What do you think?
Rate this book
Anchor Point
When her mother disappears into the bush, ten - year - old Laura makes an impulsive decision that will haunt her for decades. Despite her anger and grief, she sets about running the house, taking care of her younger sister, and helping her father clear their wild acreage to carve out a farm. But gradually they realise that while they may own the land, they cannot tame it - nor can they escape their past. Anchor Point is an eloquent and arresting Australian novel no reader will easily forget.
420 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2015
8 people are currently reading
431 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 50 reviews
September 15, 2015
I started this novel while in the middle of reading another one which wasn’t commanding my attention. This one with its stark Australian landscape and its sparse prose did. Laura is ten years old and Vik five when their mother, Kath, a potter disappears. At the time Laura makes a decision that haunts her for years. Laura is determined and hardworking and sets about trying to take on as much of her mother’s role as she can, looking after the house, helping with the sheep and the farm and caring for her father, Bruce and sister Vik. She feels alienated from the rest of the townspeople. Joseph, seems to be the only one who understands her. Needless to say resentment builds up at times but then Laura gets her chance to leave. She meets Luc, an environmental activist. In the process will he change Laura? Will life in the city satisfy? Can she stay away from the land?
The land is as much a character in this book as Laura, Bruce, Vik and Joseph. The story takes place from 1984 to 2018. I found this a quietly compelling read that I raced through in a day. It raises a lot of questions about love, family, responsibility, guilt, self-sacrifice, home, climate change and the choices people make. I thoroughly enjoyed it. The scenes with floods and bushfires portray the frightening reality that some people in this land have to face. That this is a debut novel makes it even more impressive. It will be interesting to see what this writer does next.
The land is as much a character in this book as Laura, Bruce, Vik and Joseph. The story takes place from 1984 to 2018. I found this a quietly compelling read that I raced through in a day. It raises a lot of questions about love, family, responsibility, guilt, self-sacrifice, home, climate change and the choices people make. I thoroughly enjoyed it. The scenes with floods and bushfires portray the frightening reality that some people in this land have to face. That this is a debut novel makes it even more impressive. It will be interesting to see what this writer does next.
March 28, 2015
A stunning Australian novel about family secrets, sibling rivalry, love and what it means to be home. If this isn't on the Stella shortlist next year I'll eat my hat.
August 16, 2015
No doubt that this is a well written book. Laura and Vik are 10 and 5, living in rural Australia when their mum disappears. The book follows their relationship with each other and their dad through the years.
For me, the book was dull, just like the landscape. The ending didn't bring any closure to a fairly depressing story of lonely people.
For me, the book was dull, just like the landscape. The ending didn't bring any closure to a fairly depressing story of lonely people.
March 9, 2016
‘The note was neatly creased. A white square.’
As the story opens, Laura is ten years old. She lives with her parents and her younger sister Vik on a farm. Her mother Kath is a potter, trying to find time to create. Laura’s father, Bruce, is angry when Kath disappears into her studio, ignoring housework and other demands of family. Kath herself is angry. And then she disappears.
A search fails to find any trace of Kath. Where is she? Is she dead? What has happened? Laura knows something about Kath’s disappearance, but keeps it secret. This secret becomes part of a burden of responsibility that Laura carries on her own for years.
‘But how was a family meant to look, after one of them had died?’
Laura grows up quickly, becoming a mother for Vik who, at five years of age, misses her mother terribly. Time passes. Vik grows up, and escapes from the farm, to a career in the city. Laura leaves too, but returns when her father becomes ill. Her own life is put on hold. Again.
‘All her life, the small square of space reserved for herself was threatened, constantly under siege.’
The farm has been failing for years. Bruce’s management of the land, as though it can be conquered and wrestled into submission, has resulted in the soil blowing away. Clear-felling, erosion, flood, fire and drought wreak their own havoc. And Laura? What is her future?
