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Field of Poppies
Keen to escape the pressures of city life, Marsali Swift and her husband William are drawn to Listowel, a glorious historic mansion in the seemingly tranquil small town of Muckleton. There is time to read, garden, decorate, play chess and befriend the locals.
Yet one night Listowel is robbed, and soon after a neighbour is murdered. The violent history of the couple's adopted Goldfields town is revealed, and plans for a new goldmine emerge.
Subtle and sinister details unnerve : the novels that are studied at book club echo disappearances and colonial transgressions, a treasured copy of Monet's Field of Poppies recalls loves and dreams but also times of war.
Atmospheric and beguiling this is a novel the seduces the reader with mysteries and beauties but also speaks of something much larger. The planet is in trouble, but is the human race up to the challenge? Are Marsali and William walking blindfold into a hostile world?
Yet one night Listowel is robbed, and soon after a neighbour is murdered. The violent history of the couple's adopted Goldfields town is revealed, and plans for a new goldmine emerge.
Subtle and sinister details unnerve : the novels that are studied at book club echo disappearances and colonial transgressions, a treasured copy of Monet's Field of Poppies recalls loves and dreams but also times of war.
Atmospheric and beguiling this is a novel the seduces the reader with mysteries and beauties but also speaks of something much larger. The planet is in trouble, but is the human race up to the challenge? Are Marsali and William walking blindfold into a hostile world?
264 pages, Hardcover
First published November 1, 2019
9 people are currently reading
143 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 21 of 21 reviews
October 6, 2019
I was really looking forward to reading Carmel Bird's latest novel, and I am pleased to say that it does not disappoint!
The voice in this latest novel from one of our best-loved writers is just like one of my dearest friends. Chatty, discursive, and intelligent; knowledgeable about the history of the world and sensitive to its contemporary woes; warm, witty and kind. But reading Field of Poppies is not just like a long, leisurely intimate conversation with someone whose wisdom I treasure, it's also a perfect expression of the zeitgeist. (And if you want any confirmation of that, check out Australia Talks at ABC Online, to see the issues that are bothering other Australians).
The narrator is Marsali Swift, an older woman who is an irrepressible optimist reluctantly coming to terms with unpleasant truths. The 20th century was a dreadful century, but the 21st may even be worse. And there is no hiding from it. Marsali, a retired interior designer, and her husband William, still working part-time as a doctor, made a tree-change to the (fictional) town of Muckleton in Victoria's goldfields region, but the world found them there anyway.
[caption id="attachment_96783" align="alignleft" width="105"]
Eureka Tower (Wikipedia)[/caption]
Two events, she tells us right at the beginning, have propelled them back to urban life in the Eureka Tower in Melbourne. Their Muckleton house was robbed while they were on a jaunt to hear La Traviata at the Arts Centre in Melbourne, and a woman called Alice Dooley has vanished. As it happens, most of their eccentric possessions were recovered from the robbery, but Marsali still feels that her rural idyll has been violated. Her sense of security is shattered, partly because she has to face up to the fact that her sense of community is a myth. Robbery isn't just something that happens in the city, and what makes it worse is that in the countryside, it's committed by people that you know.
And while Alice was only an acquaintance, an eccentric divorcée who lived alone in the former matrimonial home and played a very valuable violin in a community musical group, Marsali feels her disappearance keenly. It is a sign that evil has come to Muckleton which in their retirement was meant to be a refuge from the meanness of city life. Marsali (though she's not religious) suggests a prayer vigil, and the community organises it, but Alice's disappearance remains an open wound.
To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2019/10/06/f...
The voice in this latest novel from one of our best-loved writers is just like one of my dearest friends. Chatty, discursive, and intelligent; knowledgeable about the history of the world and sensitive to its contemporary woes; warm, witty and kind. But reading Field of Poppies is not just like a long, leisurely intimate conversation with someone whose wisdom I treasure, it's also a perfect expression of the zeitgeist. (And if you want any confirmation of that, check out Australia Talks at ABC Online, to see the issues that are bothering other Australians).
The narrator is Marsali Swift, an older woman who is an irrepressible optimist reluctantly coming to terms with unpleasant truths. The 20th century was a dreadful century, but the 21st may even be worse. And there is no hiding from it. Marsali, a retired interior designer, and her husband William, still working part-time as a doctor, made a tree-change to the (fictional) town of Muckleton in Victoria's goldfields region, but the world found them there anyway.
