I am calling her Amber because amber is my favourite stone. In truth, it is not a stone at all. Technically, it is fossilised tree resin that has withstood all kinds of weather and woe, the likes of which would normally cause sap to disintegrate. Amber resists decay.
I am calling her Amber to give her something precious. To remind her of what the world has to offer. She knew this once, more keenly than most. But she has forgotten. I am hoping to remind her that the world’s beauty isn’t gone. That beauty exists inside things, sometimes trapped, often obscured.
When Amber returns to her home in the Australian desert one year after her brother’s death, her hope is to move on from her grief, to start again. Invited to do some work in a remote Aboriginal community, she relishes the opportunity to return to country she loves so deeply. She hadn’t realised her friend Andrew had a reason to ask her to come back.
She begins a three-day road trip on unsealed roads that link a constellation of Aboriginal communities. From the outset, it is as if she has been picked up willy willy on a windless day, and must be carried to the end of it —until the wind decides to drop. During this adventure, her composure is undone by a series of encounters, observations, the country itself, and she learns that grief takes its own time.
Told like memoir, spun like myth, this is a philosophical tale about coming to terms with the death of a loved one. About our way of dealing with death, and the offerings of another culture. It is about home, and how this is found in people as much as place.
Although this short novel is about loss and grief the story is told with such warmth and compassion I found it quite beautiful. Being set in Central Australia, woven through the story was cultural response to loss of our loved ones. Again very beautifully portrayed.
This short novel, set in Central Australia, is a tribute to grief and the different ways cultures deal with dying, death, funerals and remembrance. The story is told with such warmth, compassion and humour, it’s neither depressing nor morbid. Instead, it’s enlightening, uplifting and informative.
Not one word is excessive and the use of traditional language adds to its authenticity. The writing is gritty and real, bringing the struggles and joys of everyday life for indigenous peoples living on country into sharp focus. Dani Powell has vividly bought the town, the landscape and the people of Alice Springs, including the unique beauty of its outlying desert communities, to life in glorious full colour.
This book lingers long after you have finished reading it. By following the protagonist Amber on a return trip to desert communities she knows and loves whilst simultaneously tending to her own quiet loss this book tenderly takes the reader through both a physical and an emotional journey through grief. It is very difficult to write bout life in Central Desert communities in a way that isn’t patronising, or from the colonisers gaze, but The author masters writing from the perspective of an observer who is both an insider and a cognisant outsider, and manages to de -centre herself in the process of stunning descriptions of remote community life. Despite that this book is about grief, it leaves one with hope and sense that our culture has so much to learn from ancient cultures about grief and healing.
This moving story follows Amber on a journey back into the heart of desert Country where she has lived and worked before, this time carrying unresolved grief from her brother's death; and the knowledge that a close friend is now dying. Powell's lyrical prose is exquisite, her understanding of grief and the soul's journey through it, pitch perfect. The unique landscape is an integral part of the story, knitted in with Amber's mental, physical and emotional journey. It is a vital part of her healing, as are the people she meets and travels with along the way. There's a sense that the writer intimately knows the landscape and contexts described, and has a highly sensitive awareness of the heart and mind. Reflective, emotional and beautifully written.
Who ever thought you could love a book about grief. This novella is about Amber, who is grieving the recent loss of her brother (to illness) and follows her as she returns to places in which she had spent time in the past, which were predominantly Aboriginal communities. The writing of this book is amazingly luxurious and descriptive. It took me a while to read this short book because often I would just savour the words/description of a sentence and often revisit. As I have lost a parent and friends recently, this book was very relevant and there were parts that I could really relate to.
Stunningly beautiful writing. I soaked up every word of the descriptions of Central Australia and the deep meditations on grief. I really enjoyed learning about the rich culture of the Indigenous peoples of the Western Desert. One of the best books I've read in 2020.
A novel about grief that drips with pathos about losing a friend and a close family member and dealing with its aftermath. Powell writes fine prose of descriptions and emotional states that stay with you afterwards.
Beautifully written. Won’t pretend it is not sad but it allows the grief to be shown in the perspective of beauty, relationships and with a vast view onto immense landscape of Australia. I dare to say everyone is grieving for something or someone in their life. This book helped me to lean into the grief, let is flow, look it in the face and look beyond.
I enjoyed this book. The story explores a young woman's life and grief. She is going home, but running away too. There are funerals planned at the remote communities she visits. Raw from the loss of her brother she's not sure she can take any more death and funerals, but the experiences, joining others in their grief and sharing helps to bring healing.
A unique and well written story set in Central Australia. An exploration of grief and living life after losing loved ones. Powell describes the desert and the environment in a powerful way, often making connections between the outer and the inner worlds.
Beautifully written, but bleak. Interesting & well developed themes of country, family, aboriginal issues, death & mourning. But it was a bit dull & repetitive (despite being very short). I like the way the plot meanders, just like real life, but felt this could have been tightened up.
I loved Return to Dust. Very much. I read it twice over in quick succession. The first, greedily – astonished by its beauty and carried along by descriptions of people, places and memories. I slowed down for my second reading to burrow more deeply into and understand Amber’s – the protagonist’s – story.
Vividly set in Central Australia and although weighted with grief, Amber's matter-of-fact yet lyrical musings and observations that sweep back forth through time, place, culture and country are gentle and crystal clear. They are a lesson in the power of being open and reflective. And to press on. Returning to her home in the Australian desert, Amber presses on. With her duties to her friends, her people, her work, and herself – to unfurl and draw knowledge from her memories, from culture, from country, and from those who love her.
It is a novella about the fleetingness of life and the expansiveness of its context, the evaporation of time and kindred spirits, and how – through acknowledgement and ceremony – the pains of loss can shift, making room for sight, light and grace.
So much depth in such a small book. Lessons in grief, finding home and meaning in our country. And a vivid look into Arrernte communities in Central Australia, their culture, experience of grief, funeral practices and how they are inextricably linked to the land.
Return to Dust This is a short yet concise and powerful novel about grief and of finding one's sense of place. This is Amber's story. The author says she chose the name because it is her favourite stone, technically fossilised tree resin. She also chose the name to give her character something precious, something to worn as a talisman. The story begins with Amber returning to an unnamed place in the desert after a year away. When Amber first arrived, it had felt like a foreign country, somebody else's home. It was here that the people that belonged to this country were very much a strong presence. She felt like she returned home, and yet felt like an outsider. She has returned to help a friend in a remote community for 2 weeks on a project and to see a dying friend. The book follows her adventures, and as usual in the central desert of Australia, plans get diverted to more important tasks. There is an unexpected attendance at a funeral for an Aboriginal elder and Amber is amazed by the genuine outpouring of grief, loud and emotional and wonders why modern society has lost that ability and instead lockes it away. She says Brisbane in answer to an Aboriginal's question as to where she's been, and he replies city too big. She realises she has cities stuffed into a too small body, friends and family stretched across a whole continent. She wonders why she couldn't express her grief on her brother's death, the reason she returned to Brisbane. In the Western Desert, references to the dead are avoided. The name carried in life is not used for a time, replaced with the word 'kunmanara' making her realise that she flinched whenever someone spoke her brother's name. There is great beauty and sorrow in this book flowing like poetry. This is a book to savor and drink deep.
We were fortunate to have the author come to our Bookclub and share the experiences that influenced her writing of Return to Dust. Made me appreciate the craft that went into piecing this story together.