From the twice-winner of the Miles Franklin Award, Scary Monsters is an affecting, profound and darkly funny exploration into racism, misogyny and ageism.SHORTLISTED FOR THE 2022 MILES FRANKLIN LITERARY AWARDWINNER OF THE 2023 RATHBONES FOLIO PRIZE FOR FICTION'A novel of luminous intelligence and profound depth, written with verve, humour and exceptional elegance.' - Monica Ali, author of Brick Lane When my family emigrated it felt as if we'd been stood on our heads.Michelle de Kretser's electrifying take on scary monsters turns the novel upside down - just as migration has upended her characters' lives. Lili's family migrated to Australia from Asia when she was a teenager. Now, in the 1980s, she's teaching in the south of France. She makes friends, observes the treatment handed out to North African immigrants and is creeped out by her downstairs neighbour. All the while, Lili is striving to be A Bold, Intelligent Woman like Simone de Beauvoir. Lyle works for a sinister government department in near-future Australia. An Asian migrant, he fears repatriation and embraces 'Australian values'. He's also preoccupied by his ambitious wife, his wayward children and his strong-minded elderly mother. Islam has been banned in the country, the air is smoky from a Permanent Fire Zone, and one pandemic has already run its course.Three scary monsters - racism, misogyny and ageism - roam through this mesmerising novel. Its reversible format enacts the disorientation that migrants experience when changing countries changes the story of their lives. With this suspenseful, funny and profound book, Michelle de Kretser has made something thrilling and new.Which comes first, the future or the past?Praise for Scary radically brilliant diptych-novel, in complex conversation with itself and with the world we live in, written by one of the living masters of the art of fiction. A beautifully troubling book.' - Max Porter, author of Lanny'Bold, spare and completely original. One of the most exciting contemporary novels I've read for a very long time.' - Preti Taneja, author of We That Are Young'Written with incandescent moral energy, boundless compassion, and astonishing precision and beauty, Michelle de Kretser's Scary Monsters extends the very possibilities of the novel form. On the contemporary international scene, there are very, very few writers who can match her style, her intelligence, her vision. To read her is to be changed.' - Neel Mukherjee, author of The Lives of Others'In Scary Monsters de Kretser addresses the weightiest of subjects with the lightest and deftest of touches, and the result is funny, playful, painful, angry and, above all, ferociously smart. It's a dazzling novel, by a hugely talented author.' - Sarah Waters, author of The Paying Guests'Scary Monsters is a marvel. Each of the two very different parts of the novel had me totally riveted, intensely absorbed, wowed by de Kretser's scathing accuracy--whether she's chronicling youth's delights and distortions or a future where prosperity is the new "unethics".
Michelle de Kretser is an Australian novelist who was born in Sri Lanka but moved to Australia when she was 14.
She was educated in Melbourne and Paris, and published her first novel, 'The Rose Grower' in 1999. Her second novel, published in 2003, 'The Hamilton Case' was winner of the Tasmania Pacific Prize, the Encore Award (UK) and the Commonwealth Writers Prize (Southeast Asia and Pacific). 'The Lost Dog' was published in 2007. It was one of 13 books on the long list for the 2008 Man Booker Prize for Fiction. From 1989 to 1992 she was a founding editor of the Australian Women's Book Review.
Scary Monsters is a book that has two front covers, and comprises two stories. The cherry side is called Lili and set in 1980/81. The cherry blossom side is Lyle and set in the near future. Together they confront a whole lot of scary monsters from racism and misogyny to ageism and more. (the title is also a reference to David Bowie)
Lili is a young Australian whose family migrated to Sydney from Asia when she was young. In 1980 she is living and working in Montpellier in the south of France. Much of this section has literary references from Simone de Beauvoir, John Berger and Camus. The treatment of Algerians, and the contemporary murders of women (the Yorkshire ripper, the French philosopher Althusser’s murder of his wife), the safety of single women. It all sounds heavy, but the tone is light and the writing clever, the points are made well.
The Lyle section is brilliant, funny, biting satire. Set in a post pandemic, authoritarian Australia Lyle and his wife, Chanel migrated from Asia but are definitely not Muslim(Islam is banned!). They've anglicised their names all the better to fit in. Lyle’s mother, Ivy lives with them in their house on Spumante Court. They have two adult children, Mel studying in the US and Sydney who has one year to go on his PhD. Lyle works for a government department who’s job is all about finding people who need to be investigated for not fitting in and if possible deporting(a grandparent born overseas is enough). Chanel is a senior woman at the Corporation. There’s a PFZ (Permanent Fire Zone), constant bushfires polluting the air, the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, they're waiting for The Next One (ie next pandemic), the Remains of the Great Barrier Reef Mausoleum, and along with Australia’s climate no-policy there’s a Minister for Fossil Fuels. There’s also the Amendment which allows for easy euthanasia of people over 75. Oh yes it’s dark and very funny.
Scary Monsters is the sixth novel by award-winning Australian author, Michelle de Kretser. In the early nineteen-eighties, Lili is teaching in Montpellier, mixing with British and German ex-pats, occupying the attic of a cold eighteenth-century building, avoiding a creepy downstairs neighbour and watching North African men being harassed by gendarmes.