[caption id="attachment_96783" align="alignleft" width="105"]
Eureka Tower (Wikipedia)[/caption]Two events, she tells us right at the beginning, have propelled them back to urban life in the Eureka Tower in Melbourne. Their Muckleton house was robbed while they were on a jaunt to hear La Traviata at the Arts Centre in Melbourne, and a woman called Alice Dooley has vanished. As it happens, most of their eccentric possessions were recovered from the robbery, but Marsali still feels that her rural idyll has been violated. Her sense of security is shattered, partly because she has to face up to the fact that her sense of community is a myth. Robbery isn't just something that happens in the city, and what makes it worse is that in the countryside, it's committed by people that you know.
And while Alice was only an acquaintance, an eccentric divorcée who lived alone in the former matrimonial home and played a very valuable violin in a community musical group, Marsali feels her disappearance keenly. It is a sign that evil has come to Muckleton which in their retirement was meant to be a refuge from the meanness of city life. Marsali (though she's not religious) suggests a prayer vigil, and the community organises it, but Alice's disappearance remains an open wound.
To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2019/10/06/f...
January 18, 2020
‘Stories never really ‘end’ but the telling has to stop somewhere.’
Marsali Swift and her husband William had moved from Melbourne to the (fictional) town of Muckleton in the Victorian goldfields. Marsali, a retired interior designer and William, a semi-retired doctor thought that life in the country would be less pressured, more enjoyable, safer.
‘In our version of life in the countryside there would be a film group and fresh air and green politics and peace and quiet and singing in a choir and reading with a book group, naturally.’
Yet, as we learn at the beginning of the novel, Marsali and William have returned to the safety of the city: swapping the beauty of the historic mansion of Listowel in Muckleton for the remote security of the Eureka Tower.
Marsali tells us how two events unsettle her and William and lead to their retreat. It’s less a narrative than a conversation, Marsali sharing her concerns about the world while telling the reader about the robbery at Listowel while when she and William were away, and then the disappearance of Alice Dooley. While most of the Swift’s possessions are recovered, their comfort is not. Being robbed in the country, where everyone knows everyone, feels like more of a violation than it would in the anonymity of the city. And when Alice Dooley disappears, a divorcée living alone, clearly Muckleton is not the rural idyll the Swifts thought it would be.
Even the book club Marsali belongs to changes: they focus now on stories about women who have vanished. Other events crowd Marsali’s mind: Alice’s ex-husband begins renovations on the house Alice lived in, and plans emerge for a new goldmine.
Was the world ever a nice place? Marsali recognises that she and William are privileged, that they have alternatives available to them that others do not. They have been able to make choices. But even so, the unsafe world intrudes.
‘Anyway, life’s a sort of jigsaw and the pieces of the picture have their own ways of drifting to the surface of the mind, of fitting together, sometimes in surprising ways.’
I read this book once, and then revisited it. Marsali’s world becomes real to me: I recognise some aspects, and wish others were different. The three parts of the novel move in enlarging circles of impact: from the relatively small (The Robbery), to the larger (The Disappearance), to the largest (The Mine). Who will want to live in Muckleton? And why? Ms Bird is a wonderful writer. A story about an individual becomes a reflection on the world.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
Marsali Swift and her husband William had moved from Melbourne to the (fictional) town of Muckleton in the Victorian goldfields. Marsali, a retired interior designer and William, a semi-retired doctor thought that life in the country would be less pressured, more enjoyable, safer.
‘In our version of life in the countryside there would be a film group and fresh air and green politics and peace and quiet and singing in a choir and reading with a book group, naturally.’
Yet, as we learn at the beginning of the novel, Marsali and William have returned to the safety of the city: swapping the beauty of the historic mansion of Listowel in Muckleton for the remote security of the Eureka Tower.
Marsali tells us how two events unsettle her and William and lead to their retreat. It’s less a narrative than a conversation, Marsali sharing her concerns about the world while telling the reader about the robbery at Listowel while when she and William were away, and then the disappearance of Alice Dooley. While most of the Swift’s possessions are recovered, their comfort is not. Being robbed in the country, where everyone knows everyone, feels like more of a violation than it would in the anonymity of the city. And when Alice Dooley disappears, a divorcée living alone, clearly Muckleton is not the rural idyll the Swifts thought it would be.
