Shallows

Dear Editor,

I write regarding Nancy Keesing’s complimentary but insufficient review of Tim Winton’s second novel, Shallows, in ABR (February–March, 1985). The reviewer’s expectations appear to have predetermined her evaluation of the novel’s worth. That Shallows exhibits the trademarks of a sophisticated narrative and structure, surpassing what one would normally expect from a young person, merely causes the reviewer to draw attention to the exceptionable nature of this fact rather than evaluate the merits of the novel in its own terms. As a result, her praise is patronising (albeit unintentionally).

A more serious consequence of such an emphasis on Winton’s youthfulness is that the fuller dimensions of the narrative have not been sufficiently related in the review. As Nancy Keesing correctly observes, it is true that Winton has captured the small­town life of Albany, WA. It is true that he provides many interesting points of information re: whales and whaling. So also does he capture the nuances of social conversation and the contradictions of political activism.

But to only note these aspects of the story is to miss the essence or heart of the narrative’s taut dramatic structure. Keesing has adequately conveyed to her readers that Shallows is a ‘ripping yarn’ but has barely hinted that it is essentially a meta­physical thriller, replete with a tapestry of interweaving layers of meaning.

The ocean, for example, not only acts as a battleground between the whalers and conservationists but is symbolic of the moral and spiritual turmoil being experienced by the main characters. The question of life’s ultimate meaning for Queenie and Cleve (the two main characters), becomes intricately related to the destiny of the whales who metaphorically embody moral ambiguity by beaching themselves (seemingly without purpose) at the end of the novel. To quote another reviewer of Shallows, ‘Winton writes of people who are searching for moral and spiritual structure in the universe – or who have given up the search but keep running smack into it …’ In Shallows, Winton has shown himself to be a ‘first rate’ writer. That he is ‘young’ is incidental. His work stands on its merit.

Trevor Hogan, North Carlton

Dear Editor,

A note about an item in Michael Johnson’s column in the February–March issue of ABR.

The name of Kate Grenville’s novel has been changed to Lilian’s Story. We wholeheartedly agree with Michael’s comments on Kate Grenville’s future – and the signs are that some of the more discerning British and American publishers agree with us! (Lilian’s Story will be released in June, at a price of $14.95).

Matthew Kelly, Sponsoring Editor – General Books, Allen & Unwin Australia

First Contact

Dear John,

Under Mark Rubbo’s column in your February–March issue there is a reference to the publication of a book titled ‘First Contact’ by Bob Connolly and Robin Anderson. Mark Rubbo suggests that this book is being initiated by Penguin in the UK but this is not so.

Following the highly successful documentary of the same name, this office, in conjunction with our London and New York offices, offered the book of the film to a number of New York and London publishers. Of the offers received the best was from Viking Penguin in New York and our clients accepted this offer so this firm is the initiating publisher not Penguin UK.

Following the sale to New York the offers made by London publishers were considered and it was agreed to go with Penguin UK for the British Commonwealth market.

The decision to offer this book in this way was made early on as there was never any doubt there would be a substantial market in Australia. To achieve the international sales the book deserved it was felt a commitment from New York in particular, as well as London, would more easily enable the book to follow the international success of the documentary.

Tim Curnow, Curtis Brown (Aust.) Pty. Ltd.

Festival

Dear Editor,

As one who attended the Writers Celebrate Sydney weekend during the January Festival of Sydney, I would like to correct the impression given by Michael Johnson in ABR’s February–March issue.

Certainly Sydney was bedevilled with a train strike and certainly the organisers – National Book Council, New South Wales, led by Tom Thompson – wondered whether anyone would come to this two-day free event held under the magnificent chandelier in the Vestibule of the Sydney Town Hall.

The response surprised everyone. People were waiting for the front doors to open from about one hour before the advertised commencement time.

Every seat (about 250) was filled for the first session and people sat on the floor or stood in the doorways. By the Sunday afternoon session, with extra seats added and all doors on both sides of the hall open, people were standing wherever they could find room: Town Hall employees estimated that 500 were present.

Those attending were a mixture of proven writers and general public, including overseas and interstate visitors present because of good media publicity. All were enthusiastic.

The speakers and chairmen, all highly regarded writers in a variety of fields, interested, informed and entertained the audience – thus providing living examples of what good writing should do. There was plenty of time for questions – and no dearth of these.

The festival committee and Sydney City Council expressed themselves as delighted with the event and with the hope that such a gathering of writers will become a regular feature of the Sydney Festival.

What was missing was participation by publishers (except small presses) and booksellers. They presented themselves in March, during what was euphemistically called Australian Authors’ Week, at Circular Quay where several authors with recently launched books were featured among stalls and igloos containing Australian books for sale. An attractive Book Fair like that would have complemented and enhanced the writers’ contribution to the Festival of Sydney.

Lysbeth Cohen, Wollstonecraft, NSW