Minna, an English artist, is her closest friend among the ex-pats, and devoted to her uglification of fashion project; together they travel to Sardinia to see John Berger’s mistress, a fruitless but still interesting excursion. Against a background of reports of the Yorkshire Ripper, Lili is determined to be Bold, Sexy, Modern and Intelligent, striding out alone, despite her fear, to return home from weekly cinema outings.
Decades after immigrating to Melbourne from an unnamed Asian country, Lyle works for the Department, where he strives to be nondescript and indispensable, staying under the radar. In what many would call a police state, Australia tolerates no criticism of its climate no-policy and its solution to the grey tsunami and housing crisis, has banned Islam, and enforces a policy of repatriation of migrants who draw the wrong sort of attention to themselves.
“Our prime minister is a strategic genius. Since seventy-five per cent of the population have a grandparent born overseas, his repatriation policy had an immediate effect on dissent.”
Lyle and Chanel are consumed with appearing to be real Australians, rejecting any hint of their ethnicity and sparing no expense to achieve the right veneer. This is a costly exercise to finance and, to this end, Chanel’s pragmatism concerning her mother-in-law’s fate is chilling; Lyle’s tacit acquiescence to it, unnerving.
The reversible presentation, two novellas each with their own cover, allows the reader to choose which to read first, past or future. The scary monsters of racism, misogyny and ageism are deftly portrayed.
De Kretser easily evokes her era and setting for Lili’s story, while her depiction of the near future Australia Lyle inhabits is disturbingly believable. When Lyle says that “The whole point of Australia is a bet on the future” many will hear the echo of a certain present-day politician. Never one to write a comfortable read, De Kretser’s latest offering is powerful and thought-provoking. This unbiased review is from an uncorrected proof copy provided by Allen & Unwin.
A challenging, experimental sort of novel (or novels since it's meant to be read in two parts that bookmark each other) about racism, ageism, and misogyny. Good but challenging.
I have read all of de Kretser's novels and enjoyed most of them, so I couldn't resist picking this up when I saw that the hardback sale price was below the price of most paperbacks.
Its structure is a little reminiscent of Ali Smith's How to Be Both, in that it consists of two complementary stories that can be read either way round, and in this one the choice is literally in the reader's hands, as it is a single edition with two front covers and no back(a green female and a red male) and both halves read from a start to the middle. This also results in the barcode appearing in the middle of the spine, and the publishing info page being duplicated.
I chose to read the green (past) story first. This tells of Lili, a young Australian woman who (like the author) is an immigrant from Sri Lanka, spending a year in the early 1980s teaching in the provincial city of Montpelier in the south of France. She is never comfortable there, sensing racial prejudice everywhere and fending off the unwanted advances of a man who lives in the flat below who she suspects may want to attack or kill her.
The red story is set in a dystopian near future Australia in which some of the more extreme policies of the recently deposed government (hatred of immigrants, climate denial and Islamophobia) have turned it into something of a pariah state. Its narrator Lyle is also an immigrant, though his country of origin is never revealed. He works in a government organisation that is responsible for making decisions about prosecution and repatriation of immigrants who fail various tests of being good Australians. Islam has been banned and former Muslims have to prove their attendance in Christian churches.
Both stories are told in a fairly matter of fact tone, as uneasy undercurrents gradually build. An interesting book, but perhaps not entirely successful as a unified whole.
To win an uncorrected proof from the publisher, I told them I wanted to read Michelle de Kretser's new book because she's a writer who always challenges me. And this was certainly a challenge! I loved Lili's story, but was almost squirming with discomfort as Lyle's story unfolded. But I've never been good with satire, even when it's dished up by a favourite author. De Kretser's vision of a near-future Australia was so unpleasant - yet so utterly plausible- that it really made me sit back and examine my own values. So 4★ for Lili's scary monsters, with whom I'm so familiar as to be complacently comfortable (think Monsters Inc level of scariness), and 2★ for Lyle's, that are more like the monsters under the bed, not yet seen but all the more scary for what they do to the imagination.
With thanks to Allen & Unwin for an uncorrected proof to read.
I'm a big fan of formal experimentation in fiction, and Scary Monsters was a major source of excitement: here is a book with two front covers and two beginnings (plus a title that acts as a fitting tribute to David Bowie); two distinct novellas flipped in time and joined at the hip by the fraught nature of the immigrant experience, the ways in which it can upend a person's life. Exploring how scary monsters such as racism, misogyny, and ageism lurk in the background — and bleed into the foreground — of most such stories, De Kretser here asks readers whether our point of entry into the story matters: what comes first, the past or the future?
Depending on what we decide, the story takes us to Montpellier, 1981, where Lili is working as a language facilitator, or to Melbourne in a dystopian near-future through the eyes of our narrator Lyle, who is a sub-official "the Department." Both Lili and Lyle have immigrated from South Asia to Australia and are lawful citizens, but nevertheless struggle to be seen as Australian.
