Big-hearted, moving and richly rewarding, That Deadman Dance is set in the first decades of the 19th century in the area around what is now Albany, Western Australia. In playful, musical prose, the book explores the early contact between the Aboriginal Noongar people and the first European settlers.
The novel's hero is a young Noongar man named Bobby Wabalanginy. Clever, resourceful and eager to please, Bobby befriends the new arrivals, joining them hunting whales, tilling the land, exploring the hinterland and establishing the fledgling colony. He is even welcomed into a prosperous local white family where he falls for the daughter, Christine, a beautiful young woman who sees no harm in a liaison with a native.
But slowly – by design and by accident – things begin to change. Not everyone is happy with how the colony is developing. Stock mysteriously start to disappear; crops are destroyed; there are "accidents" and injuries on both sides. As the Europeans impose ever stricter rules and regulations in order to keep the peace, Bobby's Elders decide they must respond in kind. A friend to everyone, Bobby is forced to take sides: he must choose between the old world and the new, his ancestors and his new friends. Inexorably, he is drawn into a series of events that will forever change not just the colony but the future of Australia...
Born in 1957, Kim Scott's ancestral Noongar country is the south-east coast of Western Australia between Gairdner River and Cape Arid. His cultural Elders use the term Wirlomin to refer to their clan, and the Norman Tindale nomenclature identifies people of this area as Wudjari/Koreng.
His novel Taboo won the Victorian premier’s literary award for Indigenous writing in 2019.
His other novels include True Country and Benang. He also writes poetry and short fiction. His professional background is in education and the arts.
‘We learned your words and songs and stories, and never knew you didn’t want to hear ours…’
This novel, winner of the 2011 Miles Franklin Award, is set in the early nineteenth century, when American whalers, British colonists and the Noongar people first made contact in the south of Western Australia. Much of the novel is set in a period of almost 20 years, and covers a stark change in the relationship between the indigenous and non-indigenous inhabitants. From their early reliance on the Noongar in the beginning, as the settlement becomes well established, the colonists come to see the Noongar as a problem.
Bobby Wabalanginy is the central character in this novel and, as the novel opens, he is a boy. Bobby grew up doing the Dead Man Dance, a symbol of first contact with the men from over the ocean's horizon:
`By the time he was a grown man everyone knew it had never been dead men dancing in the first place anyway, but real live men from over the ocean's horizon, with a different way about them.'
For Bobby, this was a dance which celebrated life and which all people could dance together. Unfortunately, the colonists with their newfound confidence in their established settlement had different views. Different peoples, different concepts of ownership, different views about sharing. Few people, from either group, saw things as flexibly as did the young Bobby.
`Understood that there were other people he must be with on his way to becoming a man.'
Dr Joseph Cross, who led the first contact group, was a wise leader. When he and Bobby work together, both sides learn from each other. When Dr Cross dies, he is buried (as he requested) beside his friend Wunyerun. A memorial is raised to Dr Cross, but there is no mention of the Noongar man beside him. This does not augur well for the future. We see, briefly, Bobby Wabalanginy in old age, putting on a performance for tourists: dancing, singing tales and launching boomerangs. Has Bobby become a clown?
`Bobby danced many of the people in the settlement of King George Town, and it was as if they had all come here to join in the festivity.'
This may be a novel set in the past but it holds a mirror in which could be reflected a different future. The novel is told through the eyes of white characters as well as black, of young people as well as old. And echoing through the novel are questions for the reader to consider: what if there was genuine friendship between equals? What if colour was seen as simply difference instead of a barrier? What if there was a place for indigenous expertise as well as the benefits of white settlement? The narratives do not have to be mutually exclusive, and in this book Kim Scott offers possibilities. So that Bobby's lament: `And we now strangers to our special places.' - need not be an immutable fact.
I enjoyed this novel. From the descriptions of the landscape, to the characters who occupy it, and the languages used - there is a shifting in the balance of power between the participants in the story as well as between the story and the reader. There are a number of different journeys contained within That Deadman Dance: coastal journeys, the business of whaling, the endeavours of hunting and farming. The characters come to life: especially Dr Cross; Bobby Wabalanginy; Menak, the tribal elder; Jak Tar,the escaped sailor; and Christine Chaine, once a childhood friend of Bobby's but later a very proper young white lady.