This novel spans thirty five years, and has at least three separate aspects. First, it’s Laura’s story: her life, her choices, the consequences. Secondly, it’s about the environment we live in: how we seek to control the land, how different people relate to it and how, ultimately environment (physical and emotional) shapes us. Thirdly, it’s about the different ways in which people respond to circumstances, to change, to each other. And right at the end of the novel, in the near future, is a reminder that the city is never separate from the country.
I found this novel incredibly moving, and at times uncomfortable. I found myself wondering about each of the main characters and their choices. About Laura’s capacity, sacrifice and strength. And more broadly, about the way in which we seek to impose our will – on the land, on each other. Yes, I think this is a novel I need to reread.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
As the story opens, Laura is ten years old. She lives with her parents and her younger sister Vik on a farm. Her mother Kath is a potter, trying to find time to create. Laura’s father, Bruce, is angry when Kath disappears into her studio, ignoring housework and other demands of family. Kath herself is angry. And then she disappears.
A search fails to find any trace of Kath. Where is she? Is she dead? What has happened? Laura knows something about Kath’s disappearance, but keeps it secret. This secret becomes part of a burden of responsibility that Laura carries on her own for years.
‘But how was a family meant to look, after one of them had died?’
Laura grows up quickly, becoming a mother for Vik who, at five years of age, misses her mother terribly. Time passes. Vik grows up, and escapes from the farm, to a career in the city. Laura leaves too, but returns when her father becomes ill. Her own life is put on hold. Again.
‘All her life, the small square of space reserved for herself was threatened, constantly under siege.’
The farm has been failing for years. Bruce’s management of the land, as though it can be conquered and wrestled into submission, has resulted in the soil blowing away. Clear-felling, erosion, flood, fire and drought wreak their own havoc. And Laura? What is her future?
This novel spans thirty five years, and has at least three separate aspects. First, it’s Laura’s story: her life, her choices, the consequences. Secondly, it’s about the environment we live in: how we seek to control the land, how different people relate to it and how, ultimately environment (physical and emotional) shapes us. Thirdly, it’s about the different ways in which people respond to circumstances, to change, to each other. And right at the end of the novel, in the near future, is a reminder that the city is never separate from the country.
I found this novel incredibly moving, and at times uncomfortable. I found myself wondering about each of the main characters and their choices. About Laura’s capacity, sacrifice and strength. And more broadly, about the way in which we seek to impose our will – on the land, on each other. Yes, I think this is a novel I need to reread.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
January 22, 2016
As you could tell from the Opening Lines of Anchor Point that I posted on my blog, I was thoroughly impressed by this debut novel. It’s an absorbing, satisfying book that suggests a promising future for Melbourne author Alice Robinson.
What precipitated ten-year-old Laura’s swollen eye in that opening scene was that she had broken a pot created by her mother, an amateur artist. The drama that ensues has lifelong implications for Laura who ends up becoming mother to her five-year-old sister Vik and a helpmeet for her father, who is a simple but single-minded man, devoted to the hardscrabble land on which he hopes to develop sheep pasture. She is a mere child when she helps Bruce to clear-fell the land and help with the lambing…
The writing is vivid:
More months passed. The palms of Laura’s hands, like the surface of the land, were changing. Blisters rose like pearls of water, breaking, bleeding, running dry. Then the skin hardened – so much so that it started cracking as the weather grew cold. Blood and then pus marked the fissures in the tissue along the lifeline and along the one for love. The cracks took ages to heal, but she couldn’t very well not use her hands. Fixing the ute’s engine, covered in grease, head pounding through the fumes, she thought her skin might come right off. (p.63)
Habits of guilt and self-sacrifice define Laura’s life, compromising her relationship with Luc, the man she meets at Agricultural College, and with her sister.
To read the rest of my review please visit http://anzlitlovers.com/2015/03/06/an...