For Lili, moving to France allows a physical and cultural difference so vast that no true understanding of what an Australian may look like exists — and yet, she finds herself stopped by the gendarmes just like the (also dark-skinned) North Africans in the city (the latter resort to dressing rather formally to gain a sense of respectability that is already stripped away by the way their skin colour appears to a racialising gaze). Her friend Minna, an English artist, doesn't get stopped nearly as much: she can commit herself to "the uglification of clothes" and draw as much attention to herself as she likes without being truly conspicuous. Meanwhile, Lili's walks through Montpellier — as well as through her daily life — are streaked with fear. She wants to be a Modern, Sexy Woman like Madonna or a Bold, Intelligent one like Simone de Beauvoir, but realises that the bravery of both require the security of whiteness. Her experience is instead marked by an awareness of the French mistreatment of Algerians (everyone around her is interested in Camus' L'Étranger, but not in the unnamed Arab man he shot dead, or in why the Frenchman was settling in the latter's world in the first place); as well as a deep fear of violation cemented by news of the Yorkshire Ripper, of Althusser's murder of his wife Hélène Rytmann, and the growing threat presented by her own creepy downstairs neighbour, Rinaldi.
For Lyle, assimilation is deeply necessary for survival in a post-pandemic police state where Islam is banned, worrying about the climate crisis is outlawed, and where a repatriation policy targetting anyone who has at least one grandparent born overseas ("seventy-five percent of the population," Lyle tells us) has had a blanket effect of quelling dissent. Lyle is committed to ensuring he doesn't stand out: though not Muslim he has anglicised his name, raised his children according to convention, and in all fronts strives to be more and more Australian every moment. However, for immigrants like him and his wife Chanel, there are always little things — the renters moving into their suburban neighbourhood, the fact that theirs is not a nuclear family in a country of care homes and nuclear families, and even the fine print, unwritten requirements of their respective jobs — that threaten to out them. Adamant to remain where he has built his new life (albeit one where he is constantly watching his back), Lyle, at the behest of Chanel, reluctantly concludes that his ageing mother Ivy is drawing too much attention. Perhaps taking her out via the government's new Amendment will be killing two birds with one stone...
Though these two storylines act as independent novellas, with only a single sentence linking them in terms of narrative, they work as a thematical unit that operates by juxtaposing the similarlity and variety of experience amongst those haunted by their immigrant status, whether man or woman, ambitious or careful, located in the past or in the future. Further, these two "halves" also alternative stylistically, from nuanced and literary in one half to more satirical and slightly gimmicky in the other, perhaps in an attempt to break out of the way immigrant stories are pigeonholed into a singular framing in most media.
Scary Monsters is not an easy or easily satisfying read: it requires you embrace the format and all its attendant philosophical queries, and to actually concede your positionality and inhabit the narrators' minds and fears. This can be challenging for many readers, especially without a clear-cut plot as an aid. While I quite enjoyed the mysteriousness of the book, and how the side you begin with shapes your perception and expectations regarding the other one, I often found myself struggling to stay immersed, distracted by a search for cohesion. I'm not quite sure if my excitement met its match in the novel's energy; I have the feeling it was ever so slightly too subtle for my tastes. Even so, I enjoyed reading this book, and would definitely like to come back to it again — who knows how scary De Kretser's monsters will have become by then?
Ooo this is a clever novel, that asks its reader some big questions. De Kretser plays with the dual narrative here, in a way that is similar to Ali Smith’s How to Be Both. I started with the historical half (Lili) and then moved to the future (Lyle). This approach suited my love of chronology and I think aided my reading of this as a novel about the scary monsters that lurk in Australian society; past, present, and yet to come. I’m interested in whether reading this book the other way around might have influenced the way these stories were interpreted. This novel is and example of really skilful writing- I was right there with each of De Kretser’s protagonists as they grappled with scary monsters both personal, relational, and systemic. The most boldly present of these is racism, and particularly the way it builds into fear of migrants. De Kretser looks at Australian society with a very critical eye. I thought this novel was really well done.
Setting: France: 1980's; Australia: near future. This intriguing novel is written in two parts and, even on Kindle, you are given the option as to which part you read first! So, I opted to read the 'past' section first which, having completed the book, worked best for me. Lili is the child of an Asian migrant family who settled in Australia but she has moved to France to teach languages to immigrants there, whilst waiting for her university place at Oxford to be confirmed. Based in Montpellier, she sees the racism of the police in relation to the North African men who frequent the markets and parks where she lives - who are randomly rounded up for I.D. checks and deportation whereas she, despite her coloured skin, only has to show her Australian passport to be overlooked. Yet she always feels quite out of place in French society, despite (or perhaps because of) her friendship with privileged Minna and her boyfriend Nick.... In a near-future Melbourne, Lyle and Chanel are Asian migrants who arrived in Australia before a ban on such migration. In the face of this and the subsequent banning of Islam and other restrictions, Lyle keeps his head down and doesn't look for promotion within the Government organisation where he works, preferring to stay 'under the radar' in his middle management role. But his wife has other ambitions within the private corporation where she works - and these plans don't include Lyle's mother, Lily, who moved from Asia to live with them following the death of his stepfather. Fortunately for Chanel, in the light of Lily's undiagnosed possible bowel cancer, the Government has recently introduced a 'fast-track' voluntary euthanasia scheme!.... The subject matter of the book is concerning in its own right but there is also the quite believable background of, for example regular temperatures of 53 centigrade in Melbourne, a Permanent Fire Zone north of Sydney and buildings collapsing into Sydney Harbour, that make you almost shiver with dread at the prospects for the future. I found myself totally engrossed in both stories, although there is only a tenuous link between them (the fate of 1980's Lili is mentioned in passing in Lyle's story, which is why I am glad I read them in the order I did!). Though neither story really concludes, and perhaps more could have been written on the 'future' events (bit of a sudden and unexpected ending there!), I loved the writing, the characters and the settings - 9/10.
