne in the 1980’s. It opens up the wounds of war and change. It sees two sisters endure the pain of separation, the loss of a home and an altered life path. There Was Still Love is also the touching story of the power of grandparents and their pivotal role to providing warmth, care and semblance to lives of their beloved grandchildren. There Was Still Love concerns itself with memories – both good and bad. It is a story that considers the full worth of what it means to feel connected to a home.
I was recently able to connect with Favel Parrett during an author in conversation event in Perth, Western Australia. What struck me about this gentle, warm and eloquent soul, was the emotion surrounding this novel. Favel Parrett was determined to write this story about and for her grandparents, it was an inherent calling. While listening to her impassioned talk on her third novel, Parrett was visibly moved by her novel. I found Parrett’s passion admirable and infectious. I couldn’t wait to delve into this title as soon as I returned home from the author event.
I did have to put the breaks on while I read There Was Still Love. This is a novel to be savoured, rather than consumed in one big gulp. The writing style is toned back, almost sparse, but it is also carefully plucked to perfection. I know that the author drafted There Was Still Love at least twenty times over before she was happy with the final result. In crafting her latest novel, Parrett locked herself away from the world and its distractions, devoting her whole self to this book. In her author event, Parrett revealed that she lost friends while writing this book, such was her determination to get this tribute to the lives of her grandparents just right.
There Was Still Love is a work of fiction, that is inspired by the lives of Parrett’s own grandparents and family circle. She consulted with her cousin Martin a great deal to inform this novel, but Parrett purposefully skipped the middle generation and their absence is felt in the novel too. Through this novel, I gained an insightful and full picture of Prague from a non-tourist set of eyes. I appreciated learning about the culture, customs, cuisine, locations, language and the daily lives of the Czech people. Parrett includes references to the history of this locale and key events. Even in the Melbourne flat inhabited by the grandparents of this novel, Prague is a looming figure, with the city’s presence felt in all aspect their lives. I thought this was a strong and defining part of the novel.
Displacement is a theme that runs right through this novel and we bear witness to the pain of separation, as well as the effort that goes into rebuilding a new life in a foreign country. Prague is still very much in the hearts and minds of the characters in this story. We learn how they have had to adapt to function in Australian society, from their changed names, accents and behaviours. Parrett outlines the yearning for home and the people left behind. It is incredibly profound.
There Was Still Love is an ambitious title, it traverses time and place, it also shifts tenses and it embodies the truthful voices of two children, among others. The narrative springs up in the form of vignettes, fragments of the past and memories that are too overwhelming to ignore. When I reached the end of my journey with There Was Still Love, I was gently touched by this grand gesture to a beloved set of grandparents. I’m sure Favel Parrett’s own grandparents would be very proud of their granddaughter’s achievements with this book, in their own special way. I can just see Favel Parrett’s grandmother hiding away to avoid the phone at all costs, and her grandfather smoking his pipe, with their ‘Little Fox’ not too far from their thoughts.
*Thanks is extended to Hachette Australia for providing a free copy of this book for review purposes.
There Was Still Love is book #132 of the 2019 Australian Women Writers Challenge.
4.5 stars
‘This novel is a work of fiction, but my grandparents were very real. They taught me about kindness and gave me all the time and love I needed. They are never far from my thoughts.’
Favel Parrett, Author’s Note, There Was Still Love
There Was Still Love is the third novel penned by Favel Parrett , a strong literary voice in Australia. Parrett’s latest piece of fiction is her most passionate endeavour yet, and it represents an ambitious piece of writing. There Was Still Love examines war, distance, familial relations, sacrifice, survival, displacement and hope. Defined by stark but thoughtful prose, There Was Still Love is a touching tribute to significance of grandparents.
Strong people, particularly women, define There Was Still Love. Favel Parrett’s latest novel is a story of the bonds of love and family. It also considers the pain of separation, distance and displacement. This emotional story crosses from Prague in the late 1930’s, through to Melbourne in the 1980’s. It opens up the wounds of war and change. It sees two sisters endure the pain of separation, the loss of a home and an altered life path. There Was Still Love is also the touching story of the power of grandparents and their pivotal role to providing warmth, care and semblance to lives of their beloved grandchildren. There Was Still Love concerns itself with memories – both good and bad. It is a story that considers the full worth of what it means to feel connected to a home.
I was recently able to connect with Favel Parrett during an author in conversation event in Perth, Western Australia. What struck me about this gentle, warm and eloquent soul, was the emotion surrounding this novel. Favel Parrett was determined to write this story about and for her grandparents, it was an inherent calling. While listening to her impassioned talk on her third novel, Parrett was visibly moved by her novel. I found Parrett’s passion admirable and infectious. I couldn’t wait to delve into this title as soon as I returned home from the author event.
I did have to put the breaks on while I read There Was Still Love. This is a novel to be savoured, rather than consumed in one big gulp. The writing style is toned back, almost sparse, but it is also carefully plucked to perfection. I know that the author drafted There Was Still Love at least twenty times over before she was happy with the final result. In crafting her latest novel, Parrett locked herself away from the world and its distractions, devoting her whole self to this book. In her author event, Parrett revealed that she lost friends while writing this book, such was her determination to get this tribute to the lives of her grandparents just right.
There Was Still Love is a work of fiction, that is inspired by the lives of Parrett’s own grandparents and family circle. She consulted with her cousin Martin a great deal to inform this novel, but Parrett purposefully skipped the middle generation and their absence is felt in the novel too. Through this novel, I gained an insightful and full picture of Prague from a non-tourist set of eyes. I appreciated learning about the culture, customs, cuisine, locations, language and the daily lives of the Czech people. Parrett includes references to the history of this locale and key events. Even in the Melbourne flat inhabited by the grandparents of this novel, Prague is a looming figure, with the city’s presence felt in all aspect their lives. I thought this was a strong and defining part of the novel.
