Amnesia

by Peter Carey

I am never sure whether to include in this blog those books that I fail to read to the end.  I gave up on this one about a third to half way through.

I had picked it up on the spur of the moment from my local library in Bishops Cleeve – a source of great solace, inspiration and, most of all, little moments of pleasure and anticipation since my retirement.  I have read several of Carey’s books; indeed, it surprises me that none of them seems to appear on this blog, which must mean that I haven’t read any of them since I started recording my reading in this way, about six years ago.  My catalogue of Careys: Jack Maggs, The True History of the Kelly Gang, Oscar and Lucinda (didn’t enjoy this one), Parrott and Olivier in America (mixed feelings, but a good read).  I love the way that Carey is able, in his fiction, to speak in very different voices.  He brings Australian history and culture to life in a way that impresses and delights.  Of course I must miss many of the cultural references, not being an Australian myself.  But I feel that Carey’s novels help me – a little bit – to get under the skin of his countrymen and -women.

So why did I give up on Amnesia? I think it was just a case of not being in the right ‘place’, mentally, to digest a story involving some quite nasty people, scary moments, violence, hatred and a plot that was taut but not quite satisfying enough for me at that point.  When you are going through tough emotional experiences in your own life, perhaps you don’t need to read about characters (and not very sympathetic ones at that) who are teetering on the edge and behaving badly.  You also need – or I do – a straightforward plot and a satisfying outcome.  After taking this book back to the library, I turned to Dickens.

Afterthought:

30 Days in Sydney: A Wildly Distorted Account is the only non-fiction of Carey’s that I have read.  I picked up this book while in Sydney, visiting a museum shop in the Rocks area.  This book helped me gain more insight into Australia than perhaps any other experience.  It balanced my personal observations of the country and its people.  Come to think of it, perhaps I should read this book again, before embarking on more of Carey’s fiction.