The final of my Sydney spotlight reads and I definitely saved the best for last. One of my favourite things about Michelle de Kretser’s writing is just how effortless it feels to the reader. Her writing feels this way despite how much is going on at a sentence level and at an architectural level. I tumbled into the first part (I started with the historical section ((Lili)) and then read the near future section ((Lyle))) and there was no looking back. Ali Smith utilised a similar dual format in How to be both and de Kretser herself has been interested in dual narratives before. The scary monster that raised its ugly head most strongly for me was racism – this is a truly excellent novel about race. De Kretser has never shied away from the political in her work and here she asks us to look deep within our Bowie-loving, immigrant wary selves and ask some difficult questions. Her writing looks at us, our country, ourselves in ways that reveal how wrong things were, are and might yet be.
I shouldn’t have used this as a chaser for Vladimir because this has absolutely the same elements that don’t work in that. It’s meta in a short hand didactic way I find to be lazy writing. There are heavy subjects broached with regards to immigrant experience, mostly in the only section I made it 80 pages into (Lilly) it deals with racism and misogyny culturing intense fear. And so Camus’s Stranger and Algeria are used as intertextuality to talk about the past, literature, and this current experience for the protagonist. But it’s all vignettes that devolve into this toothless satire because what is actually unfolding on the page is not the thing doing the work! Her emotion is a proxy via references, as is her consumption of the environment. Yeah, I get it, it’s taking the piss on systemic, entrenched cultural staples—but things also need to actually happen in a novel. Presumably meaningful things, yes?
The notion of Satire on its head is made in it as well. With a double figurative meaning in this case, since the protagonist talks about how the immigrant experience is one of being on your head and seeing things from different angles. No doubt another meta nod to the format of the book. But I just didn’t want to finish this story, let alone take up a whole new perspective. There’s just not enough there, there, for me. It’s exasperating to be intentionally discombobulated and yet situated in a intertextuality bubble all the Damn time for the purposes of “satire”. No to this trend in lit. No.
"Immigration breaks people. We try to reconstitute ourselves in our new countries, but pieces of us have disappeared."
Scary Monsters is two separate novellas with interconnecting themes around migration, racism, misogyny and more. From one side (the cherry) we meet Lili whose parents had migrated to Australia from Asia. When we meet Lili she is living and working in France. Set in 1980/81 this is a look back on attitudes to race, migration, women, amongst other things. Reading from the cherry blossom side we meet Lyle, a man of Asian heritage who is living in Melbourne, Australia in an unspecified near future. How much, if at all have things changed? Have they improved or in fact deteriorated?
I read Lili first and I am glad I did as it is an easier read, a good introduction to the themes under consideration. Lyle, for me, was a much more confronting read, satirical, but, unfortunately, so easily imaginable from where we are today. This future Australia is one where "Wanting to be American is authentically Australian"; where "Humans against Boomers" protest against the burden of elder care; where "a woman with lunch-lady arms, a menopausal waistline and a less-than showroom-condition booty [couldn't] whip a board of management into line"; where climate change is not discussed, where Islam is banned, migrants are repatriated, and where "Aboriginal people ... [are] a living reminder of the past" in a country that doesn't look back.
This is a confronting, clever book. Highly recommended.
This book consists of two novellas, which may be read in any order. One is set in the early 1980’s. Twenty-something Lili is an Asian-Australian immigrant to France working as a teacher. Lili’s story involves her friendship with Minna, and a love triangle that includes Minna’s boyfriend. Lili is fearful of violence, always worried about being attacked. The second novella is set in a dystopian near future. Lyle and his wife are Asian immigrants living in Australia. Lyle’s mother, Ivy, lives with them. Environmental damage has occurred, and the government has enacted restrictions on specified religions and immigration (as well as a host of other “Big-Brother-ish” laws). Lyle is a bureaucrat trying to keep a low profile.
The two novellas relate to migration, discrimination (age, sex, race), and how the past informs the future. In this case, not in a good way. The prose is atmospheric. Both stories are light on plot and heavy on message. I found one sentence in Lyle’s story that references the link between the two novellas. I am not sure what to make of this book, especially the bizarre ending to Lyle’s story. It made me think but I found it difficult to engage emotionally.
This is an excellent book from de Kretser, which have been hit and miss for me. I’ll need to gather my thoughts but this is one I’m ready to start all over again tonight.
On walking home at night from the cinema in 1990 Montpelier:
'There were dodgy moments on these walks, when cars went past or shadows turned monstrous. Like the gun in my bag, the confidence implied by my gait was fake. But both were reassuring in the way a lie can have the effect of a truth.'
From Lyle □
On modern Australia dress codes when your ethnicity could be a sore point:
' I lay down on my side and stared at the walk-in wardrobe. My suits and shirts were lined up behind the mirrored doors. For the office, I always choose natural colours that don't draw attention --- mud, rain clouds, the sky with a pall of smoke. When Mel was a teenager she looked at me one morning and said, ' If you stood next to a filing cabinet, you'd be invisible.' Exactly!'