Displacement is a theme that runs right through this novel and we bear witness to the pain of separation, as well as the effort that goes into rebuilding a new life in a foreign country. Prague is still very much in the hearts and minds of the characters in this story. We learn how they have had to adapt to function in Australian society, from their changed names, accents and behaviours. Parrett outlines the yearning for home and the people left behind. It is incredibly profound.
There Was Still Love is an ambitious title, it traverses time and place, it also shifts tenses and it embodies the truthful voices of two children, among others. The narrative springs up in the form of vignettes, fragments of the past and memories that are too overwhelming to ignore. When I reached the end of my journey with There Was Still Love, I was gently touched by this grand gesture to a beloved set of grandparents. I’m sure Favel Parrett’s own grandparents would be very proud of their granddaughter’s achievements with this book, in their own special way. I can just see Favel Parrett’s grandmother hiding away to avoid the phone at all costs, and her grandfather smoking his pipe, with their ‘Little Fox’ not too far from their thoughts.
*Thanks is extended to Hachette Australia for providing a free copy of this book for review purposes.
There Was Still Love is book #132 of the 2019 Australian Women Writers Challenge.
October 9, 2019
"It is easy to think somewhere else is better. But when you leave home, there are things you miss that you never imagined you would. Small things. Like the smell of the river, or the sound of rain on the cobblestones, the taste of local beer. You long to have those things again – to see them, to smell them – and when you do, you know that you are home.”
There Was Still Love is the third novel by award-winning Australian author, Favel Parrett. In Melbourne, in 1980, Malá Liška watches her grandparents save their 50c pieces up for their trip to Czechoslovakia. While they are gone, she'll stay with Uncle Joe. In Prague, in 1980, Luděk sees his great uncle and aunt arrive, once again, for their six-week stay with his Babi. The women will spend all their time chattering about times gone by, and he will go for walks with Uncle Bill.
It is through the eyes of these two children, and a few snippets from other family in earlier times, that the reader learns how this close, loving family was separated. A chance encounter with the wrong person changed the future. Resentment and anger are buried deep underneath the happy façade, until one day, the words are spoken. But despite how it has all turned out, there is love, much love, and Luděk and Malá Liška always feel surrounded by it.
Without resorting to lengthy descriptions, Parrett easily evokes both the era and the place. She also effortlessly conveys a myriad of feelings and emotions, but most especially, homesickness. Her characters are fully developed and do not fail to draw the reader’s empathy. The Author’s Note indicates that she has drawn on her own family’s experience and the authenticity of her characters is undeniable.
What a delight young Luděk is: “Uncle Bill had a system. He ate everything evenly so that each different food on his plate disappeared at the same rate. This included whatever he was drinking. There was never more of one thing than another, and his last mouthful always included a bit of everything. Luděk had tried to copy this system a few times, but it was no good. What if you got full and you wasted your belly space eating cabbage? You might have to leave a dumpling behind, and someone else might eat it before you found room again. It was better to eat your favourite food first. All of it. Then your second favourite, and then the rest. Luděk ate his schnitzel first, all of it. The adults got two and he got one and there were no more left.”
There are numerous echoes of Luděk’s world in Prague in Malá Liška’s world in Melbourne, delightful little surprises that really shouldn’t be, given the closeness of the sisters. Parrett’s third foray into literature is beautifully written and does not disappoint. This is a talented author whose further works will be eagerly anticipated.
This unbiased review is from an uncorrected proof copy provided by NetGalley and Hachette Australia.
There Was Still Love is the third novel by award-winning Australian author, Favel Parrett. In Melbourne, in 1980, Malá Liška watches her grandparents save their 50c pieces up for their trip to Czechoslovakia. While they are gone, she'll stay with Uncle Joe. In Prague, in 1980, Luděk sees his great uncle and aunt arrive, once again, for their six-week stay with his Babi. The women will spend all their time chattering about times gone by, and he will go for walks with Uncle Bill.
It is through the eyes of these two children, and a few snippets from other family in earlier times, that the reader learns how this close, loving family was separated. A chance encounter with the wrong person changed the future. Resentment and anger are buried deep underneath the happy façade, until one day, the words are spoken. But despite how it has all turned out, there is love, much love, and Luděk and Malá Liška always feel surrounded by it.
Without resorting to lengthy descriptions, Parrett easily evokes both the era and the place. She also effortlessly conveys a myriad of feelings and emotions, but most especially, homesickness. Her characters are fully developed and do not fail to draw the reader’s empathy. The Author’s Note indicates that she has drawn on her own family’s experience and the authenticity of her characters is undeniable.
What a delight young Luděk is: “Uncle Bill had a system. He ate everything evenly so that each different food on his plate disappeared at the same rate. This included whatever he was drinking. There was never more of one thing than another, and his last mouthful always included a bit of everything. Luděk had tried to copy this system a few times, but it was no good. What if you got full and you wasted your belly space eating cabbage? You might have to leave a dumpling behind, and someone else might eat it before you found room again. It was better to eat your favourite food first. All of it. Then your second favourite, and then the rest. Luděk ate his schnitzel first, all of it. The adults got two and he got one and there were no more left.”
There are numerous echoes of Luděk’s world in Prague in Malá Liška’s world in Melbourne, delightful little surprises that really shouldn’t be, given the closeness of the sisters. Parrett’s third foray into literature is beautifully written and does not disappoint. This is a talented author whose further works will be eagerly anticipated.
This unbiased review is from an uncorrected proof copy provided by NetGalley and Hachette Australia.
October 23, 2019
I volunteer with a palliative program as a biography writer. People tell their stories, I transcribe them. People will often say that they have 'nothing to tell'. That's never true, although I have learnt that the dates and facts about a person's life are not that important. Instead, the story is in the small details and their recollections of how they felt at particular moments - that's where the meaning is found.
