Fiona Kidman

Every year the Ngaio Marsh Awards for New Zealand Crime Fiction include something that makes this reader marvel at the depth and quality of work coming out of that country. Dame Fiona Kidman came to THIS MORTAL BOY as (paraphrasing her own words) an accidental crime writer, but she has form in the central concept, where she has often recreated the past of characters, developing a fictional story based on true events or people. THIS MORTAL BOY is just such an undertaking.

Albert Black was the show more second last person executed in New Zealand, and I believe I saw somewhere that Kidman came across his story after talking to a witness to the events that lead to his conviction (this occurred in the mid 1950's). Black was Irish, born to a desperately poor family, an immigrant to New Zealand in search of prospects and a better life. Kidman takes readers back to Black's childhood in Ireland, and most tellingly gives us a glimpse into his families anguish at the conviction and the prospect of his execution. The novel concentrates on the story of Albert Black however, so we don't get the same sort of insight into the victim Alan Keith Jacques (aka Johnny McBride). Working backwards and forwards through the past and Black's life in New Zealand, Kidman seamlessly, tellingly, compellingly, draws a picture of a young man on the cusp of life who made the sorts of choices, and therefore mistakes, that many make.

Kidman has pulled off one of those forms of novel where a true story is woven into a fictional account that doesn't play fast and loose with the truth or the ultimate outcome. A fight over a girl, leading to Black's decision to arm himself with a knife, after which an encounter with the same man who beat him the night before, turned into a single knife blow that killed his rival in love and Albert Black was ultimately executed. The build up to this event provides real insight into a febrile society. Post war, social change had arrived in New Zealand, and young people, in particular are very different. The free love, drugs and rock and roll 1960's are on the horizon, whilst 1950's bodgies and widgies subculture was thriving. The tensions around the "generation gap" were starting to be felt and there was an overwhelming belief that the younger generation were out of control. Needless to say it's a heady mix for a young Irishman from a deprived background to land into. The opportunities that present themselves on his arrival in Auckland are almost too much for him to handle, and the smack in the head that is falling in love, sends him spiralling into some really bad decision making.

Somewhere in all of this, the line between fiction and fact becomes blurred in a manner that readers unaware of all the facts of Albert Black's crimes will be hard-pressed to pick. Kidman uses a series of letters from prison, accounts of final visits with friends and switching timelines and places to draw out a story of an immensely vulnerable young man in a time that's not best suited to understanding and forgiveness. In particularly heart-breaking fashion we also see the affects of his crime, trial and punishment on his mother. Back in Ireland, desperate to get to her son, to understand what has gone so horribly wrong, the portrayal of this woman is moving. You're left considering the ease with which young men do stupid things, a sneaking suspicion that murder was too harsh a decision, and the anguish of that mother and her belief in her son; in stark contrast to comments attributed to NZ Attorney General, John Marshall, "... we could do without these deplorable migrants". Readers have no option but to pause and consider if this is really what he said, what were the implications of that attitude on the trial and sentence?

THIS MORTAL BOY is sensitively written, beautifully constructed, considered and well balanced. It carefully delivers a number of points for the reader to contemplate - lack of compassion, lack of understanding of peer pressure, overt political interference in the judicial system, and the finality of capital punishment. It's not, however, a novel that shouts moral conclusions from the rafters. Rather it lays out the story of two young men who make stupid decisions, who lack self-control and wisdom and end up in an awful place. Whether or not they both deserved to die for this is left to the reader to consider, as is the role of the state and the judiciary when it comes to careful and cautious consideration of the facts, and the right to compassion and clear moral leadership. Needless to say, THIS MORTAL BOY, is a mighty undertaking and a very worthy Ngaio Marsh Award Winner.

https://www.austcrimefiction.org/review/mortal-boy-dame-fiona-kidman show less

I found The Captive Wife by Fiona Kidman to be a very interesting read. While the story zeros in on one incident in history, the kidnapping and eventual rescue of the wife and children of a ship’s captain by Maoris on the coast of New Zealand in 1834, the scope of the story covers early Australian society and it’s rigid rules. Based on real events, the story unfolds through the perspective of multiple characters, and at first, Betty Guard is welcomed back to Sydney as a heroine, but all show more too soon she is ostracised as the implications of her captivity are spread by vicious rumours.