On modern ( or not so modern) Australian mentality:
'Chanel got it right on the plane coming here. Don't look back. It's not the Australian way. That's the problem with Aboriginal people --- they're a reminder of the past. Who feels comfortable facing up to old mistakes? It's the reason why pictures of environmental degradation are banned. If I knew any Aboriginal people, I 'd tell them, 'Please stop reminding everyone that you belong to the oldest civilisation on earth. Don't you see what a disadvantage that is? Your history.' The whole point of Australia is a bet on the future.'
Hilarious until the seriousness sets in. Modern satire at it's best.
Loved this contrast of societal prejudices on issues of immigration, misogyny and ageism set in 1990's France and near modern Australia from the perspective of young Lili and settled Lyle. I think this book is brilliant 👏 👌 😀 & I hope to see it on the Stella list for 2022.
Perhaps my timing was wrong to read this during the festive season or when the world at whole is vulnerable but here are my thoughts. Two books within the one, with covers indicating which may have been best to read first. The two stories are not connected and should be read as standalone. Intentional confusion reflects the confusing experience migrants go through when migrating. The scary monsters are racism, ageism and misogyny and are elements that seem to never disappear and continue to leave a stain on society. Australia does have a shameful history with them all but at the same time I can’t name a country that doesn’t. The stories are short and didn’t have much substance. The defamation of Australia and it’s culture was a continual theme throughout both of the books to the point it was cringe worthy. The banning of Islam was an interesting plot choice to make, given how highly unlikely Australia would be to enact this, in such a multi-faith country. I have witnessed the best and worst of humanity, the love and inclusivity and the suspicion and ignorance in regards to migrants. A book is a platform to reach out to so many and can spread powerful messages if executed the right way. Unfortunately in this instance, the experience fell short for me. However, this is just my opinion and I encourage you to read the blurb and see if this book sounds right for you.
I really enjoyed this book and while you could read the two novellas separately it was interesting to ponder over the common ideas. There is also a lot of humour in these stories ( I laughed allowed at the names of streets and people), however the story of Lyle does take a very dark turn. This dark turn made me think of Richard Flanagan’s novel, The Living Sea of Waking Dreams. The themes of racism, colour and religion are explored in the past and a potential future. As Lyle and his wife, Chanel, suggest should immigrants obliterate their past in order to assimilate? What are the dangers? Ultimately I felt bot Lyle’s and Lily’s stories presented many questions about identity and the importance it plays in accepting and understanding who we are. Just because you choose to ignore or hide your heritage will this alleviate a feeling of exclusion? and will the fear of being shunned ever go away?
“The state is the coldest of all cold monsters” is a Nietzsche quote that serves as one of two epigraphs to open this book. The other is “How does it feel to be a problem?” by W.E.B. Du Bois. And there we have it: the themes laid out for those two novellas, about 100 pages apiece, that seem otherwise unrelated except for the shared themes of racism, xenophobia, misogyny, ageism. Each centres on an Asian immigrant to Australia. The first involves Lili, a young brown-skinned woman of unspecified Asian background whose family had emigrated to Australia when she was young and who is now living in the south of France, working as a teacher. Lyle is the middle-aged, firmly middle-class protagonist in the second novella, living in a Melbourne suburb in a near-future Australia, where he and his lethally ambitious professional wife aim all their efforts at shedding their Asian background and thoroughly assimilating. They’re living under a totalitarian government that has made it illegal (and “disappears” offenders) to mention climate degradation, though clearly things have proceeded apace, with permanent fire zones and underwater tours of the now defunct Great Barrier Reef.
There are many acute observations that one can assume were informed by the author’s own lived experience, as her family emigrated from Sri Lanka to Australia when she was 14, but none are more painful than Lyle’s desperate, but ultimately fruitless, attempts to fit in and be accepted as a “real” Australian.
Scary Monsters was an interesting and thought-provoking read that included themes of racism, misogyny and ageism. I personally enjoyed Lili's story most, and I think part of that was the fact that, in comparison to the Lyle narrative, it introduced its themes and messages more subtly. That didn't lessen their impact in any way, but I felt less preached at while reading Lili's story than I did while reading Lyle's. I also engaged more with Lili as a character. The issues de Kretser raises in this work are all important ones, and I think Scary Monsters highlights them in a way that is engaging as a story while also offering food for thought. De Kretser's prose style is easy reading, so this is also a book you can move through at a good pace. For me, it was a four-star read.
I received this book as a free ARC from the Publisher in exchange for an honest review.
i would have read a whole novel from Lyle's perspective; tell me more about this future Australia! i didn't really care for Lili's part though- it was mostly vibes... the two parts didn't really work together for me and somebody should probably explain to me why they had to be connected (also, how? 80s France and Future Australia don't seem to have that much in common. apart from racism and xenophobia but when is that not an issue.) in my opinion the two perspectives work as individual novellas but left me overall a bit unsatisfied.
edit: someone explained the connection to me and i get it now
Huh - that was something. Felt weirdly detached from all of the characters. Overall, I think I prefered Lyle's part which is a very in your face dystopian satire over Lili's very realistic one. Intitially, I liked the idea of the book being split in two, also loved the act of turning it, but now I wish there would have been more intersections between the parts. I feel like I am missing part of the novel's genius but it just wasn't for me. 2 1/2 stars.
“It was the beginning for me of thinking about why some people had history, and other people had lives.”