Favel Parrett's third novel, There Was Still Love , demonstrates how detail tells the story. It's an ode to the life Favel shared with her grandparents - her fond memories are woven through a fictional account of twin Czechoslovakian sisters, separated by World War II. One stays in Prague, the other crams her life into a small brown suitcase and travels to Melbourne.
The story is predominantly set in 1980 and moves between Melbourne and Prague, where each of the sisters finds herself caring for a grandchild - a young girl, Malá Liška, in Melbourne, and a boy, Ludek, in Prague.
There are many themes in this book - the meaning of home, loyalty, memory - and each is explored through the complex relationship between the two sisters. Both women have suffered loss, both nurse resentments but "...there was still love" between them.
The story is told from the perspectives of Malá Liška and Ludek, and as she has done in previous novels, Parrett captures the clarity (not to be confused with accuracy) of a child's understanding of what is happening around them. She does this by bringing the child's immediate world into sharp focus - the joy of finding a coin; the anticipation of a phone call; an interaction with a dreaded elderly neighbour. This focus on detail highlights the gaps. As I was reading, I realised that speculating about another person's feelings, attitudes or actions is very much an adult thing. Adults fill in the gaps, whereas children notice the gaps - they might try to make sense of them, but within the bounds of what they observe.
Food plays an important role in There Was Still Love and the descriptions are superb - a jar of gherkins, carefully doled out; the aroma of a freshly baked bábovka; the monotony of cabbage; and drinking the cream from the cucumber salad. Malá Liška and Ludek's daily life is marked by meals but more significantly, food contributes to their sense of 'home' - finding the 'right' gherkins in Melbourne; choosing rye bread with caraway seeds; Kaiser rolls with Swiss cheese and Pariser sausage.
I thought about how food is a huge part of my own memories of grandparents - special meals and celebrations; 'helping' in the kitchen with things my parents didn't have the patience or time for... My Nanma drew little faces on our boiled eggs - a great treat when we stayed over at her house - and the eggs were always accompanied by two rounds of buttery toast 'soldiers'. At my Nana's we'd eat icy poles sitting on squares of newspaper so that it didn't drip on the floor. My Papa would offer me bites of his bread, spread with cream and sprinkled with sugar. I could go on and on but the important thing is that in talking about gherkins and Kaiser rolls, Parrett creates a story that feels intimate and alive.
There Was Still Love is a deceptively simple novel - it reads as a straightforward character-driven story but close the book and reflect... I'm sure you'll soon be thinking of your equivalent of little faces on boiled eggs or jars of gherkins.
4/5 Beautifully written.
Favel Parrett's third novel, There Was Still Love , demonstrates how detail tells the story. It's an ode to the life Favel shared with her grandparents - her fond memories are woven through a fictional account of twin Czechoslovakian sisters, separated by World War II. One stays in Prague, the other crams her life into a small brown suitcase and travels to Melbourne.
You must close up tight, protect your most needed possessions - all you can hold. Your heart, your mind, your soul. You must become a little suitcase and try not to think about home.
The story is predominantly set in 1980 and moves between Melbourne and Prague, where each of the sisters finds herself caring for a grandchild - a young girl, Malá Liška, in Melbourne, and a boy, Ludek, in Prague.
There are many themes in this book - the meaning of home, loyalty, memory - and each is explored through the complex relationship between the two sisters. Both women have suffered loss, both nurse resentments but "...there was still love" between them.
"It is easy to think somewhere else is better. But when you leave home, there are things you miss that you never imagined you would. Small things. Like the smell of the river, or the sound of rain on the cobblestones, the taste of local beer. You long to have those things again - to see them, to smell them - and when you do, you know that you are home."
The story is told from the perspectives of Malá Liška and Ludek, and as she has done in previous novels, Parrett captures the clarity (not to be confused with accuracy) of a child's understanding of what is happening around them. She does this by bringing the child's immediate world into sharp focus - the joy of finding a coin; the anticipation of a phone call; an interaction with a dreaded elderly neighbour. This focus on detail highlights the gaps. As I was reading, I realised that speculating about another person's feelings, attitudes or actions is very much an adult thing. Adults fill in the gaps, whereas children notice the gaps - they might try to make sense of them, but within the bounds of what they observe.
I did not know what the word wog meant, but I knew that it felt like a giant spotlight suddenly shone on my grandma to make sure that everybody knew she did not belong. To make sure she felt ashamed of her accent, ashamed of her face, ashamed of the way she loved the taste of caraway seeds in her light rye bread.
Food plays an important role in There Was Still Love and the descriptions are superb - a jar of gherkins, carefully doled out; the aroma of a freshly baked bábovka; the monotony of cabbage; and drinking the cream from the cucumber salad. Malá Liška and Ludek's daily life is marked by meals but more significantly, food contributes to their sense of 'home' - finding the 'right' gherkins in Melbourne; choosing rye bread with caraway seeds; Kaiser rolls with Swiss cheese and Pariser sausage.
I thought about how food is a huge part of my own memories of grandparents - special meals and celebrations; 'helping' in the kitchen with things my parents didn't have the patience or time for... My Nanma drew little faces on our boiled eggs - a great treat when we stayed over at her house - and the eggs were always accompanied by two rounds of buttery toast 'soldiers'. At my Nana's we'd eat icy poles sitting on squares of newspaper so that it didn't drip on the floor. My Papa would offer me bites of his bread, spread with cream and sprinkled with sugar. I could go on and on but the important thing is that in talking about gherkins and Kaiser rolls, Parrett creates a story that feels intimate and alive.
There Was Still Love is a deceptively simple novel - it reads as a straightforward character-driven story but close the book and reflect... I'm sure you'll soon be thinking of your equivalent of little faces on boiled eggs or jars of gherkins.
4/5 Beautifully written.