Even the book club Marsali belongs to changes: they focus now on stories about women who have vanished. Other events crowd Marsali’s mind: Alice’s ex-husband begins renovations on the house Alice lived in, and plans emerge for a new goldmine.
Was the world ever a nice place? Marsali recognises that she and William are privileged, that they have alternatives available to them that others do not. They have been able to make choices. But even so, the unsafe world intrudes.
‘Anyway, life’s a sort of jigsaw and the pieces of the picture have their own ways of drifting to the surface of the mind, of fitting together, sometimes in surprising ways.’
I read this book once, and then revisited it. Marsali’s world becomes real to me: I recognise some aspects, and wish others were different. The three parts of the novel move in enlarging circles of impact: from the relatively small (The Robbery), to the larger (The Disappearance), to the largest (The Mine). Who will want to live in Muckleton? And why? Ms Bird is a wonderful writer. A story about an individual becomes a reflection on the world.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
July 3, 2021
Marsali and her husband William are keen for a tree change and move from Melbourne to the fictional town of Muckleton. There they find their dream house Listowel, a beautiful historical house.
However the dream sours when their house is burgled one night and then a neighbour vanishes and appears to have been murdered. To top it all off, plans for a new goldmine are unveiled and the road behind their home becomes a noisy dust bowl. Marsali and William are left feeling that the dream has been tarnished and they decide to move back to Melbourne (this isn’t a spoiler - it’s revealed right at the beginning).
This book is written in quite an experimental format and almost reads a bit like a memoir written by Marsali, with some short musings from William thrown in. It veers sharply off onto many different tangents, with quite a lot of random commentary on both art and literature, which may definitely be of interest to some readers.
Although I am always open to reading stories that follow an unconventional structure, or an experimental style of writing, unfortunately this book was just not for me. I can only liken it to being cornered by Great-Aunt Maud at a family gathering and having to sit for hours as she waffles on about people I don’t know and things I have no interest in 😆
Whilst the basic outline of the story was definitely of interest to me, the execution and the wild tangents made me feel a bit delirious 😆 and diluted the storyline for me. ⭐️⭐️/5.
However the dream sours when their house is burgled one night and then a neighbour vanishes and appears to have been murdered. To top it all off, plans for a new goldmine are unveiled and the road behind their home becomes a noisy dust bowl. Marsali and William are left feeling that the dream has been tarnished and they decide to move back to Melbourne (this isn’t a spoiler - it’s revealed right at the beginning).
This book is written in quite an experimental format and almost reads a bit like a memoir written by Marsali, with some short musings from William thrown in. It veers sharply off onto many different tangents, with quite a lot of random commentary on both art and literature, which may definitely be of interest to some readers.
Although I am always open to reading stories that follow an unconventional structure, or an experimental style of writing, unfortunately this book was just not for me. I can only liken it to being cornered by Great-Aunt Maud at a family gathering and having to sit for hours as she waffles on about people I don’t know and things I have no interest in 😆
Whilst the basic outline of the story was definitely of interest to me, the execution and the wild tangents made me feel a bit delirious 😆 and diluted the storyline for me. ⭐️⭐️/5.
April 3, 2020
I really struggled to finish this book. I found it too all over the place and not particularly interesting. I skim read most of the book to get through it. The through story feels almost secondary to what I would call ramblings about art, literature and nature. All very valid but, for me, it made the book lack cohesion and clarity and thereby reduced my interest.
December 31, 2019
I had heard of author Carmel Bird of course, but I had not read her work until now. Her latest novel Field of Poppies (Transit Lounge 2019) is a literary wonder (and isn’t Transit Lounge producing some great literature?)
Field of Poppies is an almost dreamlike account of the events surrounding the lives of Marsali Swift and her husband William when they embark on a tree-change lifestyle and move into Listowel, an historic mansion in the quiet town of Muckleton in rural Victoria. The plot threaded through the book is compelling: a robbery at Listowel; a local woman gone missing; fatal accidents with cars and kangaroos; and towards the end, a resolution to an ongoing mystery. Against this is the backdrop of the development of Muckleton itself – plans for the prosperity of a new goldmine bring noise, dust and disgruntlement amongst the locals. And going back even further is the local history – the previous gold rush days, and before that, the invasion of the Indigenous land, the loss of culture, the terrible massacres of Aboriginal people. This narrative drives the story but is itself shrouded in the most beautiful literary language, evocative images, imaginative scenarios and poignant character vignettes.