Scary Monsters tackles misogyny, ageism and racism in two eerily uncomfortable novellas. One is the story of Lili, set in 1980s France. The other is about Lyle, living in near-future Australia. Both are migrants of Asian descent.
Lili's story is unsettling. As a woman, those cowering feelings for fear of advances and violence from men are something all easy to empathise with. She exists at a time where the Yorkshire Ripper is terrorizing women. Her neighbour downstairs lurks in the shadows and his subtle advances are often of a creepy nature. Alongside these feelings, we are met with the maddeningly casual and sometimes just plain overt racism that Lili has to face. She often has to prove the legality of her visa while she watched North African immigrants herded up in squares for deportation.
Lyle lives in dystopic Australia where bush fires rage all year round, the infamous GBR is now no more than a mausoleum of bleached corral and trash, and there is an over-arching government that can repatriate anyone from the country they like who has at least one grandparent from another country. Islam is banned and ex-Muslims are forced to attend Sunday church services. Pandemics are a part of near memory. But it is dangerous to talk of all these things. To top it off, Lyle must contend with fears for his two children - one living a exotic global lifestyle, the other who has submerged themselves into a mysterious green community. And then there is Ivy. His mother. Left with quite an inheritance from her dead husband (Lyle's step father), Ivy is a quirky old lady who refuses to see the doctor for her ills and is relatively happy in her existence: often throwing left field comments at her son Lyle, who has to work through the complexity of their relationship.
The book is literally flipped, which left me amused and confused to begin with, but the author explained this confusion is meant to symbolise the migrant experience. You can chose to begin with either, so I started with the past. Lili's story comes across seemingly light-hearted but slowly delves into the deeper and darker themes of misogyny and racism. It highlights the power of loneliness, which no doubt, is often a terrifying part of the migrant experience. Then I traveled with Lyle to future Australia. I was mortified with the landscape set but oddly found myself laughing in moments of absurdity. Lyle and his wife of Chanel are consumed with "fitting in" to the Australian lifestyle, which appears to leave Lyle in constant terror. He struggles to assimilate with the the new normals, and with the individualistic dreams of his wife. This novella particularly focuses on racism and horrifically, ageism.
My only criticism, and this comes from the type of reader I am, is that both endings of the novellas are very opaque and open to interpretation. Don't read this book expecting a clear ending (I do like my clear endings). I finished with a complex set of emotions - some I understood and some I will be processing for some time. I imagine this feeling of unsureness and confusion are a drop in the bucket of emotions migrants feel moving to new countries.
Thanks to Allen & Unwin for the free copy for an honest review.
I like de Kretser’s writing and have read most of her work, enjoying some books more than others. This one is rather strange. I gather that in hard copy it has two ‘front’ covers - one showing cherry blossom and one showing a cherry (fruit). The reader can choose which story to read first. The cherry blossom one is titled Lili and set in France in the early 80s. The other story is titled Lyle and is set in Sydney in the not too distant future. Reading on Kindle I had to choose which story to read first. I chose Lili as it seemed logical to begin with the past. I’m not sure if I would have responded differently if I’d chosen to read Lyle first. There seems little connection between the two, other than to show racial prejudice, especially in Australia. Lili and Lyle are both Asian immigrants - presumably from Sri Lanka where de Kretser is from.
I suspect that Lili is partly autobiographical as de Kretser spent time in France when she was young. She peoples her story with appealing characters, some reserved, some flamboyant. Lili herself is under confident. She delights in the sights, sounds and tastes of Montpellier, where she teaches English, but she is also fearful of what lurks in dark alleys and in dark corners of memory.
Lyle is a fiercely satiric piece about an Australia where Islam has been outlawed and an Amendment passed that allows assisted dying to happen much more readily. Lyle works in a Department which keeps tabs on people and identifies if any who have an immigrant background have committed an offence that should lead to their deportation. Like any good satire, there is sadly enough basic truth to this, just taken to extremes.
There are always dogs in de Kretser’s fiction (it’s one of the reasons I like it) and Lyle’s story begins with the euthanasia of the family dog, really just for convenience sake. Later the question of whether Lyle’s mother, Ivy, should ‘take the Amendment’ becomes a major focus. It sounds grim stuff but it is often blackly humorous.
So for me, two separate stories, each appreciated in a completely separate way. Three and a half stars rounded up.
Scary Monsters is a book featuring two novellas of equal length by Australian writer Michelle De Ketser: one is set in the past and the other in the future, and you can start from either depending on which end of the book you pick (an intriguing concept). Lyle works in an institute that controls citizen information in an alternative, uchronic version of modern day Australia where Islam has been outlawed, dissent and any form of critique, for example of environmental policies, is dangerous and everyone strives for total assimilation. Lyle and his wife Chanel, who live with his mother Ivy, have even changed their names. Lyle is confused about his complex, multicultural identity, but his yuppy-ish wife is more determined to leave it all behind: what are they willing to sacrifice and what length are they going to go in order to perfectly fit in? An indictment of Australian and generally speaking contemporary politics, at a personal and institutional level and a chilling study of racism and conformism. I loved the way the author manipulates point of view, making us enter the mind of and sympathise with the characters and plunging us in an atmosphere of laid-back normality where shocking truths come as absolute surprise.