What precipitated ten-year-old Laura’s swollen eye in that opening scene was that she had broken a pot created by her mother, an amateur artist. The drama that ensues has lifelong implications for Laura who ends up becoming mother to her five-year-old sister Vik and a helpmeet for her father, who is a simple but single-minded man, devoted to the hardscrabble land on which he hopes to develop sheep pasture. She is a mere child when she helps Bruce to clear-fell the land and help with the lambing…
The writing is vivid:
More months passed. The palms of Laura’s hands, like the surface of the land, were changing. Blisters rose like pearls of water, breaking, bleeding, running dry. Then the skin hardened – so much so that it started cracking as the weather grew cold. Blood and then pus marked the fissures in the tissue along the lifeline and along the one for love. The cracks took ages to heal, but she couldn’t very well not use her hands. Fixing the ute’s engine, covered in grease, head pounding through the fumes, she thought her skin might come right off. (p.63)
Habits of guilt and self-sacrifice define Laura’s life, compromising her relationship with Luc, the man she meets at Agricultural College, and with her sister.
To read the rest of my review please visit http://anzlitlovers.com/2015/03/06/an...
January 31, 2016
This novel is Laura's story and she is a memorable character, whose life journey we follow over a span of 35 years. This is also the story of an Australian landscape, increasingly burdened by the farming methods of the past and threatened by climate change.
I was thoroughly absorbed in this novel although at times I found the unrelenting burdens of Laura's life depressing. After her mother disappears when she is only ten years old, Laura is left to help bring up her very young sister and assist her much loved father in his hard physical work on their farm. Laura also bears the guilt of a secret about her mother's disappearance that will mark her, her relationships and her future. Laura is bound to the land in a way that has some of the intensity of 'country' that her aboriginal friend Joseph and his mob feel. It is indeed her 'anchor point'.
This is an impressive debut novel, with an emotional intensity and an understanding of the physical nature of existence. The two sections about fierce bushfires are especially dramatic.
Laura's relationships with Luc, the environmental activist, and Joseph, the indigenous Australian could be seen as contrived ways of introducing a 'message' but Robinson writes so convincingly that we accept the trajectory and tensions of her narrative. Her characters are authentic and her thinking subtle. I look forward to more from this writer.
I was thoroughly absorbed in this novel although at times I found the unrelenting burdens of Laura's life depressing. After her mother disappears when she is only ten years old, Laura is left to help bring up her very young sister and assist her much loved father in his hard physical work on their farm. Laura also bears the guilt of a secret about her mother's disappearance that will mark her, her relationships and her future. Laura is bound to the land in a way that has some of the intensity of 'country' that her aboriginal friend Joseph and his mob feel. It is indeed her 'anchor point'.
This is an impressive debut novel, with an emotional intensity and an understanding of the physical nature of existence. The two sections about fierce bushfires are especially dramatic.
Laura's relationships with Luc, the environmental activist, and Joseph, the indigenous Australian could be seen as contrived ways of introducing a 'message' but Robinson writes so convincingly that we accept the trajectory and tensions of her narrative. Her characters are authentic and her thinking subtle. I look forward to more from this writer.
August 4, 2015
After so many great reviews for this book I was very disappointed. I found it had huge gaping holes in the storyline and felt the entire story was quite bland. I kept reading it waiting for it to improve, but it never did, except for a few well written lines, it dismally failed. How unfortunate.
June 22, 2015
Powered through this in one day because it was due back at the library, so I'm sure I missed some of the subtleties of the story, but wow.
October 5, 2016
Beautifully written and well developed story. The characters and the Australian rural setting were real and had depth. 4.5 stars
October 10, 2019
A tale of family bonds and roles, challenging parents and their impact, a childhood decision with huge ripples, and absence and secrets.
Laura makes, and actively maintains, a decision when she is 10, which changes the course of her life, and those of her father and younger sister. It robs her of her childhood, and puts her in a role of responsibility before her time. The choice reminded me a little of Atonement, but Laura sustains the decision at several intervals.
