Black Juice
by Margo Lanagan
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Provides glimpses of the dark side of civilization and the beauty of the human spirit through ten short stories that explore significant moments in people's lives, events leading to them, and their consequences.Tags
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Singing My Sister Down: aside from the horror of a loving family singing to their disgraced member during her slow public execution, I found most interesting that we never learn what drove the sister to kill as well as the victim's parents' reaction to one child's reaction to his only sister's death. I inferred from the story that this society doesn't care about why someone kills or if the person was even sane -- one punishment fits all.
Four stars.
My Lord's Man: according to the two pages of acknowledgments at the book's end, Ms. Lanagan was inspired by a song called 'Seven Yellow Gypsies'. I looked it up and it is a variant title for a ballad I know better as 'The Raggle Taggle Gypsies'. The viewpoint given is that of the lord's show more extremely loyal manservant, who has no use at all for his master's wife. I was not expecting the ending. three stars.
Red Nose Day: had to look up 'wowserism' and Jeux des Buffons (I remember very little of my schoolgirl French), but this is a chilling little tale about a couple of young serial killers. They're shooting clowns from what was once a convent before the nuns were murdered. Each boy has his own reason for murdering clowns. I find one petty and the other more understandable. three stars.
Sweet Pippit: a small herd of elephants search for the man who cared for them with love before one of the herd went mad and other men took him away. It's told from one of the elephants' viewpoint. four stars
House of the Many: this story seems to be about a very patriarchal cult. My lip started curling as Bard Jo started to describe Anneh, Robbreh, and Viljastramaratan, their goddess and gods. The goddess is the one who does all the work while the father god talks wisdom. Their child is wild. I didn't like Bard Jo's rules, but his reaction to a little boy who started singing too loudly really roused my wrath. The best scene with Bard Jo is the one where he compares himself to young Dot's mother. (Dot is a boy, by the way.) I liked the eulogy for a severely handicapped child. four stars
Wooden Bride: At first I thought this might be about becoming a nun in some futuristic society, but as I read on, it seemed to be more like graduation day from finishing school. Matty Weir, who has the reputation of never finishing anything, is determined to make it to the church and through the bridde ceremony no matter how many difficulties she brings on herself. I liked her. four stars.
Earthly Uses: My late father was an abused child who grew up to be an abuser (to his kids, not Mom). The portrayal of the physically and verbally abusive grandfather in this story is very well done. I understand the boy's need to keep his thoughts from his Gran-Pa, especially when they differed from his. The end of the story made me grin hugely. five stars
Perpetual Light: the best scenes, in my opinion, were the flashbacks to the heroine's memories of her grandmother, especially when they watched a bird courtship. Good luck with those seeds. three stars.
Yowlinin: this is a real chiller of a story that I think could do well as an episode of some horror show. The heroine is worth plenty of the boy she has a crush on. five stars
Rite of Spring: it's another poor narrator who is called 'boy,' this time by his mother, who also tells him he's 'thick'. This society values the 'Deep Ones' who perform the rituals that ensure a proper change of season. The narrator's scrawny brother, Florius, is a Deep One. People have been making much of Florius for years. The only one who makes much of the narrator is his dog. It's time to go up on the mountain and perform the rite that will turn winter into spring, but Florius is very sick. So is Mum. Now it's up to the narrator to brave the blizzard on the mountain. He doesn't want to go, but his mother insists. He has to say all the words properly and heaven forbid he lose the fancy robe to the howling wind. Can he do it? Can he even survive? four stars
These are good stories, but don't read it if you're feeling down or blue -- and especially avoid it if you're depressed.
Amy Ryan is the artist for the cover with what look like part of two reddish-brown leaves or a brown bat's wings, blackish-greenish liquid in the middle, and squiggly white outlines in greenish-black liquid at the bottom. The title and author's name are enclosed in a box. show less
Four stars.
My Lord's Man: according to the two pages of acknowledgments at the book's end, Ms. Lanagan was inspired by a song called 'Seven Yellow Gypsies'. I looked it up and it is a variant title for a ballad I know better as 'The Raggle Taggle Gypsies'. The viewpoint given is that of the lord's show more extremely loyal manservant, who has no use at all for his master's wife. I was not expecting the ending. three stars.
