The Sun Walks Down by Fiona McFarlane
Synopsis /
In September 1883, the South Australian town of Fairly huddles under strange, vivid sunsets. Six-year-old Denny Wallace has gone missing during a dust storm, and the whole town is intent on finding him. As they search the desert and mountains for the lost child, the residents of Fairly - newlyweds, landowners, farmers, mothers, artists, Indigenous trackers, cameleers, children, schoolteachers, widows, maids, policemen - explore their own relationships with the complex landscape unsettling history of the Flinders Ranges.
The colonial Australia of The Sun Walks Down is unfamiliar, multicultural, and noisy with opinions, arguments, longings and terrors. It's haunted by many gods - the sun among them, rising and falling on each day that Denny could be found, or lost forever.
My Thoughts /
First and foremost, a huge thank you to Allen & Unwin for providing me with a copy of this publication, which allows me to provide you with an unbiased review.
Fiona McFarlane is an Australian author, best known for her book, The Night Guest, which was published back in 2013, about a retired widow who lives alone and suffers from dementia. It won the Voss Literary Prize and the UTS Glenda Adams Award for New Writing at the New South Wales Premier's Literary Awards. It was also shortlisted for the Miles Franklin Award, the Stella Prize, and the Guardian First Book Award. In 2017, McFarlane won the Dylan Thomas Prize for her collection of short stories titled, The High Places.
The Sun Walks Down is this author’s latest offering.
I’d like to begin by acknowledging the Traditional Owners of Country throughout Australia. I would also like to pay my respects to Elders past and present.
The setting of the story is the Ikara-Flinders Ranges in South Australia. A place of myths and legends. A place protected and surrounded by ancient laws and cultural practices. A land full of meaning and purpose to its original inhabitants.
Life on the Plains.
Prior to the arrival of the first European settlers, the area now occupied by the city of Adelaide - called Tarndanya (red kangaroo place) - was open grassy plains, interspersed with patches of woodland, mainly mallee box, she-oaks and acacias, and scattered red gums and blue gums. The River Torrens (Karrawirra Parri) was lined with a dense red gum forest. It wound its way from the foothills across the plains to feed its waters into the Reedbeds (Witungga - 'reedy place') at Fulham. Sounds beautiful, doesn’t it?
But even in1883, when the story in this book takes place, you can see that colonisation has resulted in inequity, racism, and the disruption of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultures.
The story begins with a storm. Not the kind that brings thunder and rain. This storm brings with it an advancing wall of gritty red dust and debris. Reducing visibility and creating hazardous travelling conditions. Swallowing everything in its path.
Six years old, Denny Wallace, is terrified that the approaching dust storm is some kind of a bad spirit. So, he runs away and hides in hope that the spirit won’t find him.
Lost on the great Flinders Ranges, Denny’s journey to find home is played out over the course of a week, with McFarlane breaking the story into days – day one, night one, day two, night two and so on.
The entire town and surrounding townsfolk become involved in the search to find Denny. McFarlane’s cast of characters is generous, from Indigenous trackers to Afghani cameleers, from shearers to schoolteachers, from uptight landowners to the [altogether useless] local vicar.
I’ll admit to having trouble in the start of the book with the author’s writing style. I found it overly descriptive. The sun, a ball of burning orange, dominates like a powerful, all-seeing deity. However, the author notes that she was inspired by the disquieting beauty of the Flinders Ranges, which is littered with the stone ruins of the colonial farms and towns that failed to thrive there in the late 19th century. I found the landscape extremely unsettling, and was struck by the appropriateness of that word: I was encountering a place with a long history of unsettlement, beginning with the violent dispossession of the land's traditional owners.
And I have to say, as the story progressed, so did I. I barely registered it as an annoyance, but merely fell into the beauty that was the story.
With its multiculturalism, inequities, racism (which is rife with noisy opinions), arguments, desires, and overarching gods The Sun Walks Down is a deeply disturbing yet beautifully written novel that is full of melancholy and joy. The author has done a wonderful job of bringing together the people and the place with those of the past.
This novel grew out of my love of the arid landscape of Australia’s Flinders Ranges, which is littered with the stone ruins of the colonial farms and towns that failed to thrive there in the nineteenth century… the disquieting beauty of this ‘ghost desert’ really crystallised, for me, the idea of Australia’s colonial history as a series of unsettlements, beginning with the violent dispossession of the land’s traditional owners… And alongside all these ideas, one main image pulled me through the story: a six-year-old boy out in the desert, alone. — Fiona McFarlane