The author employs the same technique of letting us into a characters’ mind and surprise us in Lily’s story. It is set in the eighties and features a young girl – also Australian with a dark skin and immigrant background – working as a teaching assistant in Montpellier. Themes are still racism, mysoginy/identity/body politics issues and ageism. It is more subtle and uneventful – more of an attentive psychological study and not always a page-turner, which makes sense as these novellas, showing how horror can penetrate daily life, do not rely so much on plot as on close observation and psychological investigation. While I understand and admire the concept and the bravura, I did not always find it gripping. Probably a case of it’s me and not the book as this is still an excellent, veritable exploration of racism and the pressure to conform.
This was my first Michelle de Krester book. Based on the blurb, I expected stories about the migrant experience, possibly with some kind of essential link between them since the two halves are two separate stories and can be read in any order.
I read the Lili part and then Lyle, so I'll review them in order:
Lili: 1 Star This part was incredibly dull for me because not much happens plot-wise and the whole thing is about a transient bit of travel rather than an immigrant experience. I assumed the lynchpin relationship between Minna and Lili would resolve in some meaningful way, but it never does and nothing else of note happens. The best parts of this were the scant descriptions of the danger sense all women have venturing in the dark when there is a creepy man trying to get access to her nearby. Overall, I was bored and didn't get anything meaningful out of this part.
Special shout out to this contender for worst sentence in this book: "A week had passed since he went away forever, but my small, high breasts still grew warm as I thought of him."
Lyle: 2 Stars Lyle's story is certainly more grounded in the migrant experience but the satire is far too clumsy and heavy-handed for me to enjoy. I enjoyed it initially as a change from the boredom of Lili's story, but quickly the satire became too obvious to enjoy. There are grains of interesting ideas in here, such as discarding your old identity to assimilate, judging other immigrants as lesser than, despite being an immigrant yourself, and the idea of dealing with older people when you come from a culture where assisted dying for the elderly is unthinkable. None of these come to much and the characters are all unlikeable caricatures so not interesting.
Overall, I gave this book a two for the grains of interesting ideas but otherwise I did not enjoy this at all.
Scary Monsters had me singing the David Bowie song whenever I looked at the cover, but drove all else from my head when I was reading. It is two novellas, each with its own cover, and you can choose the order in which you read them (I chose Lyle first). Don't be fooled by the cover art, they are both dark. Lili is set in the early 80s and Lyle in the not-too-distant future. Both characters migrated to Australia when they were young, and the issue of belonging is a scary monster for each, and racism, misogyny and ageism permeate the book. Lili is teaching English in France before going to university, and her story is about friendship, power, and growing up. Lyle lives with climate crisis, extreme pressure to conform in a believable dystopian future. Disturbing, beautiful, darkly humorous, clever and thought-provoking, it might be my favourite de Kretser novel.
Unlike the physical book the audiobook doesn’t give you the immediate option of ‘which side to open first’ (unless you scroll through the chapters, of course). So I began with Lili in Montpellier in 1981 [Fa-fa-faa-fa, fa-fa-faa-fa] and her escapades as an assistant (read that in a French accent) in a high school. Then we have Lyle in some dystopian version of Melbourne (Sydneysiders, please 🤦🏻♀️ what is it with you lot?) with his egregious wife Chanel. I quite like the names given to the streets in his far flung suburb: Spumante Court, Blue Nun Road, Cold Duck Parade - don’t they bring back memories 😵💫🤕 I’m now going to read the actual book - starting the other way round. As always, de Kretser’s writing is just right
Racism, Ageism and Misogyny are the scary monsters in this strange and hard-to-read novel. It's told as two books attached to each other. When you finish one you literally flip the book around and start the other.
TW: dog death. Lyle's side starts with a story about putting the family dog down and it had me in tears. Oddly I feel like it was important to note that because I didn't cry when they put an elderly lady down.
Lili's side of the book was easier to read because it takes place in the 80's so I could place most things. Still incredibly sad, yet darkly humourous.
Idk this book is so very weird and I feel strange for reading it. Like I'm not "smart enough" to get it or something.🤷🏻♀️
This was a great book. It comes with two covers (back and front) and you get the choice of which to read first. One is set in the near future and one in the near past. Lyle's story is of a middle-aged man, an immigrant from Asia, trying to make a life in an outer Melbourne suburb. Lili's story is about a young woman from Australia living in the South of France. Both are about immigrant experiences and touch on many social issues. I loved Lyle's story. Lili's was good but not as good.
Underwhelming. Lili is a moderately interesting story, but very plainly written. I saw the themes of migration & racism, but they weren't really developed. Similarly, Lyle is a moderately interesting story, but the satire is very overt - not at all nuanced & subtle. I think other readers are getting more from this book than me ...
A new de Kretser novel is always a cause for celebration. Twice the Miles Franklin Award winner, she is one of Australia’s most intelligent and fearless novelists. She always manages to tackle issues that others would find daunting, and yet her books deliver a light tone and fast narrative that they avoid disheartening the reader. The results are always extraordinary and rewarding. You find yourself carried along and the details accumulate as you go, until everything comes into a startling and unforgettable focus.