April 23, 2022
Favel Parett is a new discovery for me and our book club’s current read. Like the narrator, Little Fox, ‘There Was Still Love’ moves quietly and swiftly in its ability to steal your heart.
Yet the lyrical writing and evocative capturing of her beloved grandparents migrant life feel more suited to a short story than a slim novel. It’s all very touchy-feely and interiorised - too much so at times. A little more plot and a lot more context would have been welcomed throughout but I’m looking forward to seeking out her earlier novels.
Yet the lyrical writing and evocative capturing of her beloved grandparents migrant life feel more suited to a short story than a slim novel. It’s all very touchy-feely and interiorised - too much so at times. A little more plot and a lot more context would have been welcomed throughout but I’m looking forward to seeking out her earlier novels.
April 21, 2019
Beautiful book about families divided by geography and politics - Parrett focusses on tiny moments that capture deep feelings. Gorgeous.
September 29, 2019
I have been struggling to find a way to talk about this book for awhile. That is until, a weekend visit to see the Archibald Prize exhibition at the Art Gallery of NSW, gave me a quote to work with.
Fiona Lowry was this year's Sulman Prize judge. A plaque near the entrance explained her thinking as she approached the judging process.
"I was reminded of an interview I recently read with the artists Eric Fischl where he suggests that artists are looking for love, and they are expressing love in their commitment to what they have made.
He goes on to say: 'Love is complicated, obviously. But the reason artists do what they do on some level is to say: 'Don't look at me, look at this thing I made you and you will know the true me.'"
Judging and viewing and reviewing another's artistic efforts is a privilege I don't take lightly. I'm aware that heart, body and soul goes into most creative work. It is an act of love and trust and hope.
And an act of incredible bravery. Because once a creation leaves the artists hands and enters the public sphere, anything can happen. The whole process becomes totally subjective and out of their control.
How one reacts to art can depend on so many variables, and just because something doesn't appeal to you or move you right now, doesn't mean the work is 'bad' or that others won't adore it.
So, I respectfully confess, that I may be in the minority here, when I say that I was underwhelmed by There Was Still Love. Yes, the prose was beautifully rendered, yes it was moving (but not profoundly so). Yes, I also believe that Parrett is a literary talent, but I wanted more.
There was tenderness, dislocation and strong women but the emotional insight was, dare I say, nothing new. I kept waiting for something or someone who never turned up. Or to return to the food analogies of the last few posts, There Was Still Love was a souffle that failed to rise. All the right ingredients and processes were in place, but the chemical magic failed to kick in.
Full review here - http://bronasbooks.blogspot.com/2019/...
Fiona Lowry was this year's Sulman Prize judge. A plaque near the entrance explained her thinking as she approached the judging process.
"I was reminded of an interview I recently read with the artists Eric Fischl where he suggests that artists are looking for love, and they are expressing love in their commitment to what they have made.
He goes on to say: 'Love is complicated, obviously. But the reason artists do what they do on some level is to say: 'Don't look at me, look at this thing I made you and you will know the true me.'"
Judging and viewing and reviewing another's artistic efforts is a privilege I don't take lightly. I'm aware that heart, body and soul goes into most creative work. It is an act of love and trust and hope.
And an act of incredible bravery. Because once a creation leaves the artists hands and enters the public sphere, anything can happen. The whole process becomes totally subjective and out of their control.
How one reacts to art can depend on so many variables, and just because something doesn't appeal to you or move you right now, doesn't mean the work is 'bad' or that others won't adore it.
So, I respectfully confess, that I may be in the minority here, when I say that I was underwhelmed by There Was Still Love. Yes, the prose was beautifully rendered, yes it was moving (but not profoundly so). Yes, I also believe that Parrett is a literary talent, but I wanted more.
There was tenderness, dislocation and strong women but the emotional insight was, dare I say, nothing new. I kept waiting for something or someone who never turned up. Or to return to the food analogies of the last few posts, There Was Still Love was a souffle that failed to rise. All the right ingredients and processes were in place, but the chemical magic failed to kick in.
Full review here - http://bronasbooks.blogspot.com/2019/...
November 3, 2019
There Was Still Love is a deeply moving little novel, its story less of a story and more of a snapshot of life within one family, as conveyed through the eyes of two children: Ludek, who lives in Prague, and Mala Liska, who lives in Melbourne. Both children are being brought up by their grandmothers who are twin sisters living on opposite sides of the world. The novel alternates between Melbourne and Prague, allowing the reader to not only get a feel for this family, but also a bead on what life itself is like for each family within the place they reside. Given the novel is narrated by children, there is a surprising amount of insight conveyed, both socially and politically. Between each shift from Melbourne to Prague are memories, inserted to show the experiences of each adult character and how these have shaped them into the person they are in the present day.
“I did not know what the word wog meant, but I knew that it felt like a giant spotlight suddenly shone on my grandma to make sure that everybody knew she did not belong. To make sure she felt ashamed of her accent, ashamed of her face, ashamed of the way she loved the taste of caraway seeds in her light rye bread.”
I grew up in the 1980s, and like Mala Liska, I was, for the most part, cared for by my maternal grandparents, who were European migrants. I found There Was Still Love to be an achingly nostalgic read, sometimes almost too much so, reminding me of all that is now gone since the deaths of my beloved grandparents. Don’t be fooled by the childlike observations and daily miniature that fill the pages of this novel. The apparent simplicity is but a veneer for the depths beneath. This is, however, a quiet novel. Literary fiction that is entirely about the characters only: who they are, how they interact with each other, how their experiences have shaped them, how the communities in which they live in affect them. There is no plot, no build up to something more; it just is. You begin in the same place you end, but somehow richer for the insight it offers. I can’t think of any other way to describe the novel other than in this manner.
“Babi’s hand was on his shoulder now. It was warm and solid and he felt her take it all like always – take the weight, the bad feelings. They lifted off him and sunk down into her large body. They became solid in her flesh.