This book clearly outlines how trapped women were in those days, with literally no options open to them, they were expected to do their duty, follow the rules of society and submit to whichever male relative had control over them. Strongly written and well researched, this book paints a vivid picture of early colonial life in Australia and New Zealand. The author fills her story with well drawn characters that are fully developed and each one tells their story in a distinctive voice. From Jacky Guard’s abrupt journal entries to the vivid and intense conversations between Betty Guard and her ex-teacher, Adie.

The Captive Wife was an irresistible blend of a heartbreak and resilience. The story is of a woman trapped by circumstances, yet in her own way she is able to resolve her situation and eventually find peace for herself and her family. Full of well researched historical details, this was a engrossing read. show less

I loved this book. I felt an immediate connection to the period as the event took place the year I was born and in the city of my birth. My father also worked in the central city so he must have been aware of these events. Sadly he passed away in 1975 so I am unable to question him about it.
I found this book very relevant to events that have happened in Christchurch recently. In 1950's New Zealand the Irish were looked on as inferior citizens. I was stunned as I too have Irish ancestry.
The show more author depicts post war New Zealand society accurately, through well drawn characters and credible dialogue.
Despite knowing the outcome of the story, I was moved to tears by the unjust sentence handed down. This sentence gave me pause for thought: 'The law, as it stands at this moment, seems cruel and unjust, a carapace for power and revenge, designed by men who have been to war and can't let the past go, must hunt down enemies for the rest of their lives.' This was the thinking of Albert Black's defence lawyer.
I think this author has brought to the attention of readers the awfulness of capital punishment and the impact of it on family, friends and community. This is a well researched piece of writing. show less

Based on a true story of one of the last executions in New Zealand, Fiona Kidman’s historical crime novel about a young man found guilty of murder is a powerful question mark. When is the death penalty justified? How does politics affect ‘blind justice’? Fundamentally, what is justice?
Although the novel takes place in New Zealand in late 1955, its thought-provoking issues are still germane to the United States and to the more than 50 countries where the death penalty exists today, show more countries where more than 60 percent of the world’s population lives.
What’s remarkable about this book is how Kidman brings forth the issues involved, like specimens under a strong light, showing them in all their complexity, with all their shadows and brilliance, without ever preaching or becoming polemical. You are reading a compelling story, not an essay.
Albert Black is a young man from tension-filled, divided Belfast, who leaves his parents and younger brother to immigrate to New Zealand for a fresh start and a better life. In a bar fight, he stabs Johnny McBride, the bully who’s been tormenting him. From his Auckland jail cell he reminisces about his upbringing on the other side of the world and his life during the two years since he left Northern Ireland. The vivid descriptions of these various communities and his circumstances, as well as his actions, make him a fully rounded person. While Kidman doesn’t romanticize him, he inspires empathy.
He feels he’s an outsider in New Zealand. That feeling turns into grim reality when he’s on trial, and jury members hold his Irishness against him. He’s ‘not one of ours,’ the judge says. Kidman also reveals the mindset of the jurors (‘set’ being the operative word) and the high-level discussions amongst the legal establishment regarding capital punishment.
She skillfully uses the frame of the trial to enable comparison of retold events to witness testimony, and while there’s no doubt that Black attacked McBride, the circumstances make both the situation and the cause of death more ambiguous than they first appear or than the court ever hears.
Albert Black was hanged 5 December 1955, and, as Kidman says in an Afterword, “A tide of disgust against the penalty overtook public perception after the hanging of Albert Black.” When a new government took over in New Zealand in 1957, all death sentences were commuted to life imprisonment, and in 1961, the death penalty was abolished. show less