Red Nose Day: had to look up 'wowserism' and Jeux des Buffons (I remember very little of my schoolgirl French), but this is a chilling little tale about a couple of young serial killers. They're shooting clowns from what was once a convent before the nuns were murdered. Each boy has his own reason for murdering clowns. I find one petty and the other more understandable. three stars.
Sweet Pippit: a small herd of elephants search for the man who cared for them with love before one of the herd went mad and other men took him away. It's told from one of the elephants' viewpoint. four stars
House of the Many: this story seems to be about a very patriarchal cult. My lip started curling as Bard Jo started to describe Anneh, Robbreh, and Viljastramaratan, their goddess and gods. The goddess is the one who does all the work while the father god talks wisdom. Their child is wild. I didn't like Bard Jo's rules, but his reaction to a little boy who started singing too loudly really roused my wrath. The best scene with Bard Jo is the one where he compares himself to young Dot's mother. (Dot is a boy, by the way.) I liked the eulogy for a severely handicapped child. four stars
Wooden Bride: At first I thought this might be about becoming a nun in some futuristic society, but as I read on, it seemed to be more like graduation day from finishing school. Matty Weir, who has the reputation of never finishing anything, is determined to make it to the church and through the bridde ceremony no matter how many difficulties she brings on herself. I liked her. four stars.
Earthly Uses: My late father was an abused child who grew up to be an abuser (to his kids, not Mom). The portrayal of the physically and verbally abusive grandfather in this story is very well done. I understand the boy's need to keep his thoughts from his Gran-Pa, especially when they differed from his. The end of the story made me grin hugely. five stars
Perpetual Light: the best scenes, in my opinion, were the flashbacks to the heroine's memories of her grandmother, especially when they watched a bird courtship. Good luck with those seeds. three stars.
Yowlinin: this is a real chiller of a story that I think could do well as an episode of some horror show. The heroine is worth plenty of the boy she has a crush on. five stars
Rite of Spring: it's another poor narrator who is called 'boy,' this time by his mother, who also tells him he's 'thick'. This society values the 'Deep Ones' who perform the rituals that ensure a proper change of season. The narrator's scrawny brother, Florius, is a Deep One. People have been making much of Florius for years. The only one who makes much of the narrator is his dog. It's time to go up on the mountain and perform the rite that will turn winter into spring, but Florius is very sick. So is Mum. Now it's up to the narrator to brave the blizzard on the mountain. He doesn't want to go, but his mother insists. He has to say all the words properly and heaven forbid he lose the fancy robe to the howling wind. Can he do it? Can he even survive? four stars
These are good stories, but don't read it if you're feeling down or blue -- and especially avoid it if you're depressed.
Amy Ryan is the artist for the cover with what look like part of two reddish-brown leaves or a brown bat's wings, blackish-greenish liquid in the middle, and squiggly white outlines in greenish-black liquid at the bottom. The title and author's name are enclosed in a box. show less
This book is worth buying just for the story "Singing My Sister Down."
"Singing My Sister Down" is a jewel of a thing, exactly what a short story should be. It's a block of time taken from a group of lives, and in describing the situation the author references past and present to create clearly defined characters. Somewhat open-ended but still satisfying.
Unfortunately, I thought the other stories made much less of an impact. They are only mildly interesting, though the writing is still good.
"Singing My Sister Down" is a jewel of a thing, exactly what a short story should be. It's a block of time taken from a group of lives, and in describing the situation the author references past and present to create clearly defined characters. Somewhat open-ended but still satisfying.
Unfortunately, I thought the other stories made much less of an impact. They are only mildly interesting, though the writing is still good.
This is an amazing collection of short stories that deserves an audience far beyond readers of YA or SF literature. Lanagan creates tiny unique worlds in each story, using precise details to bring these worlds into focus for the reader. Each story is a small mystery, allowing the reader to discover people and places that feel at once completely familiar and totally strange. Lanagan creates this paradox through accessible characters, and by revealing the complex societies she has imagined little by little, so that even the most bizzare events feel inevitable.