And I need to read the novel again, to more completely appreciate what Kim Scott has achieved.
You can dive deep into a book and not know just how deep until you return gasping to the surface, and are surprised at yourself, your new and so very sensitive skin. As if you’re someone else altogether, some new self trying on the words. (p86)
This is exactly what this entrancing new novel achieves. It is, as you read, as if all the preconceived ideas of this country’s history of Black and White relations fall away and a new paradigm takes their place. What if, Scott asks, the benefits of White Settlement and indigenous expertise were mutual and equally valued? What if there were a genuine friendship of equals? What if the companionship of children grew into adult love across the colour bar? What if the Noongar landlord had been welcome in the houses that the White Man built across his land? And, is it too late now?
Effortlessly, these new ideas insinuate into consciousness. Bobby Wabalangay dances his way through this novel challenging the sourness of the History Wars. He offers a new way of looking at the past and at the future. Scott has the moral authority to play with these ideas because he is a descendant of the Noongar People who have always lived on the south coast of Western Australia where the early whaling settlements were. Like Bobby he speaks both languages and listens in both.
I don't need to say much about the book itself, because there are already more than enough good reviews, both here, and on other forums. Put simply, it is the story of what might have been, the story of a clash of cultures, and the story of dispossession. When I first finished the book, I felt it was one that every Australian should read. But I am saddened by some of the Goodreads reviews: sure, not everyone has to like a book, and I agree that this one meandered through time and stories, but it is essential to stand back and look at a book like this objectively, to see it in the context of our history, to try to understand what it is telling us. By "our history" I don't just mean Australian history, but the history of humanity.
How many times have we heard this story? A group of people arrive in a new place, and without trying to understand it, tell the locals how they should live in it. Oh, by the way, the locals no longer have any access to traditional resources. This is the story of Australian white settlement, and the story of European settlement all over the Americas; the story of the Roman Empire - at least under some of its rulers - the story of Tibet. It's the story of so many more dispossessed peoples. It's a story that is currently being acted out, yet again, in places like Burma, Bangladesh and Syria. Don't we ever learn? No, not while people see history as irrelevant. That brings me back to some of the reviews, here and elsewhere, that say things like, "I'm not really interested in history," or, "this is about another culture so it's not relevant to me." George Santayana said, "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." Sadly, Kim Scott shows us one more terrible example of people ignoring the past.
This is not an easy book to read - the prose jumps around jarringly, requiring patience and not always in a pleasurable way. The tale, however, of intercultural encounters that inevitably eventually become dispossession, theft and murder, is compelling and so well told. The pervasive optimism of the central character - Bobby Wabalangay - and the refusal to let any character be a stereotype, stop the book from feeling grim, but at the same time, this is a sharp history about the conflict for resources, and the cost of that to Aboriginal peoples. The recurring imagery of the whale, for example, carries this story in miniature, as the European push towards whaling for profit both fuels the establishment of the colony, and then depletes the whale supply entirely, depriving Aboriginal groups of much needed fatty meat. Bobby Wabalangay's joy in European style whaling is as real as his pleasure in reading, and learning - but his attempts to forge unity between the groups are doomed by the relentless logic of expansion, growth and profit, which relentlessly denies the local people access to resources they need, and own. There's a real Deadwood feel to the book at times, as the more civilised the town becomes, the more callous, cruel and soulless it is. A part of my dissatisfaction with the book probably comes from the paucity of female characters. Women barely appear in the first half of the book at all - as if Indigenous women play no role in first contact. The few women characters in the second half rarely feel realised, either seen only through the eyes of the men, or so superficially drawn they barely exist. I found myself missing this perspective badly, as if the story was somehow lopsided. In the end, this was more of a chore to read than I wanted it to be. But I appreciated the complexity of the story - too often, the assumption is that Aboriginal peoples were dispossessed because of stupidity or racist individuals. This book, while featuring real people with their inevitably racist ideas as well as moments of connection and empathy, emphasizes a dynamic that pushes understanding aside, favouring conquestatorial approaches instead. In that, in humanises both the settlers and the local people, without sugar coating the bleak reality of how our modern nation was actually built.