It's hard to discuss this one without giving away spoilers. It is told in roughly 10 years stages, and also encompasses themes of fire, drought, sustainability and land rights of rural Australia.
The final 20 year span was compelling enough to have me reading into the wee hours, to find out the conclusion. Albeit not quite as powerful an end as I was looking for.
Another book where I wanted to know more about one of the B grade characters - Joseph would be a fascinating character to explore more of.
Laura makes, and actively maintains, a decision when she is 10, which changes the course of her life, and those of her father and younger sister. It robs her of her childhood, and puts her in a role of responsibility before her time. The choice reminded me a little of Atonement, but Laura sustains the decision at several intervals.
It's hard to discuss this one without giving away spoilers. It is told in roughly 10 years stages, and also encompasses themes of fire, drought, sustainability and land rights of rural Australia.
The final 20 year span was compelling enough to have me reading into the wee hours, to find out the conclusion. Albeit not quite as powerful an end as I was looking for.
Another book where I wanted to know more about one of the B grade characters - Joseph would be a fascinating character to explore more of.
February 28, 2020
Well written Australian novel. Features family and relationship challenges, love, loss and abandonment. Unfortunately the ending fell flat. 3.5 stars
July 3, 2016
I read this book in one sitting, finishing late at night, and am still reeling from it. In fact, I’ve actually been trying to write this review for a couple of weeks and have been struggling with it because the novel just encompasses so much. Anchor Point is a powerful story about how humans, both individually and as a society, relate to the land – how we connect with it, how we destroy it, and how the state of the environment exerts control over our lives whether we like it or not. But it’s also a very personal story of an individual woman, Laura, and her own connection to the sheep farm she grew up on, as well as her relationship with her family, her work, her lover. The whole story is also about climate change. I’m impressed at how Robinson wove all these elements together into a cohesive, almost seamless whole.
The impetus for the story is an unwanted letter. Laura’s mother, Kath, goes missing from their rural property in western Victoria during a terrible storm. After hours of searching the nearby bush and gully to no avail, Laura finds a note from her mother: Kath hasn’t disappeared, she has abandoned them. In her ten-year-old hurt and confusion, Laura burns the note and keeps it secret from her father and sister, for the next forty years.
Even though I found the whole letter-burning ordeal a little clichéd, the way that Laura deals with her grief, shame and guilt about her mother is really convincing. The character feels so real. I was constantly thinking ‘ahh, YES! That is exactly how a person would respond in that situation!’ even though her actions were complex and not always predictable. But, Robinson manages to convey Laura (and other character’s) inner feelings without being too explicit – Laura as a character ‘accumulates’ over the text, so that by the end I felt quite deeply whatever she was feeling.
That said, Robin also managed to sketch complex family dynamics in just a few lines. In one scene at toward the beginning of the book, Laura’s little sister Vik is begging Laura to open the mail, which mostly comprises condolence cards about the ‘death’ of Kath. Laura doesn’t want to as she knows another letter from her mother is in there, which of course she must hide to keep up her ruse, but Vik is stubborn, and Vik soon knocks the pile of envelopes everywhere. The concluding sentences of the scene highlight the tension between the sisters and how traumatised they both are – but also how they are too young to really articulate how they’ve been affected except through violence:
‘Don’t just sit there,’ Laura said. She tried to make her voice sound adult. ‘Gonna help me clean up or what’? Kath’s note was a blood-blister that Vik was pressing down on to burst.
Vik struck out at Laura with one bare foot, leaning back on her palms to get leverage. Laura turned, engulfed by the flood and rush of blood in her veins. She grabbed the small white foot and screwed her nails in.
‘You little bitch,’ she hissed. It was a word she had heard, but had never said out loud. Vik screamed, flailing, and shook Laura off.