Michelle de Kretser’s latest, "Scary Monsters", is a diptych of a book, being two narratives hinged together, with different cover images and tones but shared themes. One story is of the past, one of the future. You can read them in either order, (and I still ponder which is the best to start with, and if there is even a best choice at all). The voices and concerns of each piece seem so distinctly different that you wonder how they can share an author. It is the underlying themes (of migration, memory and monsters) that tie them together, the sections being the before and after of our ‘now’, like the cover images of each; cherry blossom (past),and cherry fruit (future).
One story, "Lili", is of the past, an emotional tale of a 22-year-old woman from Melbourne finding her feet as a language teacher in Montpellier, France in 1981. It tells of friendships tested, stereotypes failing, disillusionment and wonder as the country behind the postcards is revealed. Lili is of an unspecified Asian background, and her mixed ethnicity is soon both a magnet for racism and a token of the exotic to be celebrated. This side of Scary Monsters is beautifully evocative of its time, rich with textures and cultural detail in food, fashion, music, language and attitude. The young characters have a simplistic approach to life filtered through their stylistic ideas of France, complete with shallow and muddled existentialism and Marxism. But their keen enthusiasm and self-belief soon come up against the threats of class prejudice, bigotry, male-perpetrated violence and basic human hypocrisy.
There is some wonderfully descriptive writing in Lili, and the eponymous protagonist is a perfect mixture of yearning, hope and fear. It is impossible not to care for her as she tries to find her path betwixt her romantic ideals and uncomfortable reality. This is the very moving and human side of the book, and we love Lili’s playfulness and sensuality. We remember friends that were somewhat like hers, full of art, fire and passion. People of my age remember a world when we were twenty-two in the ‘80s; when our lives were set against game-changing political events and a new society seemed possible. Looking back is not all nostalgia. You remember the horrible lack of safety for women on the streets for one. With hindsight you also see chances squandered and errors born. You see the nuances, and the casual hatred of the other. You see misunderstandings and things you’d not really noticed at the time: misogyny, violence, racism and injustice. Such is Lili’s world.
Now flip to the book’s other side and you’ll find another story. "Lyle" is told by a male narrator from Sydney and is a much colder experience. Lyle’s life is set in a dystopian future which is too much like our present, only slightly extrapolated. A judgmental and self-serving bureaucrat from the Department, Lyle believes himself to be an exemplary citizen and family man, responsible and even compassionate.He hates friction. He is trying to achieve what he is supposed to achieve in an Orwellian and sanitised society and is adept at looking the other way when required. He is naturally unbothered by the mysterious new viral outbreaks, the smoke-filled skies and the rural refugees of a society divided by inequity and environmental disaster. He looks forward always, avoiding complications from the past, including his immigrant background. Unfortunately his mother Ivy is both a complication and a symbol of the past. But there is the Amendment to help with that inconvenience ...
The "Lyle" story is brilliantly observed socio-political satire at its best. At times, I found it reminiscent of Evelyn Waugh. It is beyond sharp, and with an infectious deep and dark humour that is laugh-out-loud. As she has done in past novels, de Kretser deftly skewers the hypocrisy of modern Australia; how we imagine ourselves to care about others in a land of the fair go, whilst actually actively marginalising.This novel savagely targets sexism, racism, ageism, Islamophobia, generational clashes, patronising no-policy politicians, corporate co-option, work performance fears, and social anxiety. The immigrant characters seek to be invisible except when it comes to acceptance, promotion, or love. It seems better to reinvent your life story, and accept the promise of white homogeneity and its dream career opportunities. All that sounds dire, but the author’s skillful touch keeps you securely nestled in the narrative, and thoroughly entertained by her lampooning of the familiar. The reader recognises Lyle, his family and colleagues immediately. We live in his world just a step before him and his is a world of our making. It is chilling stuff.
Scary Monsters, much like Michelle de Kretser’s previous novel, "The Life to Come", is a dangerous and life-changing experience for the reader. The smooth edges of her graceful writing make you feel safe but you get cut with precision all the same.The reader is confronted with questions about their own truthfulness, ethics and complicity. Am I like Lyle? Is my day-to day more important than care of the sick and elderly? Am I like Lili and her friends? Do I see the mistreatment of immigrants and count my lucky stars that it's not me as I look away? There are many scary monsters in this book, and some of them look like us. For the sake of expediency we fail to see how inequality and destruction is being built in front of us as we swallow political slogans and line up on our teams. We kid ourselves we got here on merit as we network and reinvent a more fluid identity to fit social needs.We balance the books by selling mineral commodities whilst paying lip service to climate change protocols. How do we feel about all this? Is it a case of “let’s not talk about that, what’s on TV”? "Scary Monsters" highlights an Australia that doesn’t like to look back, but isn’t too keen on looking forward either; a nation that fails to embrace reconciliation on so many levels. We prefer to look away.
For a book set in the past and the future, "Scary Monsters" is a contemporary novel in every sense of the word. It is a real right-here, right-now moment. A novel born from the lockdown times, it speaks of social control, geographic inequality, and splintering community rifts. This book is a much needed cautionary tale, a flawless mirror; and a moral medicine we should all take. No one writes like Michelle de Kretser. Her novels get into your head and stay there, changing you all the while. And book clubs could spend a year on this one! There are many sub-themes, inventive in-jokes and references, as well as the familiar de Kretser dogs and flowers. I love this book. "Scary Monsters" is an incredible and audacious creation; rich, deep and dark. I urge you to read it. It will garner awards and all that, sure, but it is such a great read.