The title refers to Monet’s famous painting. Marsali and William own a replica painted by Marsali’s aunt. It’s a very good copy and returns again and again throughout the story – poppies as symbols of war and loss, of beauty and grief, of sacrifice.
Told in the first person from Marsali’s perspective, but interspersed with William’s own WWW (William’s Wise Words), which are pertinent pieces of information or history captured with a flourish, the story is on one level a gentle depiction of their new life in the country, where they read books (and Marsali joins a bookclub which becomes pivotal to the story), enjoy their extensive garden, play chess and generally become part of the community. Local characters are introduced with one or two fascinating details, so that we feel ourselves drawn into this town and its people as if being immersed in a warm bath. The dialogue is pitch-perfect, sharp and true.
The book explores contemporary world problems such as climate change, dispossession, colonisation and the loss of resources with wit, wisdom, humour and a slightly satirical bent. There are many references to modern (and recent) Australian events and to our literary history, which pop up in surprising ways … just when you think you are in the middle of a sleepy English village (aka Midsummer Murders) you are yanked back into the midst of Australian life and sensibilities, Australian folklore and history, Australian customs and dilemmas. It is ironic and subtle, complex and engaging, timely and dreamlike, examining art, science, history and literature with a roving eye, full of fascinating facts and keen speculation. It’s about Alice in Wonderland and Picnic at Hanging Rock, about Monet and flowers, myths and mining, extinctions and death, chaos and plastic and time, legends and elephants, bones and poems and witches, mental illness and thieves and volcanoes and museums and the critique of art. It’s about disappearance and guilt and beautifully-handcrafted quilts; about vigils and discovered bones and violins.
The novel is a stunning hardback edition adorned with bright red poppies. It asks the question: what could be hidden beneath the poppy fields? A wondrous and breathtaking read with words that sing from the pages and transport the reader to an alternative universe. Embarking on the journey of this novel is like entering a dream-state and simply going with the flow, not knowing how, when or where you will end up or why you are there. Highly literary yet at the same time very accessible.
Field of Poppies is an almost dreamlike account of the events surrounding the lives of Marsali Swift and her husband William when they embark on a tree-change lifestyle and move into Listowel, an historic mansion in the quiet town of Muckleton in rural Victoria. The plot threaded through the book is compelling: a robbery at Listowel; a local woman gone missing; fatal accidents with cars and kangaroos; and towards the end, a resolution to an ongoing mystery. Against this is the backdrop of the development of Muckleton itself – plans for the prosperity of a new goldmine bring noise, dust and disgruntlement amongst the locals. And going back even further is the local history – the previous gold rush days, and before that, the invasion of the Indigenous land, the loss of culture, the terrible massacres of Aboriginal people. This narrative drives the story but is itself shrouded in the most beautiful literary language, evocative images, imaginative scenarios and poignant character vignettes.
The title refers to Monet’s famous painting. Marsali and William own a replica painted by Marsali’s aunt. It’s a very good copy and returns again and again throughout the story – poppies as symbols of war and loss, of beauty and grief, of sacrifice.
Told in the first person from Marsali’s perspective, but interspersed with William’s own WWW (William’s Wise Words), which are pertinent pieces of information or history captured with a flourish, the story is on one level a gentle depiction of their new life in the country, where they read books (and Marsali joins a bookclub which becomes pivotal to the story), enjoy their extensive garden, play chess and generally become part of the community. Local characters are introduced with one or two fascinating details, so that we feel ourselves drawn into this town and its people as if being immersed in a warm bath. The dialogue is pitch-perfect, sharp and true.
The book explores contemporary world problems such as climate change, dispossession, colonisation and the loss of resources with wit, wisdom, humour and a slightly satirical bent. There are many references to modern (and recent) Australian events and to our literary history, which pop up in surprising ways … just when you think you are in the middle of a sleepy English village (aka Midsummer Murders) you are yanked back into the midst of Australian life and sensibilities, Australian folklore and history, Australian customs and dilemmas. It is ironic and subtle, complex and engaging, timely and dreamlike, examining art, science, history and literature with a roving eye, full of fascinating facts and keen speculation. It’s about Alice in Wonderland and Picnic at Hanging Rock, about Monet and flowers, myths and mining, extinctions and death, chaos and plastic and time, legends and elephants, bones and poems and witches, mental illness and thieves and volcanoes and museums and the critique of art. It’s about disappearance and guilt and beautifully-handcrafted quilts; about vigils and discovered bones and violins.