Robinson’s descriptions of the farmland are really evocative too. Mostly, because she illustrates clearly how tied up with the land humans are for survival; not only do farmers need rain and sun to grow crops or stock to generate enough money to live on, but all people literally need farms so that we can eat. Robinson also shows how the land creates the person Laura is – Laura pretty much runs the farm from the age of 14 or so and the rhythm of the work – the fencing, the lambing, shooting flyblown sheep – as well as the beauty of the landscape have become a part of her. But the land is irreparably changed thanks to human interventions that have not considered the earth’s natural rhythms: bushfires increase in frequency and intensity, and when it rains, it pours. ‘The ground was hard as glass; rain did not soak, it ran. Floodwater where before there had been dust.’ The book is sensitive in that it acknowledges the complexity of how best to care for the environment: should we leave stands of gum trees on rural properties to protect endangered species, or should we clear them to protect the farmers’ houses they surround from bushfire? Do we prioritise humans or the land? How might we prioritise both?
The only aspect of Anchor Point that I wasn’t totally convinced by was the character of Luc, Laura’s long-term boyfriend who she meets at TAFE in Sydney. Luc is left-wing environmentalist, and much dramatic tension is created through the way Laura must mediate between her lover and her more pragmatic, sheep farming dad. However, Luc seemed a bit of a plot-device, there to represent a particular view of the environment, rather than a fully realised character. This isn’t a problem in itself, but he stuck out a bit since all the other characters were so well drawn.
Apart from that – amazing. Made me cry twice!
from juliatulloh.com
The impetus for the story is an unwanted letter. Laura’s mother, Kath, goes missing from their rural property in western Victoria during a terrible storm. After hours of searching the nearby bush and gully to no avail, Laura finds a note from her mother: Kath hasn’t disappeared, she has abandoned them. In her ten-year-old hurt and confusion, Laura burns the note and keeps it secret from her father and sister, for the next forty years.
Even though I found the whole letter-burning ordeal a little clichéd, the way that Laura deals with her grief, shame and guilt about her mother is really convincing. The character feels so real. I was constantly thinking ‘ahh, YES! That is exactly how a person would respond in that situation!’ even though her actions were complex and not always predictable. But, Robinson manages to convey Laura (and other character’s) inner feelings without being too explicit – Laura as a character ‘accumulates’ over the text, so that by the end I felt quite deeply whatever she was feeling.
That said, Robin also managed to sketch complex family dynamics in just a few lines. In one scene at toward the beginning of the book, Laura’s little sister Vik is begging Laura to open the mail, which mostly comprises condolence cards about the ‘death’ of Kath. Laura doesn’t want to as she knows another letter from her mother is in there, which of course she must hide to keep up her ruse, but Vik is stubborn, and Vik soon knocks the pile of envelopes everywhere. The concluding sentences of the scene highlight the tension between the sisters and how traumatised they both are – but also how they are too young to really articulate how they’ve been affected except through violence:
‘Don’t just sit there,’ Laura said. She tried to make her voice sound adult. ‘Gonna help me clean up or what’? Kath’s note was a blood-blister that Vik was pressing down on to burst.
Vik struck out at Laura with one bare foot, leaning back on her palms to get leverage. Laura turned, engulfed by the flood and rush of blood in her veins. She grabbed the small white foot and screwed her nails in.
‘You little bitch,’ she hissed. It was a word she had heard, but had never said out loud. Vik screamed, flailing, and shook Laura off.
Robinson’s descriptions of the farmland are really evocative too. Mostly, because she illustrates clearly how tied up with the land humans are for survival; not only do farmers need rain and sun to grow crops or stock to generate enough money to live on, but all people literally need farms so that we can eat. Robinson also shows how the land creates the person Laura is – Laura pretty much runs the farm from the age of 14 or so and the rhythm of the work – the fencing, the lambing, shooting flyblown sheep – as well as the beauty of the landscape have become a part of her. But the land is irreparably changed thanks to human interventions that have not considered the earth’s natural rhythms: bushfires increase in frequency and intensity, and when it rains, it pours. ‘The ground was hard as glass; rain did not soak, it ran. Floodwater where before there had been dust.’ The book is sensitive in that it acknowledges the complexity of how best to care for the environment: should we leave stands of gum trees on rural properties to protect endangered species, or should we clear them to protect the farmers’ houses they surround from bushfire? Do we prioritise humans or the land? How might we prioritise both?