Having been given a number of "warnings" about the intensity of Lanagan's most recent book, Tender Morsels, I decided to get a better sense of her writing through one of her short story collections first.
I wish someone had warned me about this collection as well.
Lanagan is an intense writer of dark, emotional, human fantasy worlds. There are echoes of older cultures and languages buried deep in these worlds, a sense not so much as coming from another planet but as if reading reports from undiscovered country. It is the type of fiction that reads like literary reportage from a past frontier transported through time. Like something forbidden, these stories are a black juice indeed.
The collection opens with "Singing Down My Sister," a show more strange description of a ritual that involves sending a woman out into the center of a lake of tar. Knowing Lanagan hails from Australia, and having grown up with the tar pits of LA, it wasn't too illogical a step for me to imagine a sort of hybrid Aboriginal culture that appeared to be redressing some sort of wrong through an old, odd cleansing process involving tar. But no, this is clearly something else as the event at hand is actually an execution, a slow death in front of an audience with a wake built in. Equally fascinating and disconcerting, the effect is how I would imagine it to be watching surgery being performed on myself while fully conscious.
Short story collections by their nature must start off strong and bold. They must open with a story full of promise for the rest of the collection yet not be so strong as to let the reader down along the way. Reading "Singing Down My Sister" it almost feels intimidating to continue with the rest of the book. If the rest of the book is anywhere near this intense it might be impossible to finish.
Fortunately, the book wasn't impossible to finish. Unfortunately the rest of the book was equally intense.
Each of the stories contained so completely build their worlds – unique and richly textured worlds at that – this it is possible for each story to sustain its own book. "Red Nose Day" delves into a dark world full of professional clowns and the hitmen who kill them, with more than a hint of allegory aimed at the Catholic church. "The House of Many" posits a clash of parallel worlds that fluidly includes a Middle Ages cult surrounded by a more contemporary society rich with cars and candy. Demonic angels that help children break free of oppressive adults. Queens who prefer the company of dancing gypsies to their own kingdoms. Lanagan plucks the familiar image and icon and from our consciousness and folds them deftly into something new, a magical literary origami.
I think the warning I would have wanted was more in the form of advice. I think these stories should be savored slowly, with a lot of space between them. Perhaps as ways of cleansing the palate between other books. One after another, the power in these stories makes reentry into the world difficult. Better to dip into these waters with some reserve.
Whether this has helped me to better enter the world of Tender Morsels has yet to be determined. As it stands, I feel richer for the diversion. show less
I wish someone had warned me about this collection as well.
Lanagan is an intense writer of dark, emotional, human fantasy worlds. There are echoes of older cultures and languages buried deep in these worlds, a sense not so much as coming from another planet but as if reading reports from undiscovered country. It is the type of fiction that reads like literary reportage from a past frontier transported through time. Like something forbidden, these stories are a black juice indeed.
The collection opens with "Singing Down My Sister," a show more strange description of a ritual that involves sending a woman out into the center of a lake of tar. Knowing Lanagan hails from Australia, and having grown up with the tar pits of LA, it wasn't too illogical a step for me to imagine a sort of hybrid Aboriginal culture that appeared to be redressing some sort of wrong through an old, odd cleansing process involving tar. But no, this is clearly something else as the event at hand is actually an execution, a slow death in front of an audience with a wake built in. Equally fascinating and disconcerting, the effect is how I would imagine it to be watching surgery being performed on myself while fully conscious.
Short story collections by their nature must start off strong and bold. They must open with a story full of promise for the rest of the collection yet not be so strong as to let the reader down along the way. Reading "Singing Down My Sister" it almost feels intimidating to continue with the rest of the book. If the rest of the book is anywhere near this intense it might be impossible to finish.
Fortunately, the book wasn't impossible to finish. Unfortunately the rest of the book was equally intense.