The novel is a stunning hardback edition adorned with bright red poppies. It asks the question: what could be hidden beneath the poppy fields? A wondrous and breathtaking read with words that sing from the pages and transport the reader to an alternative universe. Embarking on the journey of this novel is like entering a dream-state and simply going with the flow, not knowing how, when or where you will end up or why you are there. Highly literary yet at the same time very accessible.
February 29, 2020
There are some writers whose personalities shine through so strongly that I have taken to characterising them in just a word or two. Jane Austen, for example, I think of as wickedly witty, and Helen Garner as heartbreakingly honest. Carmel Bird is another of these. I describe her as seriously cheeky, by which I don’t mean she is really cheeky, but that there’s seriousness beneath her surface cheekiness. The cheekiness makes me chuckle, but ruefully, suspiciously so, because I know that waiting nearby is very often a skewer of some sort. Her latest novel, Field of poppies, is no exception. Even the title is paradoxical, alluding as it does to both Monet’s pretty painting, Field of poppies in Argenteuil 1873, and the poppy fields of Flanders.
[...]
The novel is told first person by retired interior designer Marsali Swift who, with her husband, the semi-retired doctor William, made a tree-change to the perfectly named, prosperous ex-goldfields town of Muckleton. I mean, Muckleton! That suggests something too, doesn’t it? However, in the opening paragraph, Marsali also tells us that she and William had given up their country idyll after seven years and now live in a high-rise apartment in Melbourne, called, ironically, the Eureka. The tree-change hadn’t met their expectations, because of two events, a robbery at their loved home Listowel, and the mysterious disappearance of local eccentric musician, Alice Dooley. The arrival of a new gold-mine doesn’t help, either, with its disruptions and environmental threat.... For my complete review, please check my blog: https://whisperinggums.com/2020/02/27...
[...]
The novel is told first person by retired interior designer Marsali Swift who, with her husband, the semi-retired doctor William, made a tree-change to the perfectly named, prosperous ex-goldfields town of Muckleton. I mean, Muckleton! That suggests something too, doesn’t it? However, in the opening paragraph, Marsali also tells us that she and William had given up their country idyll after seven years and now live in a high-rise apartment in Melbourne, called, ironically, the Eureka. The tree-change hadn’t met their expectations, because of two events, a robbery at their loved home Listowel, and the mysterious disappearance of local eccentric musician, Alice Dooley. The arrival of a new gold-mine doesn’t help, either, with its disruptions and environmental threat.... For my complete review, please check my blog: https://whisperinggums.com/2020/02/27...
December 13, 2019
Well written and well drawn characters. Not sure if I like the format, but that's just MHO.
June 3, 2020
Enchanting, original, quirky – words that sum up the work of Carmel Bird. A spellbinding stylist, she first knocked my socks off with The Red Shoes (1998), a novel as dark as the fairytale that inspired it, minus the latter’s patriarchal morality (one of the targets in her sights, along with psychiatry). Narrated by a guardian angel fond of footnotes before they were common, The Red Shoes came with a CD-ROM.
Dazzled by Bird’s inventiveness, I read the rest of the trilogy that begins with The White Garden and ends with Cape Grimm, as well as a short-story collection and her how-to handbook, Dear Writer. So, OK, I approached Field of Poppies with high expectations. And I anticipated a mystery – though now, rereading the blurb I thought had been so misleading, I can appreciate just how artful it is. (Did Bird devise it herself?) Because the main plot points, such as they are (and which sounded intriguing), never amount to more than an excuse for the narrator, Marsali Swift, a retired interior designer (a version of the book’s ideal reader?), to ramble on at length about an Impressionist painting, her precious possessions and other bourgeois fixations.