‘Okay,’ Babi said after a while. ‘Go and wash up.’
Ludek paused in the doorway. He looked at her – his babi. All those years of carrying so much. All the years of being stuck and having to keep everything going. And he knew that Babi held it all so that he did not have to. Babi held it all so that he could stay free.”
I loved how the author showed connections between the characters via traditions. Mala Liska and Ludek had never met, yet it was precious to read about them both liking the cream from the cucumber salad – little connections across space and time that can exist within families even when their members are apart, or, as is the case here, physically unknown to each other. Once again, I was reminded of meeting family members from Belgium and delighting in our preferences for the same food, prepared the same way. Meeting each other for the first time wearing the same custom-made earrings. This level of family connection is not something I’ve come across in a novel before and it was richly rewarding to discover it within this one.
There Was Still Love is a slim novel, but it’s brimming with heart and feeling. A great one for those who enjoy character driven narratives and literary fiction.
Thanks is extended to Hachette Australia for providing me with a copy of There Was Still Love for review.
“I did not know what the word wog meant, but I knew that it felt like a giant spotlight suddenly shone on my grandma to make sure that everybody knew she did not belong. To make sure she felt ashamed of her accent, ashamed of her face, ashamed of the way she loved the taste of caraway seeds in her light rye bread.”
I grew up in the 1980s, and like Mala Liska, I was, for the most part, cared for by my maternal grandparents, who were European migrants. I found There Was Still Love to be an achingly nostalgic read, sometimes almost too much so, reminding me of all that is now gone since the deaths of my beloved grandparents. Don’t be fooled by the childlike observations and daily miniature that fill the pages of this novel. The apparent simplicity is but a veneer for the depths beneath. This is, however, a quiet novel. Literary fiction that is entirely about the characters only: who they are, how they interact with each other, how their experiences have shaped them, how the communities in which they live in affect them. There is no plot, no build up to something more; it just is. You begin in the same place you end, but somehow richer for the insight it offers. I can’t think of any other way to describe the novel other than in this manner.
“Babi’s hand was on his shoulder now. It was warm and solid and he felt her take it all like always – take the weight, the bad feelings. They lifted off him and sunk down into her large body. They became solid in her flesh.
‘Okay,’ Babi said after a while. ‘Go and wash up.’
Ludek paused in the doorway. He looked at her – his babi. All those years of carrying so much. All the years of being stuck and having to keep everything going. And he knew that Babi held it all so that he did not have to. Babi held it all so that he could stay free.”
I loved how the author showed connections between the characters via traditions. Mala Liska and Ludek had never met, yet it was precious to read about them both liking the cream from the cucumber salad – little connections across space and time that can exist within families even when their members are apart, or, as is the case here, physically unknown to each other. Once again, I was reminded of meeting family members from Belgium and delighting in our preferences for the same food, prepared the same way. Meeting each other for the first time wearing the same custom-made earrings. This level of family connection is not something I’ve come across in a novel before and it was richly rewarding to discover it within this one.
There Was Still Love is a slim novel, but it’s brimming with heart and feeling. A great one for those who enjoy character driven narratives and literary fiction.
Thanks is extended to Hachette Australia for providing me with a copy of There Was Still Love for review.
March 23, 2021
This was a deeply moving story of a family separated by the iron curtain. The majority of the story is set in 1980-1, and is told from the alternating perspectives of 12-year-old cousins Luděk and Malá Liška (the latter means "little fox"), who live on opposite sides of the world. However, small vignettes from other perspectives and time periods yield additional information on the family members' earlier history. While Luděk and Malá Liška's surroundings vary enormously, there are many small parallels in their lives. Luděk lives with his Babi (grandmother), Eva, in a flat in Prague (his grandfather, Děda died some years ago) - his mother Alena is mostly absent, travelling internationally with the Czech "Black Light Theatre". Malá Liška lives with her grandparents, Máňa and Bill (Vilém) in a third floor flat in Melbourne, Australia. Eva and Máňa are twin sisters, who grew up together in Prague, but were separated during the German occupation of Czechoslovakia in 1938. Máňa and Bill save hard to return to Prague to visit Eva for a few weeks every 3-4 years, but Eva and Luděk are forbidden to leave the Soviet-controlled area.
Favel Parrett's writing is deceptively simple, and despite the sadness and struggles experienced by both sisters and their families, there is a haunting beauty to the narrative. This feeling is made all the more poignant by the fact that most of the story is related through the perspective of the two intuitive and curious children.
I found this book particularly resonated for me, as my flute teacher when I was a child aged 11 or 12 was a Czechoslovakian defector. She was a beautiful and cultured woman, and it often struck me how alien she must have found regional 1980s Wagga, as a native of high-culture Bratislava. How wrenching it must have been to have had to make a choice between seeking a better life for oneself and remaining physically close to family, friends and everything familiar.
Although only a relatively short novel, at just over 200 pages, I found There Was Still Love an engrossing, moving and thought-provoking read. Highly recommended.
Favel Parrett's writing is deceptively simple, and despite the sadness and struggles experienced by both sisters and their families, there is a haunting beauty to the narrative. This feeling is made all the more poignant by the fact that most of the story is related through the perspective of the two intuitive and curious children.
I found this book particularly resonated for me, as my flute teacher when I was a child aged 11 or 12 was a Czechoslovakian defector. She was a beautiful and cultured woman, and it often struck me how alien she must have found regional 1980s Wagga, as a native of high-culture Bratislava. How wrenching it must have been to have had to make a choice between seeking a better life for oneself and remaining physically close to family, friends and everything familiar.
Although only a relatively short novel, at just over 200 pages, I found There Was Still Love an engrossing, moving and thought-provoking read. Highly recommended.
September 11, 2021
A beautiful, warm, reading experience that was just as good second time around. Angourie Rice's childlike voice is well-suited as the narrator.