Each of the stories contained so completely build their worlds – unique and richly textured worlds at that – this it is possible for each story to sustain its own book. "Red Nose Day" delves into a dark world full of professional clowns and the hitmen who kill them, with more than a hint of allegory aimed at the Catholic church. "The House of Many" posits a clash of parallel worlds that fluidly includes a Middle Ages cult surrounded by a more contemporary society rich with cars and candy. Demonic angels that help children break free of oppressive adults. Queens who prefer the company of dancing gypsies to their own kingdoms. Lanagan plucks the familiar image and icon and from our consciousness and folds them deftly into something new, a magical literary origami.
I think the warning I would have wanted was more in the form of advice. I think these stories should be savored slowly, with a lot of space between them. Perhaps as ways of cleansing the palate between other books. One after another, the power in these stories makes reentry into the world difficult. Better to dip into these waters with some reserve.
Whether this has helped me to better enter the world of Tender Morsels has yet to be determined. As it stands, I feel richer for the diversion. show less
Black Juice and Margo Lanagan may be new to American readers, but her work is well known in Australia where she has delighted serious readers for years. This book was originally published in Australia in 2004 and is eligible for its 2006 Printz Honor because its first American edition was published in 2005. Readers who appreciate Black Juice will be interested to know that White Time, an earlier collection of her stories published in Australia in 2000 will be released this summer (also by eos, Harper Collins).
Warning! Readers who expect to find the traditional short story introductions or tidy endings will be seriously disappointed. Readers looking for light bed time reading will fall asleep without ever appreciating the craft and care show more of these ten astonishing, dark, and difficult stories. Have an English teacher who needs examples of high quality fiction for teens? Give that teacher Black Juice! Know a critic who mistakenly believes that teen literature is dumbed down fiction for teens too stupid to read real adult books? Give that critic Black Juice!
In this collection of short stories, Lanagan drops us unceremoniously into the middle of a world whose rules readers may discover as they begin each darkly twisted, yet exquisite tale. Character and setting are vastly more important than any sense of problem and resolution. We are given a character(s) in a vaguely familiar setting that evokes a mood. Despite very clear differences in the ten stories, if readers were randomly given one hundred different anonymous stories including these ten, they would have no difficulty recognizing which ones belong in Black Juice. Lanagan writes well enough that these sculpted people and places often make us not care about the fact that the problems are often not linear or even very clearly defined and may even lack any clear sense of resolution. It is on closer scrutiny that readers begin to piece together problems and tease out solutions. The stories require patience and richly reward diligent readers.
The collection begins with “Singing My Sister Down.” What seems like some sort of picnic celebration in which the family is laying down mats and eating and singing, is really an execution of a daughter who has killed her husband.
“Sweet Pipit” is told in first person elephant but readers at no time accuse Lanagan of engaging in anthropomorphism. In first person elephant we are told how difficult it is for elephants to tolerate the fast, high, human squeakings. Astonishing! In “Red Nose Day” we are surprised to find that we feel connected to a mass murderer. In all the stories we enter in the middle of a place that seems vaguely familiar, but grows stranger and stranger with each astounding word. We journey to dark and surprising places that can leave us lost and far from home, yet richer for the journey.
Black Juice is not a collection of short stories that will NOT appeal to every reader, but it is a collection that will reward readers and teachers willing to work patiently without a map. This collection will provoke great discussions on themes like cultural norms, death rituals, love, family expectations, justice, abuse, and more! This collection very much deserves its Printz Honor and is recommended for sophisticated readers of all ages. show less
Warning! Readers who expect to find the traditional short story introductions or tidy endings will be seriously disappointed. Readers looking for light bed time reading will fall asleep without ever appreciating the craft and care show more of these ten astonishing, dark, and difficult stories. Have an English teacher who needs examples of high quality fiction for teens? Give that teacher Black Juice! Know a critic who mistakenly believes that teen literature is dumbed down fiction for teens too stupid to read real adult books? Give that critic Black Juice!
In this collection of short stories, Lanagan drops us unceremoniously into the middle of a world whose rules readers may discover as they begin each darkly twisted, yet exquisite tale. Character and setting are vastly more important than any sense of problem and resolution. We are given a character(s) in a vaguely familiar setting that evokes a mood. Despite very clear differences in the ten stories, if readers were randomly given one hundred different anonymous stories including these ten, they would have no difficulty recognizing which ones belong in Black Juice. Lanagan writes well enough that these sculpted people and places often make us not care about the fact that the problems are often not linear or even very clearly defined and may even lack any clear sense of resolution. It is on closer scrutiny that readers begin to piece together problems and tease out solutions. The stories require patience and richly reward diligent readers.