The only aspect of Anchor Point that I wasn’t totally convinced by was the character of Luc, Laura’s long-term boyfriend who she meets at TAFE in Sydney. Luc is left-wing environmentalist, and much dramatic tension is created through the way Laura must mediate between her lover and her more pragmatic, sheep farming dad. However, Luc seemed a bit of a plot-device, there to represent a particular view of the environment, rather than a fully realised character. This isn’t a problem in itself, but he stuck out a bit since all the other characters were so well drawn.
Apart from that – amazing. Made me cry twice!
from juliatulloh.com
April 23, 2015
This story had a beautiful poetic flow and was an absolute pleasure to read. There was a darkness to it that was so subtle you almost miss it. At the base it's about a family trying to stay together, trying to keep their home a home. But go deeper it's also about the environment, how it can control everything around you and dictate your life. I loved the language and the characters. Sometimes I found Laura unrealistic, sometimes I wanted to hate her, but at the heart of it all I understood everything she did and why she did it. Her imperfections made me love her more.
During part 4 I did find it hard to imagine her as older, though. She always stayed in her mid-twenties in my mind for majority of the book and I think it's because she doesn't really grow even though the rest of the world and the characters around her do. On the inside she really is still that 15 year old girl trying to make everyone and everything happy. Another one to sit proudly on my bookshelf, thank you Alice! I'm so happy to hold the physical book in my hands.
During part 4 I did find it hard to imagine her as older, though. She always stayed in her mid-twenties in my mind for majority of the book and I think it's because she doesn't really grow even though the rest of the world and the characters around her do. On the inside she really is still that 15 year old girl trying to make everyone and everything happy. Another one to sit proudly on my bookshelf, thank you Alice! I'm so happy to hold the physical book in my hands.
May 8, 2016
This was so great! It was like a grown-up and very-much-improved version of Jasper Jones. All the characters were really well-drawn and the settings completely realised. The plot didn’t play out the way I expected it to either but in a good way. .
August 31, 2016
Laura and Vik are 10 and 5 on the day their mother, Kath, walks into the bushland and never returns. Vik and her father, Bruce, eventually come to the conclusion that Kath has died; but Laura has a secret. A secret written on a small white square of paper.
This gorgeous book spans 35 years, discussing how their mother's disappearance has a devastating effect on Bruce, who in turn has a devastating effect on the land. And when 10 year old Laura is forced to become a mother to Vik and a farmer for Bruce, she must eventually decide whether she is living for herself or everybody else.
Anchor Point is bleak. But in such a beautiful way. The harsh Australian environment is as much a character as any of the people mentioned in the book; and despite the traumatic events and circumstances, one can't help but be left with a feeling of hope.
This gorgeous book spans 35 years, discussing how their mother's disappearance has a devastating effect on Bruce, who in turn has a devastating effect on the land. And when 10 year old Laura is forced to become a mother to Vik and a farmer for Bruce, she must eventually decide whether she is living for herself or everybody else.
Anchor Point is bleak. But in such a beautiful way. The harsh Australian environment is as much a character as any of the people mentioned in the book; and despite the traumatic events and circumstances, one can't help but be left with a feeling of hope.
September 7, 2017
One of the best damn books I have ever read, and I do not say that lightly. The story is simultaneously beautifully lyrical and earth-shatteringly heartbreaking from start to finish. Laura is an exquisitely crafted, completely real character, as are all the characters around her. I loved the way the narration changed ever so slightly in each section to show how she had changed in the years between was so subtly and flawlessly executed. The way that Alice evokes the beauty of life in rural Australia is done without nostalgia or softening the edges of its unbearable harshness and cruelty. This is sure to be a book I read time and again, as I cannot imagine going the rest of my life without spending more time with these characters, and having my heart broken all over again.