This is a novel of twos;
* two main timelines, 1938 and 1980
* two cities, Prague and Melbourne
* two households, connected by their twin sister matriarchs, Eva (Babi) and Máňa
* two children, Ludĕk and Malá Liška, both living in the loving homes of their grandparents
In Melbourne, Malá Liška - Little Fox - lives in the 3rd floor flat of her grandparents, Máňa and Bill. She is surrounded by their love and by the food, customs and objects that keep Prague alive for them in this new country. They save their 50 cent coins in a large pickle jar, and every 4 years (3 if they're very careful) they have enough money to buy tickets to fly back to Czechoslovakia to visit Eva.
In Prague, Ludĕk is big enough now to run all over the city, exploring, as long as Babi doesn't find out. He likes living with her in her 3rd floor flat, but his heart aches for his mother, Alena, who is abroad, performing with the famous Czech Black Light Theatre. Ludĕk welcomes the long summer visit from Aunty Máňa and Uncle Bill because of the presents from Australia he's anticipating, and also because Aunty Máňa is such a good cook!
Forced apart by war as teenage girls, Eva and Máňa live for their families and for the time they can spend together, reliving their past and making new memories in the present, while trying not to let their regrets overshadow their happiness. The visits are always in Prague because Eva and Ludĕk are the collateral against Alena's defection while she is abroad - they cannot leave.
Although Parrett has portrayed two very different worlds - communist Czechoslovakia and democratic Australia - when you look at it from the kids' point of view, it's all just the same when there is love.
This is a novel of twos;
* two main timelines, 1938 and 1980
* two cities, Prague and Melbourne
* two households, connected by their twin sister matriarchs, Eva (Babi) and Máňa
* two children, Ludĕk and Malá Liška, both living in the loving homes of their grandparents
In Melbourne, Malá Liška - Little Fox - lives in the 3rd floor flat of her grandparents, Máňa and Bill. She is surrounded by their love and by the food, customs and objects that keep Prague alive for them in this new country. They save their 50 cent coins in a large pickle jar, and every 4 years (3 if they're very careful) they have enough money to buy tickets to fly back to Czechoslovakia to visit Eva.
In Prague, Ludĕk is big enough now to run all over the city, exploring, as long as Babi doesn't find out. He likes living with her in her 3rd floor flat, but his heart aches for his mother, Alena, who is abroad, performing with the famous Czech Black Light Theatre. Ludĕk welcomes the long summer visit from Aunty Máňa and Uncle Bill because of the presents from Australia he's anticipating, and also because Aunty Máňa is such a good cook!
Forced apart by war as teenage girls, Eva and Máňa live for their families and for the time they can spend together, reliving their past and making new memories in the present, while trying not to let their regrets overshadow their happiness. The visits are always in Prague because Eva and Ludĕk are the collateral against Alena's defection while she is abroad - they cannot leave.
Although Parrett has portrayed two very different worlds - communist Czechoslovakia and democratic Australia - when you look at it from the kids' point of view, it's all just the same when there is love.
September 28, 2019
‘People carry little brown suitcases.’
A novel which moves between Melbourne and Prague, a novel which explores the ties between family members, the ties between past and present, the role of both love and opportunity.
It starts in Prague, in 1938, when Eva runs into a man as she is running down the street. That encounter will change many lives. And in Prague in 1980, a city blanketed by fear, Ludék is free. His Babi is waiting for him in their warm flat. His world. Half a world away, in Melbourne, Malá Liška and her grandmother climb the stairs to their third floor flat. Here, Máňa and Bill have created a new life, a life tied in many ways to the Prague they once lived in and where they still have family.
‘There is still love. And there is still cake, sometimes.’
How are these elements of the story tied together? How did Máňa and Bill leave Prague? How are the connections maintained with those left behind? Ludék’s mother is travelling outside Prague, performing with the Black Theatre, and all he wants is for her to return home. In the meantime, he explores Prague in search of landmarks from stories he is told at home. In Melbourne, Malá Liška learns about her grandparent’s life in Prague. Ludék’s mother is visiting, and she is torn between wanting to establish a new life with new opportunities and returning to the family she loves in Prague. In 1980, having both is not possible.
There are differences between life in Prague and life in Melbourne in 1980, but for Malá Liška and Ludék, secure in their homes with their grandparents, those differences are muted somewhat by love.
‘Nothing is all good or all bad,’ he said. ‘There are problems everywhere.’
I kept reading, wanting to learn more about the past, about the connections between people, about how the two sisters came to be separated by World War II, about transplanted lives and secrets.
‘Old people liked the old ways.’
This is Ms Parett’s third novel, and I loved it. This is a novel to read slowly, to consider and to revisit. She has dedicated it to her grandparents: while it is fictional, it is loosely based on both her family and actual events.
Note: My thanks to NetGalley and Hachette Australia for providing me with a free electronic copy of this book for review purposes.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
A novel which moves between Melbourne and Prague, a novel which explores the ties between family members, the ties between past and present, the role of both love and opportunity.
It starts in Prague, in 1938, when Eva runs into a man as she is running down the street. That encounter will change many lives. And in Prague in 1980, a city blanketed by fear, Ludék is free. His Babi is waiting for him in their warm flat. His world. Half a world away, in Melbourne, Malá Liška and her grandmother climb the stairs to their third floor flat. Here, Máňa and Bill have created a new life, a life tied in many ways to the Prague they once lived in and where they still have family.
‘There is still love. And there is still cake, sometimes.’
How are these elements of the story tied together? How did Máňa and Bill leave Prague? How are the connections maintained with those left behind? Ludék’s mother is travelling outside Prague, performing with the Black Theatre, and all he wants is for her to return home. In the meantime, he explores Prague in search of landmarks from stories he is told at home. In Melbourne, Malá Liška learns about her grandparent’s life in Prague. Ludék’s mother is visiting, and she is torn between wanting to establish a new life with new opportunities and returning to the family she loves in Prague. In 1980, having both is not possible.