This is the best thing I've read in ages. It's just beautiful. So restrained and so gorgeous and so happy and so sad. And so odd, in such a charming and incredibly warm way.
I live in Western Australia, which is where That Deadman Dance is set. I was really looking forward to reading a story about the history of my home - about the time that the Traditional Owners of the land, the Nyoongar people, welcomed English settlers in the area that eventually became the city of Albany. Albany was a whaling town - I remember taking a holiday there the year that the last whaling station closed - and That Deadman Dance explores the start of the whaling industry too.
Kim Scott appears to have researched for this book very thoroughly, and his acknowledgements make it obvious that he had a great personal investment in the story. And rightly so... it's an important story to tell. And on top of that it's won lots of awards. Which makes me all the more disappointed about not enjoying it.
So what were the problems? Well, there were three big ones....
1. Whilst I liked a lot of the characters, I didn't believe many of them. I don't know if I'm being fair, but I was constantly questioning why a character did this, or why they didn't do that. This kept me at arm's length the whole way through - whilst many characters were likeable, I couldn't get invested in them because I couldn't believe they were real. And that really mattered in this book more than most because of the message it was trying to sell.
2. I expected to feel the sense of loss that must have been felt by the Aboriginal people when my ancestors took advantage of their hand of friendship, and stole their land, and steamrolled their culture. I felt all this to some extent, but it was all undone in the last few pages when I just felt lectured at. That made me groan with disappointment.
3. Quotation marks are perfectly valid symbols, and their use actually makes it a lot easier for the reader. Why do authors feel the need to dispense with them?
Wow, this is a harsh review - it's not a terrible book. I suppose that's what happens when something with so much promise fails to deliver.
Kim Scott's That Deadman Dance is an intriguing book, a fictionalised account of 'the friendly frontier' in the early 19th century south coast of Western Australia. Scott writes from the perspective of his Noongar ancestors as well as detailed research of the journals and records of the period.
This is a bitter-sweet tale of missed opportunities and the inevitability of loss and dispossession shown through the prism of a handful of colourful characters - and particularly through young 'Bobby' Wabalanginy who stands between the two communities. Scott gives a sensitive rendition of motivations, misunderstandings and might-have-beens. He masterfully shows the white settlement through the eyes of the Noongar as well as the drive and ambition of European settlers. He evokes the beauty and wonder of the landscape. Both Doctor Cross and Bobby show another possibility for interaction between the Noongar and settlers.
I found this a gripping and immersive book, full of hope and sorrow. My only caveat was that the chronology of part one was difficult to follow and I struggled with the constant chopping between time periods and points of view but, by the first third of the book, the story began to flow in clearer channels and swept me away into its web of circumstance, character and setting. I can see why this book won the 2011 Miles Franklin Award - and is an important contribution to the literature of Australia.
Tales from frontier era Western Australia told from an indigenous perspective by Noongar author, activitst, and language scholar Kim Scott.
This is an important story and its an important story to tell correctly. The task Mr. Scott has set himself is ambitious: to tell the story of Australian colonisation with a First Nation voice. The kind of task that takes an incredible amount of subtlety and finesse, the kind of task many writers have failed to pull off.
There is perhaps a parallel to be made between the lyrical, almost whimsical, writing Scott uses and the book's incredible setting of South West Australia in the first half of the 19th Century, both are mythic and unreal, fluid and insubstantial as a memory. The narrative is impressionistic rather than linear, a style that I have read is supposed to mirror the story telling of Scott's ancestors. The subtlety of the writing is also matched by the subtlety of the narrative, there is no evil, only ignorance and badly executed good intentions. The ripple effect of actions long ago scar the present and the future. The story of colonial devastation is not a new pasture for fiction but it has perhaps never been told with such subtlety.
And, unfortunately, herein lies my gripe: Is it possible to tell a story with too much subtlety? There were a few times in this story when I began to wonder if what I was reading was part of a narrative or just writing.
This isn't necessarily a problem, lyrical, poetic writing is some of my favourite (see my review of Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian) but it needs to be anchored to some sort of scaffold. I need a reason to keep turning the pages. In fact at times I found this book completely joyless, the subtly of the technique came to feel a bit measured and lacking in any literary spontaneity. Of course, in a book about such complex subject matter one should hardly expect Californication, but there must be a richer middle ground than this.