Prefaces and prologues in novels went out of vogue some time ago, with today’s fickle reader preferring fiction that cuts to the chase. Yet Bird, who revels in quaint old conventions and novelties alike, opens with an arresting poetic preface that evokes fairytales, biblical prophecy, ads, news headlines and Google searches. Dancing between past and present tense, her inventory of a world in chaos both mirrors and challenges the reader’s dissociation. This is satire at its finest and, having read it online, I was sold.
And the set-up that follows seemed promising. Affluent middleclass boomers trade urban life for rural, only to grow progressively disillusioned by robbery, murder and a mining company ripping up the local landscape for gold. But I soon grew disillusioned too.
Bird’s breaking up of the text with subheadings, which makes it more accessible (like signposted paths in a national park?), is a postmodern-style device often found in short stories, geared for short attention spans. But 240 pages of this chatty format got monotonous. Marsali, with her PC charm and flair for free-associating (typical of Bird’s narrators), isn’t someone we ever get close to. Nor does she appear changed, at the novel’s end, by her country sojourn. So I couldn’t feel concerned about the crimes that taint her idyll; rather, I felt cornered by a dotty octogenarian aunt. That folk like Marsali exist is indisputable. But are they equipped to carry a full-length first-person narrative? Why entrust the revelation of grim truths lurking beneath surface beauty to such a superficial character? Is this inspired structural irony or is something missing? Bird’s undimmed descriptive powers make for a rapturous read at best. Yet after all that admittedly witty wittering, I’m left with a slag heap of whimsy.
Dazzled by Bird’s inventiveness, I read the rest of the trilogy that begins with The White Garden and ends with Cape Grimm, as well as a short-story collection and her how-to handbook, Dear Writer. So, OK, I approached Field of Poppies with high expectations. And I anticipated a mystery – though now, rereading the blurb I thought had been so misleading, I can appreciate just how artful it is. (Did Bird devise it herself?) Because the main plot points, such as they are (and which sounded intriguing), never amount to more than an excuse for the narrator, Marsali Swift, a retired interior designer (a version of the book’s ideal reader?), to ramble on at length about an Impressionist painting, her precious possessions and other bourgeois fixations.
Prefaces and prologues in novels went out of vogue some time ago, with today’s fickle reader preferring fiction that cuts to the chase. Yet Bird, who revels in quaint old conventions and novelties alike, opens with an arresting poetic preface that evokes fairytales, biblical prophecy, ads, news headlines and Google searches. Dancing between past and present tense, her inventory of a world in chaos both mirrors and challenges the reader’s dissociation. This is satire at its finest and, having read it online, I was sold.
And the set-up that follows seemed promising. Affluent middleclass boomers trade urban life for rural, only to grow progressively disillusioned by robbery, murder and a mining company ripping up the local landscape for gold. But I soon grew disillusioned too.
Bird’s breaking up of the text with subheadings, which makes it more accessible (like signposted paths in a national park?), is a postmodern-style device often found in short stories, geared for short attention spans. But 240 pages of this chatty format got monotonous. Marsali, with her PC charm and flair for free-associating (typical of Bird’s narrators), isn’t someone we ever get close to. Nor does she appear changed, at the novel’s end, by her country sojourn. So I couldn’t feel concerned about the crimes that taint her idyll; rather, I felt cornered by a dotty octogenarian aunt. That folk like Marsali exist is indisputable. But are they equipped to carry a full-length first-person narrative? Why entrust the revelation of grim truths lurking beneath surface beauty to such a superficial character? Is this inspired structural irony or is something missing? Bird’s undimmed descriptive powers make for a rapturous read at best. Yet after all that admittedly witty wittering, I’m left with a slag heap of whimsy.
August 2, 2020
Marsali Swift and her husband William have returned to Melbourne after what they hoped would be a permanent retirement tree change to the quaint property of Listowel, in the Victorian Goldfields township of Muckleton. They hoped for a quiet life full of rural splendour, delightful book clubs and country charm. Instead they become victims of a theft, a neighbour goes missing - presumed murdered, and they uncover disturbing facts about their little town’s violent past.
The style of writing is somewhat unusual, especially for the genre, and it may not appeal to all readers. The novel is set out in a journal/memoir style and is a combination of recollections of the events interspersed with random thoughts and observations relating to art, history, politics, the environment, literature and science. It’s kind of like being stuck next to Great Aunt Clara at a wedding after she’s had too many glasses of sherry. It is charming, confusing, informative and irritating all at the same time. Part of you want to leave the table, and part of you can’t drag yourself away.