There are differences between life in Prague and life in Melbourne in 1980, but for Malá Liška and Ludék, secure in their homes with their grandparents, those differences are muted somewhat by love.
‘Nothing is all good or all bad,’ he said. ‘There are problems everywhere.’
I kept reading, wanting to learn more about the past, about the connections between people, about how the two sisters came to be separated by World War II, about transplanted lives and secrets.
‘Old people liked the old ways.’
This is Ms Parett’s third novel, and I loved it. This is a novel to read slowly, to consider and to revisit. She has dedicated it to her grandparents: while it is fictional, it is loosely based on both her family and actual events.
Note: My thanks to NetGalley and Hachette Australia for providing me with a free electronic copy of this book for review purposes.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
October 6, 2019
Oh my, how do you begin to explain how a book can touch you so deeply. What a beautiful, beautiful novel from one of my most favourite and respected writers. I sat in the sun and cried when I finished, from the sheer joy of what transpired from the pages, the words and the heartfelt emotion of being truly loved and cared for by your grandparents and the love you give in return.
This novel is also about the choices that are forced to be made in troubling and horrible times and how they impact in the years to follow - relationships damaged and then glued back together. Seen though the eyes of the young children who are so knowing, so wise and so forgiving.
I am going to read it again soon to experience it all once more.
Just so special.
This novel is also about the choices that are forced to be made in troubling and horrible times and how they impact in the years to follow - relationships damaged and then glued back together. Seen though the eyes of the young children who are so knowing, so wise and so forgiving.
I am going to read it again soon to experience it all once more.
Just so special.
February 7, 2020
I adored this. A beautiful story of two children & their grandparents (sisters) in Prague & Melbourne. The prose is clear and simple with a light touch, but conveys much about exile, family and the impact of the iron curtain. The observations about history & forgetting resonated after reading Milan Kundera recently. Characters wonderfully depicted. I loved that she doesn’t try to overwrite it but lets the story shine through. A pleasure to read.
January 9, 2020
A classic Bookstagram made me do it read, and boy am I glad I did. What a joy. Parrett packs a huge amount into a relatively short read. I've come away feeling all warm and fuzzy, like I've had a warm hug.
May 28, 2023
Australian author Favel Parrett's Past The Shallows and When the Night Comes are two of my favourite books. It meant I had high expectations for her latest, There Was Still Love which is always worrying... for me anyway, but it certainly did not disappoint.
It. Is. Utterly. Bewitching.
Read my review here: https://www.debbish.com/books-literat...
It. Is. Utterly. Bewitching.
Read my review here: https://www.debbish.com/books-literat...
January 4, 2020
Favel Parrett’s much anticipated third novel There Was Still Love (Hachette 2019) is a slim, literary exploration of family, memory, sacrifice and culture. Informed by her autobiographical knowledge of her own grandparents and their stories, and her recollections of their lives, the novel is nevertheless a fictional tale of a country divided and a family divided, told from the perspectives of two of the grandchildren, Ludek and Mala.
The story timeslips from 1980 to 1938, from 1968 to 1942, from 1978 to 1981 to 1921. But it mostly takes place in 1980, in both Prague and Melbourne. Ludek lives in Czechoslovakia with his Babi (grandma), young and free despite the relative poverty of their communist regime. Mala lives in Australia with her grandparents, young and perhaps more free, although always considered the outsiders, the ‘wogs’; always pining for the home country. The two grandmothers, Mana and Eva, were separated as children, one remaining to face life in Prague, one migrating to the other side of the world to build a new life. Each feels disappointed and unsupported in their fate. Neither wants the life they left, but nor do they truly embrace the life they have. Their stories are told from the points of view of the grandchildren, who have grown up knowing nothing else, and who struggle to understand the complexities of their family history.
If there was a motif in this story (besides the red fox of the cover), it would be a little brown suitcase. ‘There are suitcases everywhere… They cover the country … People carry little brown suitcases. Inside, all they can hold. A set of warm clothes, a photograph of loved ones, a treasured book. They carry little suitcases to imagined safety and hope to find a place where they can put their suitcase down and unpack. You must become a little brown suitcase … and try not to think about home’.
This novel is full of half-remembered incidents from the author’s own life, combined with fictional imaginings of the lives of her ancestors, braided together to create a whimsical meditation on love and loss, on the ties of family, on the sense of belonging and on the place we call Home. It is filled with smells and sounds and tastes, with food and snow and games and cooking. It is a story of survival – the survival of being a stranger in a new country, and the survival of staying put to cope with the difficulties of familiarity.
Parrett’s language is rich, immersive, evocative and lush; it is simple and spare, poetic and rhythmic. Myths, legends, superstitions, family lore, cultural customs – all come together in a beautiful rendering of how love prevails, despite everything.
The story timeslips from 1980 to 1938, from 1968 to 1942, from 1978 to 1981 to 1921. But it mostly takes place in 1980, in both Prague and Melbourne. Ludek lives in Czechoslovakia with his Babi (grandma), young and free despite the relative poverty of their communist regime. Mala lives in Australia with her grandparents, young and perhaps more free, although always considered the outsiders, the ‘wogs’; always pining for the home country. The two grandmothers, Mana and Eva, were separated as children, one remaining to face life in Prague, one migrating to the other side of the world to build a new life. Each feels disappointed and unsupported in their fate. Neither wants the life they left, but nor do they truly embrace the life they have. Their stories are told from the points of view of the grandchildren, who have grown up knowing nothing else, and who struggle to understand the complexities of their family history.
