Tag Archives: Book review

There is much to be done to extract women from the shadows of a history recorded by men. Anna Funder has certainly contributed to that endeavour with her fourth offering, ‘Wifedom: Mrs Orwell’s Invisable Life’ (2023).

The tenacity and effort it takes to erase women from the narrative is brought to bear by Funder, and it is evident she has taken great skill and care to undo what was done to Eileen Blair. The book is comprised of many short and sharp chapters spanning 400 pages, followed by 50 pages of footnotes. The chapters range from biography, memoir, the writing manifesto, and feminist commentary. The story that unfolds is a page-turner. It is intelligent, entertaining, informative, frustrating, and belongs on every person’s shelf who is interested in wading through the muck of patriarchy to get a little closer to a History, yes, the one with a capital H, where women can exist.

The book is a record of a life that was deliberately undermined by the husband when it was lived and ignored ever since by the ten male biographers of the husband that have come after. It is also aiming a beacon at the insidious nature of patriarchy and misogyny, dished out by a man who is, and rightly so, known for calling out classism and political ideologies that seek to oppress. Funder looks critically at the contrasts. By cleaning up the context where several great works were written, Funder unashamedly laments the character of the man who wrote them. Wifedom is a book that will appear on the curriculum in no time at all.

Chubby mangoes

 

The Coconut Children (2020) published by Vintage (Penguin Random House Australia) amalgamates an intense teen spirit that breaks through intergenerational trauma, lyrical prose, and an incredible human insight that belies the author’s age. Essentially a bildungsroman novel that you won’t find in the YA section of your favourite bookstore or library due to its sophistication. Pham is now just nineteen but was only a teeny sixteen when she penned the first draft. Set in Sydney’s Cabramatta in the late 1990’s the story follows sixteen year old Sonny and her childhood friend Vince as they navigate their journey back to each other after Vince’s two year stint in juvie. Pham’s voice is unique and quite unforgettable. Her mangoes are chubby and her handsome troubled boy drinks sugar cane juice.  It is set firmly in the present as we only get the odd rare glimpse of the past, such is the pain it represents. The story of Sonny and Vince unfolds and takes flight from under the heavy blanket of traumata their parents and their wider community, experienced as Vietnamese refugees. Balancing the trauma is the beauty of the writing and arc, the teenage crush we are introduced to at the beginning and the depth of the real connection that is realised, can only be revered and coveted. Well done Vivian Pham.