I would say that this is a uniquely Australian problem. I found this book very similar to Thea Astley's The Multiple Effect Of Rain-shadow, a kind of spooky, dreamlike writing spearheaded by Tim Winton and that may capture something unique about the Australian landscape but is not always enjoyable to read.
I wanted to love this book. But I just found it an enormous struggle to finish it. I didn’t want to give up on it. And I did finish it (I hammered through it in 4 days, or it would have sat on my bedside table half read for 6 months). The writing was beautiful, & very poetic. But the style was awkward to me, and I never really fell into the rhythm of it. And I just could not engage with the story & characters. I found the narrative very disjointed & had a hard time piecing it together chronologically. I felt like I was getting an overall rough picture of the story told, but details vital to actually enjoying it were missing. And I’m sure the author’s descriptions of landscapes & whaling were wonderful, but they were too much for me, and very quickly the book became tedious. I was so relieved when I finally reached page 395, and could start reading something else.
Some times, as a reader, I need a bit of a push to read a specific book. Usually, this happens with books that I wanted enough to buy but then I struggle to fit it in between library reads and review copies.
So it was with this book. I bought it last year when I attended a Melbourne Writers Festival session which featured the author, Kim Scott, along with a couple of other authors talking about writing books from the indigenous perspective. In this case, Kim Scott is an indigenous Australian, a member of the Noongar tribe which originates in the far south western corner of Western Australia.
As soon as Lisa from ANZ Litlovers announced that she was going to run the Indigenous Literature Week this week (to coincide with NAIDOC week) I knew that this was the book that I was finally going to read! (NAIDOC originally stood for National Aborigines and Islanders Day Observance Committee although now it is more the name of the week than an acronym for something else).
Was the wait to read it worth it? I would have to say yes, but there is a bit of a disclaimer, but I will get to that in due course.
This novel asks a very simple question. What if, at first contact between native Australians and the British colonisers, things were different? What if the two groups worked together with mutual benefit, rather than be a story of domination and destruction? What if true friendship could be formed between the two groups, and by extension what lessons could we possibly take from this example today?
To read the rest of my thoughts about this book head to
The Deadman's dance is not a terrible book. However it also wasn't a very interesting book, at least to me. It probably mainly has to do with my lack of interest in Australian history but even a fictional retelling of the first settlement didn't keep my interest. Sadly, neither did the characters/ They were so unbelievable that it was hard to believe they were actually people. They didn't have much depth or personality. They seemed more like situations rather than actual people.
There is however one good thing about the book, and that is the writing. Scott has a gift for writing. His prose is almost perfect and the way he creates scenery, imagery, feeling and settings is ridiculously amazing. Though the prose was flowery, there was never a moment when the writing made me roll my eyes, unlike with other books that tend to use flowery prose.
definitely interesting subject matter that scott captures with realism (?) and such care. aboriginal life pre-colonisation is something i know so little about, so its so cool for scott to envision this part of history (an era of first contact, even if it’s also depressing.)
maybe pure historical novels aren’t for me, or maybe it’s just that slow, plotless novels where we’re also a bit disconnected from the characters aren’t easy to read. i’m sure I’ll find enough to analyse, i just won’t be as passionate about it as I would be for carpentaria oops
A wonderful book, one of my favorites. So this was first contact. Told from the point of view of a single character who is also all dispossessed indigenous people and who contains in him the entire history of first contact and subsequent dispossession, ‘That Deadman Dance’ explores how small misunderstandings arise in the interaction of two vastly different cultures, and lead to things more severe. How, perhaps, things might have been different. Of course, culture does not interact at all, it is the people in it who interact. Misunderstanding is a hallmark of being human. That is why this is a great book.
I can see why this book won the 2011 Miles Franklin award. It's a very powerful imagination of a 10 year period of early West Australian history. The point of view's main focus is on blackfella Bobby, but there are a multitude of voices, both black and white. Kim Scott poetically presents thoughts, feelings, spoken words and actions to bring things to life. There's a lot of play to balance the slowly unfolding tragedy of changes to the life and land. You learn a lot, reading this book. Too much whaling for me though.