If there was a motif in this story (besides the red fox of the cover), it would be a little brown suitcase. ‘There are suitcases everywhere… They cover the country … People carry little brown suitcases. Inside, all they can hold. A set of warm clothes, a photograph of loved ones, a treasured book. They carry little suitcases to imagined safety and hope to find a place where they can put their suitcase down and unpack. You must become a little brown suitcase … and try not to think about home’.
This novel is full of half-remembered incidents from the author’s own life, combined with fictional imaginings of the lives of her ancestors, braided together to create a whimsical meditation on love and loss, on the ties of family, on the sense of belonging and on the place we call Home. It is filled with smells and sounds and tastes, with food and snow and games and cooking. It is a story of survival – the survival of being a stranger in a new country, and the survival of staying put to cope with the difficulties of familiarity.
Parrett’s language is rich, immersive, evocative and lush; it is simple and spare, poetic and rhythmic. Myths, legends, superstitions, family lore, cultural customs – all come together in a beautiful rendering of how love prevails, despite everything.
July 10, 2019
This book is simply gorgeous. Gentle, tender and heartbreaking in what it reveals about displacement and migration, There Was Still Love is an accomplishment and an ode to grandparents the world over.
October 5, 2025
This novel follows sisters of a Czech family, who were separated by war and geography. In 1938 Prague, the actions of a Nazi sympathizer result in families packing their "small brown suitcases” and being uprooted from their homes. In 1980, the story shifts to the grandchildren of these women. Young Luděk lives with his grandmother in Communist Prague. He moves around the city as if he were invisible. Meanwhile, his cousin Malá Liška (aka "Little Fox") lives with her grandparents in Melbourne. This book is written in a fragmented style told in short vignettes. It shifts between first person (Malá Liška) and third person (Luděk). There is no traditional plot. Main topics include migration, family bonds, and the impact of growing up in different conditions. I had mixed feelings about it. I found the structure got in the way of becoming fully immersed. I think this is a case where, in general, fragmented narratives lack appeal for me as a matter of personal taste. I am filing this one under “liked it but didn’t love it.”
August 8, 2019
There Was Still Love is a beautiful and simple tale of love, family and hardship. Parrett has a skill for understated and elegant prose and storytelling. From Melbourne to Prague the reader has a window into a family split down the middle by war and circumstance. This tale looks at the strength of women across decades and countries in different situations beyond their control and how it can differ and what that strength looks like.
I loved the vivid scenes and the evocative descriptions that places the reader right there in each time and space. The first person narration involves the reader further so you are well and truly wrapped up in story. I found There Was Still Love very easy to read but it took a little fro the full picture to coalesce, which really is the beauty in this novel. A slow and meaningful ride so strap in and get comfortable.
The ending leaves the reader with a feeling and beauty and warmth tinged with sadness. I found myself sitting and reflecting on this one for a while after finishing, always a sign of a strong read. There Was Still Love further cements Parrett as a favourite Australian writer for me and I wouldn't hesitate to recommend any of her novels. One to read if you have loved her previous work and one to read if you are a lover of bittersweet tales of love and family.
I loved the vivid scenes and the evocative descriptions that places the reader right there in each time and space. The first person narration involves the reader further so you are well and truly wrapped up in story. I found There Was Still Love very easy to read but it took a little fro the full picture to coalesce, which really is the beauty in this novel. A slow and meaningful ride so strap in and get comfortable.
The ending leaves the reader with a feeling and beauty and warmth tinged with sadness. I found myself sitting and reflecting on this one for a while after finishing, always a sign of a strong read. There Was Still Love further cements Parrett as a favourite Australian writer for me and I wouldn't hesitate to recommend any of her novels. One to read if you have loved her previous work and one to read if you are a lover of bittersweet tales of love and family.
January 16, 2020
I have enjoyed all of Favel Parrett's novels without finding any of them really compelling. I still remember certain things about each one and I'm sure I will about this one too.
It is a touching story of two sisters in the 1980s, one staying in Prague under the Communist regime and the other migrating to Australia. It is also the story of their two grandchildren, Ludek in Prague and the narrator, Mala Liska ('little fox') in Melbourne. I respect what Parrett has done in this novel, drawing on her own heritage and the love of her grandparents as well as information provided by her cousin who, like Ludek, grew up in Prague.
I found this a light read in many ways, probably because of the simplicity of the language (deceptively simple as there are depths to be cleverly revealed) and the viewpoints of the children. The title says it all really - it is a loving tribute to family and a recognition of how hard it is to leave one's own country and make one's way in another. It lacked the complexity of other novels I've recently read about 'home' and 'country' but it was a charming reading experience.
Three and a half stars.
It is a touching story of two sisters in the 1980s, one staying in Prague under the Communist regime and the other migrating to Australia. It is also the story of their two grandchildren, Ludek in Prague and the narrator, Mala Liska ('little fox') in Melbourne. I respect what Parrett has done in this novel, drawing on her own heritage and the love of her grandparents as well as information provided by her cousin who, like Ludek, grew up in Prague.
I found this a light read in many ways, probably because of the simplicity of the language (deceptively simple as there are depths to be cleverly revealed) and the viewpoints of the children. The title says it all really - it is a loving tribute to family and a recognition of how hard it is to leave one's own country and make one's way in another. It lacked the complexity of other novels I've recently read about 'home' and 'country' but it was a charming reading experience.
Three and a half stars.
August 5, 2021
Another wonderful NI BV (Novel Ideas Book Voyage) book. Once again, I read about a time and place of history of which I didn't have any knowledge - Prague 1938, flee to London, or stay in Prague, or flee to Melbourne. The telling of the tale was beautifully written, I really enjoyed Favel Parrett style of telling the story. What resounded most of all is the love of family, in spite of the miles in between, in spite of differences, 'there was still love' always.
This is one of those books that I miss the characters - especially Ludek! But oh the bond of sisters!
This book is onto it's next voyage!
This is one of those books that I miss the characters - especially Ludek! But oh the bond of sisters!
This book is onto it's next voyage!
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