In her debut novel Cherry Beach, McPhee-Browne has drawn an intimate portrait of a close friendship between young women, which will leave you aching. In a short number of pages, she has spun a rich emotional landscape anchored in moments of intense physicality. Readers should note triggers for suicide, psychotic episodes, and allusions to domestic violence and emotional and sexual abuse, as well as drug use.
Melburnians Ness and Hetty fulfil a teenage promise to move to the other side of the world together, "to become better, more alive versions of ourselves." They end up in Toronto, where Ness falls in love and begins to flourish, while Hetty seems to simply fall and fade. Cherry Beach explores the evolution and devolution of their friendship with startling intimacy.
While Ness is the first person narrator, this novel is really about Hetty. Beautiful, magnetic, yet casual and sometimes careless Hetty, around whom everyone seems to orbit. Most, if not all, female friendships have some degree of this dynamic, but McPhee-Browne has drawn it to an extreme, somewhat blinding Ness to the downsides of Hetty's life. Ness has other flaws, though, and these threaten the romance that blossoms when she meets the delightful Faith in an art gallery. Their relationship brings such joy to the tale (one of my favourite moments sees them hoping to encounter Margaret Atwood in a Korean supermarket) that helps balance the darker moments.
Very few minor characters are fully developed, and while this would usually be a critique, it actually adds authenticity to this story. Ness is so absorbed by Hetty and Faith in turn, that she does not notice much about the other people in her life, and so neither do we, as readers. Instead, we mostly see incomplete sketches of the housemates in Toronto, as well as Hetty's new friends. McPhee-Browne knows them all better though - she peels back the superficial facade for one minor character towards the very end as proof.
Cherry Beach is about so many things, but above all it is a story about coming to know oneself, and the tenderness of friendship. McPhee-Browne perfectly captures the intimacy of female friendship, the interdependence and lean of it, heightened by Ness and Hetty being away from home. I doubt any woman who has had a best friend can read this and fail to relate.
This is an easy book to fall into. The writing is fluid and clear, and words never feel wasted, much in the style of Jennifer Down. McPhee-Browne captures small details that give deep insight into both character and place, a la Sally Rooney. Her writing also has a regular connection to the senses and sensation; these are fleeting moments in the narrative, yet add an important layer to the story.
A small thing, but I also enjoyed the chapters having names - something that seems to have fallen out of favour in literary novels lately. They helped me narrow in on the core of McPhee-Browne's main message or impression on each chapter, while providing links back to the water of the prologue.
Cherry Beach is an impressive debut that I would hope to see on the Stella - and potentially the Women's - Prize longlist as a striking example of Australian women portrayed in fiction.
Recommended if you liked: Our Magic Hour
I received a review copy of Cherry Beach from Text Publishing in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.