A wonderful Australian novel full of the spirit of oral storytelling and the sound of language. If you don't mind forgoing a usual narrative structure you'll find lots to love; if you need quote marks to get by you'll probably want to keep looking.
NB Did I get it all? Not entirely. Does it matter? Not really.
While, Scott is a gifted storyteller, I wasn't able to connect with his characters. The characters all felt sort of superfical to me, like they had no depth. This was mainly because there are so many characters and Scott spends a little time telling the background of each one of them. They all had unique and interesting stories but I just didn't feel any connection with any of them. And I love a good character based story.
The main character in the story is Bobby, a Noongar boy, whom the story follows through old age. I was hoping that Scott would give more substance to Bobby, but I found that he was more of the archetype for The Fool character (his was a gifted performer in the story). There were times when I felt that Bobby character was starting to grow and deviate from The Fool character, only to fail. Even to the end, Bobby never really seemed to grasp the reality that increase number of European settlers and the rules they were imposing would mean to him and his people.
Now, the writing in That Deadman Dance is beautiful. Scott is a very gifted writer. In fact, the writing is what saved this story for me. But I will caution that it is not an easy read. This is literary fiction at its finest. I had to read this in bits and pieces and really take my time. While I did not like Scott's characters I did like his descriptions of the scenery. Even though he did not go into great details, he did give me enough information to envision the scenery in my mind. The whale hunting scenes were awesome.
Overall Recommendation:
I would recommend this with caution. That Deadman Dance is an interesting novel, but I don't think it's for people that aren't really literary fiction fans. If you like literary fiction I would recommend giving it a try.
I received That Deadman Dance by Kim Scott as an ARC.
Scott's novel, 'That Deadman Dance' is a powerful and pressing retelling of the colonisation of the King George Sound area in South Western Australia. His poetic writing leaves much to infer and that in combination with the way the text weaves in and out of past and future makes orientating oneself somewhat challenging initially. Later, once the reader is clear of characters, time and setting, the narrative becomes easier to comprehend.
This book is a stark reminder of the devastation caused by colonial settlement on the original inhabitants of Australia. The dispossession through the depletion of natural resources, disease and culture is clearly defined. Bobby, the lead character, a young Noongar boy who we see also as an older man, has to straddle between two worlds. Initially he does this with relative ease, but as time goes on, he understands the heartache and anger of his tribal elder, Menak, and begins to join in the resistance by his people. A resistance that is sadly most futile.
It was disappointing that the coughing disease took away, Cross, one of the few Europeans who appeared to respect and value the original inhabitants and did his best to accommodate their needs and wishes. His successor, Chaine, had little regard for the original inhabitants, and used them only for his own advantage.
Stories of whaling and their near extinction were also harrowing and acted as simile with what was happening to the Noongar people.
It was interesting to read about the clever ways of the indigenous people. How they queried the Europeans' decisions to build in cold windy places for example. I was reminded of the sustainable and respectful manner the Noongar people lived upon the land. This book left a significant impact on me and was a strong reminder of who was here first and the terrific wrong that was done.
I listened to the audiobook instead of reading the written word and I found it quite difficult to get into the book. Firstly, there were too many names (and 2 of them sounded similar to begin with) and then, I think there was also the timeline because I think (?) this was actually Bobby remembering the past? I dunno... as I said, I'm a tad confused. Will this be better in the written word? According to a review, the author did not employ quotation marks so um, I think I was actually better off with the audiobook which is rather disappointing.
Being a historical fiction about the early contact between the Indigenous people and the first European settlers, I knew it just wasn't going to have a good ending. Look at the country now, right? Still, I was surprised by just how sad and angry this book made me. These particular people, the Noongar, were known as friendly and to begin with, they shared a lot of their scant resources with the struggling European settlers. Yet, they are treated with such condescension & contempt.
As the European settlement begins to flourish, the natural resources dried up. Whales have either been fished out or driven away from the coast. Livestock dirtied the waters. Fences built as land is being claimed where originally it belonged to everyone. The Noongar are starving but no help was forthcoming and as they helped themselves, they are prosecuted instead.
That last speech by the protagonist (kind of a soliloquy) was so beautiful, it moved me to tears. And that ending broke my heart.