The style of the novel allows for extensive descriptions of character and places. One can readily visualise Muckleton, its quaint streets and landmarks and eclectic mix of locals. It is worth pushing through to the end, even if the writing doesn’t set readily with you.
“Field of Dreams” by Carmel Bird will either earn a place in your top ten for the year or be left unfinished. Reader’s choice.
I received a free copy of this book through Sisters in Crime - Australia, in exchange for a fair and honest review.
The style of writing is somewhat unusual, especially for the genre, and it may not appeal to all readers. The novel is set out in a journal/memoir style and is a combination of recollections of the events interspersed with random thoughts and observations relating to art, history, politics, the environment, literature and science. It’s kind of like being stuck next to Great Aunt Clara at a wedding after she’s had too many glasses of sherry. It is charming, confusing, informative and irritating all at the same time. Part of you want to leave the table, and part of you can’t drag yourself away.
The style of the novel allows for extensive descriptions of character and places. One can readily visualise Muckleton, its quaint streets and landmarks and eclectic mix of locals. It is worth pushing through to the end, even if the writing doesn’t set readily with you.
“Field of Dreams” by Carmel Bird will either earn a place in your top ten for the year or be left unfinished. Reader’s choice.
I received a free copy of this book through Sisters in Crime - Australia, in exchange for a fair and honest review.
January 3, 2020
This one didn’t resonate with me. Too much rambling on about side issues. I was interested in the town and the impact of the mine, and the disappearance of Alice, but there seemed to be an awful lot of irrelevant information. This just wasn’t my sort of book, or maybe I just didn’t get the point.
November 23, 2020
And to think I almost decided not to read this.
February 20, 2020
Didn’t finish it, just wasn’t going anywhere. Not a fan of epistolary books
December 28, 2023
I did not finish this book but it warranted a review. Reading this felt like chatting to someone else’s grandparents - they’re trying to tell one story but end up inexplicably lost on a tangent about someone or something you don’t particularly care about. 100 pages in the two inciting incidents had only just happened - of which probably 20 pages in total were dedicated. The rest were ruminations about art, reminiscences of the narrator, charming but irritating fact sections from the narrator’s husband, and other seemingly irrelevant comments. I’m sure that this writing style would be charming to some, but I found it ruined any of the genuine enjoyment or anticipation I would’ve found from this book. The dramatic tension just wasn’t there.
I only give this book two stars because of the quality of the prose - while rambling, it was nicely descriptive and painted a vivid picture of what the author was trying to communicate. I just wish it had been inserted in more of a story. Perhaps this style would be better for someone older, but I just found it tedious.
I had been intrigued by this title for a long time and I’m glad I read it so I can finally shelve it for good. Good riddance.
I only give this book two stars because of the quality of the prose - while rambling, it was nicely descriptive and painted a vivid picture of what the author was trying to communicate. I just wish it had been inserted in more of a story. Perhaps this style would be better for someone older, but I just found it tedious.
I had been intrigued by this title for a long time and I’m glad I read it so I can finally shelve it for good. Good riddance.
May 17, 2020
Erudite and expansive
I loved the breadth of this book, while at the same time it is a short-ish read. We the reader were given access to the mind of the narrator, as if in a journal....the story unfolds coloured by her own quirks, foibles and personality as much as the events themselves. It was an intimate narrative.
The device of introducing the husbands thoughts through the book was successful...the story is very much a shared one.
I was impressed with the way the book was structured, not so linear, somewhat tangential but not messy. This scattered plot line actually added to the intimacy even though the plot is far from cozy - it felt like the narrator was really getting this story off her chest and we were helping her unburden herself just by reading. I liked this storyteller.
I have recommended this book widely and I am looking forward to reading other works by this writer.
I loved the breadth of this book, while at the same time it is a short-ish read. We the reader were given access to the mind of the narrator, as if in a journal....the story unfolds coloured by her own quirks, foibles and personality as much as the events themselves. It was an intimate narrative.
The device of introducing the husbands thoughts through the book was successful...the story is very much a shared one.
I was impressed with the way the book was structured, not so linear, somewhat tangential but not messy. This scattered plot line actually added to the intimacy even though the plot is far from cozy - it felt like the narrator was really getting this story off her chest and we were helping her unburden herself just by reading. I liked this storyteller.