August 6, 2015
If you grew up on the land you'll love this heartfelt story of a family struggling with everything life throws at them. A mother who disappears, a driven father determined to make the most of life on the land and Laura trying to meet her father's expectations while also raising her younger sister. She struggles with her choices, her future and the strain of trying to please the men in her life. A decision made in a heartbeat can affect the rest of your life.
May 9, 2019
Well written story set in mostly rural Victoria. A complex story that delves into family as well as environmental issues. This was quite a depressing story which didn’t have an uplifting ending but in saying that it was in that sense a realistic portrayal of the hard life many people live.
July 27, 2020
(3.5 stars)
"Laura saw the same puzzled, bereft expression on both her parents' faces - as though each had misplaced something they couldn't remember putting down." Anchor Point is told from the perspective of Laura, a ten-year-old when her parents separate. With a ten year old comprehension of events, Laura makes a fateful decision to destroy the note her mother Kath left. The consequences of this reverberate through her adult life, until she finally rids herself of the weighty secret.
Robbed of her childhood by her mother's selfishness, Laura experiences life is a long list of tasks: "As they had most of her life, the tasks piled up like foundation stones beneath her." There is a gendered expectation that she take up the slack left by her mother across housework and child-rearing: "The weight of her sister's needs, a milkmaid's yoke." This ages her before her time: "How young the other kids looked to her now. She felt arthritic, bent by events." Taking on so much responsibility closes down Laura's future choices, and has clear mental health impacts: "It was the same feeling she sometimes got when she climbed up on the roof to clean gutters, overcome with the sense that she might suddenly, unexpectedly, jump."
Anchor Point also discusses dementia, including hereditary impacts of the degenerative illness: "There was the sense of being caught in the static between radio stations. If she waited long enough, her mind would tune it." Second generation dementia makes for quite a melancholic book, saved only by Alice Robinson's pretty prose and vivid descriptions of the Australian landscape and rural Australian life.
There's also a strong line of environmentalism and how it sits in relationship to country values. You can see why it is hard for ensuing generations of rural kids to make the decision to manage the land they inherit differently. This includes a subtle thread highlighting the traditional owners of the land, and how they now must grovel for access to spaces they originally inhabited, watching on as they are eroded and destroyed by drought and flooding rains. The white settler notion of home and connection to the land sits in direct contrast to the narrative about Joseph's home being stolen.
"Laura saw the same puzzled, bereft expression on both her parents' faces - as though each had misplaced something they couldn't remember putting down." Anchor Point is told from the perspective of Laura, a ten-year-old when her parents separate. With a ten year old comprehension of events, Laura makes a fateful decision to destroy the note her mother Kath left. The consequences of this reverberate through her adult life, until she finally rids herself of the weighty secret.
Robbed of her childhood by her mother's selfishness, Laura experiences life is a long list of tasks: "As they had most of her life, the tasks piled up like foundation stones beneath her." There is a gendered expectation that she take up the slack left by her mother across housework and child-rearing: "The weight of her sister's needs, a milkmaid's yoke." This ages her before her time: "How young the other kids looked to her now. She felt arthritic, bent by events." Taking on so much responsibility closes down Laura's future choices, and has clear mental health impacts: "It was the same feeling she sometimes got when she climbed up on the roof to clean gutters, overcome with the sense that she might suddenly, unexpectedly, jump."
Anchor Point also discusses dementia, including hereditary impacts of the degenerative illness: "There was the sense of being caught in the static between radio stations. If she waited long enough, her mind would tune it." Second generation dementia makes for quite a melancholic book, saved only by Alice Robinson's pretty prose and vivid descriptions of the Australian landscape and rural Australian life.