Written in beautiful lyrical prose, this book is set in the early 19th century in King George Sound, or what is now Albany, Western Australia. It outlines the friendships, learning, sharing, betrayals and misunderstandings, between the European settlers and the Nyoongar traditional land-owners. It is a story that begins on a hopeful note with the settlement's first leader, the open-minded Dr Joseph Cross, who asks to be buried next to his dear friend Wunyerun, but degenerates from this point. Significantly, Wunyeran does not have his name recorded on the grave, but Cross's only. The story follows the adventures of Bobby Wabalanginy, a talented youngster who acts as a conduit between both sides, learning the customs and languages of each with the same skill he applies to his dancing. He creates the dance he becomes famous for, the Deadman's Dance, imitating the actions of the puzzling strangers. The story also recounts the brutality of the American whalers and the slaughter of the giant beasts of the sea. A moving novel, my only criticism is I found it difficult to follow at times, things were often alluded to and I was left wondering, did that really happen?
With apologies to reviewer Lisa who first captured this quote from this utterly extraordinary book to encapsulate the experience of reading it.
'You can dive deep into a book and not know just how deep until you return gasping to the surface, and are surprised at yourself, your new and so very sensitive skin. As if you’re someone else altogether, some new self trying on the words.' (p86)
There is so much more that I could say, but it has been most eloquently said in other reviews. For me, the very best thing about this book was how it messed with my sense of time and linear story telling, until I learnt to slow down and enjoy the dream time. I long to hear it read out loud now.
The time setting and place - early settlers in Albany WA, whalers, interaction with the Indigenous people - were all interesting. The book's feature is the change in the White's attitude towards the Indigenous went from needing their help to active forms of exile, murder and abuse. I was hoping for an Aboriginal version of The Secret River but I found the style of the writing, the constant change of timelines and narrators hard to follow and not enjoyable.
An enlightening read focusing on the relationships between the increasing numbers of white settlers and the Noongar people - the native indigenous Australians in the Albany region of Western Australia. The novel is set in the early to mid 1800s, with the burgeoning whaling industry as the backdrop, and the attitudes and relationships between the races are seen to be constantly changing and evolving, with young aboriginal boy Bobby Wabalanginy often being the lynchpin between the two cultures.
Thoroughly enjoyable book, wonderful prose with endearing characters (Bobby, Menak etc). Although a work of fiction, it still presents an incredible insight into this time in history. I highly recommend this book.
Just couldn’t get into the writing style for this one. It was too opaque and too ‘literary’. The lack of quotation marks, the way the author went back and forth and the somewhat choppy style made it quite hard to read.
That Deadman Dance is an imagining of how first settlement went. It tracks the life of "Bobby" Wabalanginy, the Christian name fostered upon him due to his name being too difficult for the coloniser tongue. The Noongar people of what is now known as the Albany region had cordial relations with the first settlers. This is expressed through the relations with the Dr of the barracks. He shares food and language with the Noongar people, who in turn do the same.
With the passage of time and the building of the colony, relations between the Noongar people and the colonists deteriorate. Respect is not shown, new rules imposed, old customs wiped out. And we experience this all through the eyes of Bobby Wabalanginy who straddles the line between the blakfellas and the whitefellas.
From what was once promising beginnings ends as many colonisation projects do. In disease, death, dispossession. While the writing of Kim Scott is engaging and lyrical, I did find myself lost on occasion with shifting timelines and shifting personalities. Wabalanginy is our protagonist but often seems remote as a perspective. Other characters more culminations of stereotypes than properly rendered. And although the narrative rises and falls in conventional ways it often feels as if you are out to sea on the rocking decks that Bobby describes.
This is a beautifully told story about European and Aboriginal contact in the first half of the 19th century along the southern coast of Australia. A well deserved Miles Franklin Award winner. I've been reading lots of Australian First Nations writers lately and being set in WA, That Deadman Dance has been one of my favourites.
Appreciated the insights into how life likely was for indigenous people when Western Australia was colonised... the graciousness, humour, pain, consideration. At times I found the story slow and drawn-out, and yet that says more about me living in my culture rather than slowing down to appreciate the poetic ebb and flow of another culture.
Why did I take so long to get to this. What a wondrous, beautiful, compelling novel. I adored the musicality of the writing, and I adored and cared so much for Bobby. Brilliant!