Shirley Hazzard (1931–2016)

There is a secret in Bay of Noon. My eyes did a double read when the words "I am in love with my brother" floated past my face. Did narrator Jenny mean what I think she meant? Is that the secret every reviewer alludes to when writing about Bay of Noon? Hazzard drops hints like pebbles disturbing tranquil waters.
In addition to being a story about a woman fleeing a dark secret, Bay of Noon is about the power of friendship. In the end, the reader is left with this question: do years of show more disconnection matter if the bonds of relationship are stronger than any prolonged length of time?
Confessional: None of the characters were likeable to me and maybe that was the point. I really did not care for Justin. His refusal of plain speak was annoying. Circumventing addressing matters of the heart the way he did would make me walk away.
Bay of Noon has been called a romance novel and I guess in some ways it is, but I didn't like any of the couples and I never really felt any of them were actually in love. show less

From the opening pages of this novel, I was captivated by Shirley Hazzard’s concise descriptive prose and her ability to poetically frame each scene. Even better was her skill of bringing each of her characters fully alive by digging into thoughts and motivations to reveal their true selves. Published in 1980, The Transit of Venus was Hazzard’s third published work, and it is considered by many to be her masterpiece. The story centers primarily on two Australian sisters, Caro and Grace show more Bell, who, in early adulthood, emigrate to England in the early 1950s. The book chronicles their lives into middle age, focusing on love, and marriage, and contrasting youthful hopes and dreams with life’s realities.

The sisters take much different paths in life. Grace marries a government bureaucrat and soon finds herself raising three children. Caro, on the other hand, has a passionate love affair with an engaged playwright which ends poorly, and this sets her life off on an unexpected trajectory. Hazzard has a gift of capturing their sensual relationships with the different men that come into their lives, both in marriage and by the temptations outside it. The story concentrates mostly on Caro, but Grace is given her due, as well. So too are the men in their lives, especially Ted Tice, whom Caro meets as a young woman and who becomes devoted to her throughout his life, even though his passion for her is not returned.

Through the story’s complexities, we are brought to care deeply about its main characters. It is not a light, easy read by any means, but the attention it demands is richly rewarded. The Transit of Venus assembles life’s passions, sorrows, betrayals and redemptions into a satisfying whole. Hazzard, who died in 2016 at age eight-five, is an author who might not be well known to the average reader, but should be. show less

I have read Hazzard’s Great Fire and, sadly, do not share Liam’s enthusiasm. First and foremost, I did not think that either Aldred Leith or Helen Driscoll, the two major characters, was particularly well-drawn or fleshed out. I found the story more about the relationship than about two individuals. In addition, I was surprised that I didn’t find either one of them particularly sympathetic, certainly not as much as, for example, as Peter Exley, a major character whom Hazzard show more essentially drops entirely when his story seems to get in her way. Her sudden and virtually total dispensation with this character I found inexplicable. Just as startling is her dropping of Ben, another central character for at least the first half of the novel. Not only is he essentially dropped, he is disposed of late in the book in a matter of a few quick sentences.
Hazzard spends little time drawing minor characters. Thus, Helen's parents barely register; they occupy one very early scene and then become stick figures, as are virtually all of the minor characters, with a couple noteworthy exceptions. Minor characters can be minor and yet well-drawn, with depth, fullness, and even a modicum of complexity. That simply wasn’t the case with Great Fire.
I thought the last chapters on Leith in England and Helen in NZ were overlong and added little to either the characters or the plot or even to Hazzard’s theme(s). I am also baffled that Hazzard reintroduces a very minor character (Raimonda Mancini) for all of a paragraph. Moreover, the introduction of so many new characters toward the end—Aurora Searle and an entire cast of people in NZ—felt like padding: it was beside the point, unnecessary to the plot or the theme(s), and ultimately more distracting than anything else. These chapters added virtually nothing to the picture we already had of Leith and Helen.
I also found most of the characters to be so self-involved that I honestly had trouble accepting them as real or as sympathetic. Yes, we are all self-involved to a degree. But not so deeply and constantly as the characters here are. Helen also seemed to me to be far too “wise” for her age. Few 18-year-old women talk or think as she does. Hell, few 28-year-olds, for that matter. Why does it bother me? Because, in the end, I found it very challenging to consider her a believable character.
The “tone” of so many conversations also seemed off: most people’s conversations do not wax philosophic all the time. Sometimes, sure. But virtually all the time? Angst, world-weariness, metaphysical speculation are constants here. Moreover, everyone speaks in the same voice: well-spoken, “literate” and not much like “real” people—or maybe I should say not the people I know. (Maybe that should be a lesson to me.) There is virtually no distinguishing one character from another: they all have the same tone, the same literate vocabulary, regardless of background, interests, or position.
All this said, I still think Hazzard tells a (mostly) interesting story and her themes are worthwhile and (mostly) well set out. She is a good writer—though I for one found her stylistic tics (sentences without subjects, sentence fragments) offputting. Having poked around a bit, I recognize that this book is highly regarded, so take my criticisms with a grain (or more) of salt. No doubt others (maybe most) will disagree. But that's my take. show less

"The Transit of Venus" is an elegant, verbally glittering exploration of the power of love -- or is it the love of power? "Love" in the novel takes possession of characters, in some cases dominating their lives for decades, and in others fleeting quickly away. The structure of the novel moves back and forth from one character (or set of characters) to another, illuminating and deepening each individual as it progresses. If it sounds like a complex novel it is, and the language in which it is show more expressed is as precise as it is poetic. Not an easy read, but a great book. show less