There's also a strong line of environmentalism and how it sits in relationship to country values. You can see why it is hard for ensuing generations of rural kids to make the decision to manage the land they inherit differently. This includes a subtle thread highlighting the traditional owners of the land, and how they now must grovel for access to spaces they originally inhabited, watching on as they are eroded and destroyed by drought and flooding rains. The white settler notion of home and connection to the land sits in direct contrast to the narrative about Joseph's home being stolen.
April 8, 2021
I finished this novel yesterday and cannot yet organise my thoughts into anything coherent. I found it an intense read with obvious themes about motherhood, femininity, land and race. The main character Laura seems to serve others her entire life after her mother chooses to avoid this gendered role and expectation. Part of this, at least, seems to be about the dreadful cost of this refusal, yet also the cost for Laura of not refusing it. And the land, the way she is bound to it, its brutality, to find herself finishing up, eventually finding respite, in her sister's crisp white air-conditioned 33rd floor apartment in the city while they watch the country burn below. Something about the whiteness of the apartment, and her sister's linen suit, feels significant here. The relationship of whiteness to the land, the gendered roles. All is covered in this (in my experience) harrowing read.
November 5, 2018
Told through Laura’s point of view, full of metaphors and tight sentences. Loved the strong Australian landscape with seasonal changes and layers that develop and change throughout the novel. Laura's character carried the story, tending to overshadow the other characters. Environmental themes and very human dilemmas about secrets, loss, abandonment, jealousy and more leaves lots to think about in this story that covers over thirty years, and achieved the 2016 Stella Prize long-list.
January 27, 2021
A multi-decadal story , told through the eyes of the main character Laura, of the life changing ripples that flow from a single decision. The writing is superb. You cannot help but be drawn into the family as it battles to survive on the family farm in an unforgiving climate. The emotional toll exacted on each family member resonates, as you hope Laura finds a satisfying resolution that is worthy of her determination .
This is a book that works on many levels. I highly recommend it.
This is a book that works on many levels. I highly recommend it.
November 14, 2021
4.5
Rarely do half rankings, it’s basically five stars on literary merit alone.
Great hyper realism, movement over time, character portraits. Had to take off half a star for being slightly repetitive in its character analysis and somber to a cutting extreme
Would still recommend
Ommmmggg, I just realised seconds after writing this it’s the same author as the glad shout. I loved that book. This author is very much going places
Rarely do half rankings, it’s basically five stars on literary merit alone.
Great hyper realism, movement over time, character portraits. Had to take off half a star for being slightly repetitive in its character analysis and somber to a cutting extreme
Would still recommend
Ommmmggg, I just realised seconds after writing this it’s the same author as the glad shout. I loved that book. This author is very much going places
May 9, 2018
I was looking forward to reading Anchor Point as the synopsis sounded good and I got the impression from all the 4 and 5 star ratings that it was going to be a fantastic read. Sadly, this wasn’t the case for me and I couldn’t get past the first few chapters without thinking that I was wasting my time on another overhyped book that just didn’t deliver.
April 14, 2024
Beautifully written descriptions of the harshness of the Australian outback, and the threats that people living off the land endure; drought, flooding and fires. The connection to the places we call home and the pull those places have on you as you age; the guilt of wanting to leave and then wanting to return was cleverly crafted throughout.
January 25, 2020
The situation and setting are both very compelling. I empathised with the main characters and enjoyed the story of their growth, both as individuals and as part of a small family with a shared life-changing experience.
March 4, 2020
Unflinchingly captures family in all of its flawed, messy and conflicted states, where rash choices made young shape the adult, and in this story's case also the land.
August 2, 2020
Fabulous read, once started I did not want to stop reading.
April 27, 2021
It wasn't a bad read but through out the entire book I wanted more from it. It piqued my interest but didn't follow through.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 50 reviews