I have recommended this book widely and I am looking forward to reading other works by this writer.
February 9, 2022
‘Somewhere in the middle of nowhere we stopped by the side of the road to pee. The middle of nowhere. Everything has become the middle of nowhere. Ever since that night, I have lived in the middle of nowhere.’ P.226
This quote in relation to an event that uncouples the narrator of this chapter from all her social ties, bar one. An action that casts her outside of time and society, even though she lives by a clock and in a city. Birds writing is at its best in these sudden plunges into universal experience - loneliness, love, wry humour, sudden existential dread. There are plenty of them here amongst the flotsam and jetsam of thoughts, conversations, moments, characters and events.
The loose plotting is hard to get used to and the narrator seems self indulgent, chatty, skipping one event and thought to the next. Don’t let it fool you. There are interesting underlying themes of belonging and safety, responsibility and big life choices, the inevitability of change.
This quote in relation to an event that uncouples the narrator of this chapter from all her social ties, bar one. An action that casts her outside of time and society, even though she lives by a clock and in a city. Birds writing is at its best in these sudden plunges into universal experience - loneliness, love, wry humour, sudden existential dread. There are plenty of them here amongst the flotsam and jetsam of thoughts, conversations, moments, characters and events.
The loose plotting is hard to get used to and the narrator seems self indulgent, chatty, skipping one event and thought to the next. Don’t let it fool you. There are interesting underlying themes of belonging and safety, responsibility and big life choices, the inevitability of change.
January 5, 2022
Don't rule this book out before you give it a really good try. I wan't 100% sure I was going to read it or enjoy it if I kept going but I'm really glad it made it onto my Goodreads 'Read' list. The style of story telling is rather unusual and a little random at time but once you get into the rhythm it's rather enjoyable. While Carmel Bird has a beautiful way of using words, she also has an ability to weave literature, art, botany, architecture, history and geography into the plot of the novel to tell the story of 'Muckleton' and some of its local residents. I'm not sure if I would have like it if this style of writing went on for 500 pages but I think it worked well enough in what I consider is a relatively short novel - less than 250 pages. I'm now intrigued to read another of Carmel Bird's books to compare her writing and hopefully find a new author I enjoy.
October 26, 2021
On the positive side, the structure of this book is interesting as it uses a journal like format with cutesy asides that give more information about the topic being discussed. There are also some interesting descriptions of paintings.
Unfortunately I don’t really think there is much of a story here. The main narrative is highly disjointed and whilst that could be in the nature of the protagonist, I was not convinced. One narrative that occurs at the beginning of the book is highly underdeveloped ( the robbery) as is the field of poppies itself- the significance of which was lost on me. Finally another narrative ( the disappearance) is ended in a comical fashion that plays in with the style but feels somewhat dissatisfying.
Unfortunately I don’t really think there is much of a story here. The main narrative is highly disjointed and whilst that could be in the nature of the protagonist, I was not convinced. One narrative that occurs at the beginning of the book is highly underdeveloped ( the robbery) as is the field of poppies itself- the significance of which was lost on me. Finally another narrative ( the disappearance) is ended in a comical fashion that plays in with the style but feels somewhat dissatisfying.
August 2, 2020
I found this book a little difficult to get into. The writing style was rambling filled with random and, at times disconnected thoughts. However, there was a mystery to be resolved and I read to the end and I’m glad that I did. This was not really my kind of book due mainly to the writing style. As an Australian novel I would have appreciated a greater focus on what made Muckleton an Australian town and the characters uniquely Australian.
March 20, 2021
It took me a while to get 'into' this book. I couple of times I gave up. Once I gave it the time, I saw the gem that it is. So gentle, so interwoven, so thorough. Beautiful, loving, evocative. It's the sort of book that can be read more than once. I won't return to it immediately, but I like to think I will if ever I visit Paris and can see the original Monet namesake.
February 14, 2020
Reading this book is like sitting down with your best friend, talking about art and literature and sharing some friendly gossip. The details are exquisite, her descriptions of the landscape are particularly beautiful.
December 22, 2019
Carmel Bird is not for everyone, but I love her brand of black (very black in this book) humour. The book tells of a small town impacted by change and a middle-aged/elderly couple who go there to live.
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