3.5★
“They were all stuck, it seemed to Nina; held to ransom by qualities that were once considered harmless and even charming but had somehow become undesirable. Nina’s being forgetful had turned into being flaky, and Meg’s being good to bossy. And Amber’s wildness – well, it was hard to say if Amber’s wildness had changed, really, or just increased as it found more to feed on.”
Three sisters, stuck. Nina is the middle sister, and it’s her point of view through which we see the others, their parents, and a few incidental characters.
Families often have a habit of identifying children as the Smart One, the Sporty One, and so on, as if a child couldn’t be more than one thing or that two children couldn’t wear the same hat. As children, Meg, the eldest, is described as dependable, reliable, and caring; Nina is artistic and studious; much younger Amber is a beautiful, charismatic performer.
Meg is now stuck as nosy and interfering; Nina as thoughtless; Amber as spacey and out of control. There is nothing charming about them, and they barely have working relationships with each other.
But bossy Meg, is staging an intervention. She is taking the three of them on a ‘holiday’ (or so they have told Amber), and although Nina wanted to back out, Meg won the day. Meg is driving, and all are glum, until a family memory pops up that makes them all smile.
“it was something that hadn’t happened since Nina was, say, fifteen. The three of them, together, breathing the same air, electrified by something vast, something immeasurably bigger than they were; the three of them like their own cluster of molecules, united, bobbing and clinging in the great roiling synthesis of the world.”
Chapters describe events from their past, so we can see how they each came to be the way they are. Meg has become a nurse, perfect for someone as caring as she is, but it also gives her some authority as a fixer: I know what’s best for you.
Nina fluctuates wildly from feeling special to feeling worthless, depending on which sex affair she is having (she never calls them love affairs). She is currently going through a period of self-flagellation of sorts, wearing uncomfortable op shop clothes, not washing, and eating scraps of food from other people’s plates in the canteen.
“Nina felt the onset of self-pitying tears. What had she got so wrong? How was it that everyone else knew what it was they loved to do – or, if not loved, were at least satisfied with, like Gwen and her disabled kids, her bushwalking, or Meg and her anatomy textbooks and swimming and lentils?”
Amber is a straight-forward junkie who seems to have missed her calling as the next big film star, and Meg is convinced she is still traumatised from an incident on a film set where she disappeared for some time.
Gwen. She is Mum, and Robert is Dad, an artist. They are a self-contained pair.
“Gwen and Robert were not there to gaze upon them and ask fondly, ‘What are we going to do with you?’
Gwen and Robert were not there at all. They had distanced themselves. They were in their early sixties, and they were, you could feel it, ‘immensely relieved’ to have at last been able to get back to their own lives.”
You’re on your own, kids. Or at least that’s how it feels. Of course how the girls grew up with them in their small, cluttered, arty household, has helped to fashion them all, but the sisters are their own people.
The story of how the sisters cope (or don’t) and how they attempt to connect and reconnect, is well told. The writing is wonderful, the characters are clear, but—and I’m sorry to say there is a but—I didn’t like any of them or care much about what happened to them. This is a pretty grim read, and some of the storyline on their trip seemed far-fetched - where they were, how they lived and fended for themselves just felt wrong.
It’s the writing that kept me going to the end.
Thanks to Allen & Unwin for the review copy from which I’ve quoted, so quotes may have changed. (I hope not, because I do admire her writing.)