The collection begins with “Singing My Sister Down.” What seems like some sort of picnic celebration in which the family is laying down mats and eating and singing, is really an execution of a daughter who has killed her husband.
“Sweet Pipit” is told in first person elephant but readers at no time accuse Lanagan of engaging in anthropomorphism. In first person elephant we are told how difficult it is for elephants to tolerate the fast, high, human squeakings. Astonishing! In “Red Nose Day” we are surprised to find that we feel connected to a mass murderer. In all the stories we enter in the middle of a place that seems vaguely familiar, but grows stranger and stranger with each astounding word. We journey to dark and surprising places that can leave us lost and far from home, yet richer for the journey.
Black Juice is not a collection of short stories that will NOT appeal to every reader, but it is a collection that will reward readers and teachers willing to work patiently without a map. This collection will provoke great discussions on themes like cultural norms, death rituals, love, family expectations, justice, abuse, and more! This collection very much deserves its Printz Honor and is recommended for sophisticated readers of all ages. show less
quirky is a good word for Lanagan's short stories. frustratingly tantalizing would represent another way of describing them.
written like incomplete Twilight Zone episodes, the truncated anecdotes in Black Juice introduce many intriguing situations and worlds that we'll probably never have fleshed out.
they introduce punishment by slowly sinking into a tar pit, a frenetic clown assassination game played with live ammo and sponsors, feral angels that smell of earthworms and fish slime, etc., etc. much of it feels post-apocalyptic or dystopian; some pure fantasy but nothing is expected.
you want to know more; you want to see the point the author is making;see what, if any, moral or ethical head-scratcher she is trying to spell out, but just show more when the stories get really good, more often than not, they just end. show less
written like incomplete Twilight Zone episodes, the truncated anecdotes in Black Juice introduce many intriguing situations and worlds that we'll probably never have fleshed out.
they introduce punishment by slowly sinking into a tar pit, a frenetic clown assassination game played with live ammo and sponsors, feral angels that smell of earthworms and fish slime, etc., etc. much of it feels post-apocalyptic or dystopian; some pure fantasy but nothing is expected.
you want to know more; you want to see the point the author is making;see what, if any, moral or ethical head-scratcher she is trying to spell out, but just show more when the stories get really good, more often than not, they just end. show less
I have some serious mixed feelings about this. Been wobbling back and forth in what I think. But in the end, I guess I like it.
Here’s the thing. Most of these short stories aren’t really stories. They are more descriptions of glimpses of people and their worlds. Most of them lets us meet a young main character in a very concentrated event that sort of moves them in a new direction. We get a world – often a post-apocalyptic one, but sometimes fairy-tale, fantasy or a plain strange – drawn up with a few penstrokes, we get a vague idea of the character and what he or she is about. And that’s about it. This is a book of samples, of hands kept extremely close.
Which is half the time exciting, leaving me with questions, thoughts and show more a sense of wonder. When it works, it really works. Lanagan creates brave and drastic snapshots, oozing strangeness and ambience. I’m reminded of both Kelly Link’s books and Michael Ende’s Der Spiegel im Spiegel, but Lanagan writes clearer, crisper, less dreamlike, and her worlds are very original. But then there’s the other half, when her situations just feel vague, slippery and under-established. When the hidden story just isn’t exciting enough for me to try and find my way in.
The first story, Singing my sister down, is the one everyone seems to rave about. And it’s undoubtedly very strong. My favourite stories, however, are the one about the boy going out to find the horrifying angel and the one about the subterranean monsters coming up to feed. I could easily have done without the elephants, the barefoot-dancing queen and the Dick-ripoff in the desert. I kind of needed to know more about, for instance, the clown shooters and the bride.
There are basically just images here, but enough of them are memorable enough to be well worth the price of admission. A few I will remember forever. show less
Here’s the thing. Most of these short stories aren’t really stories. They are more descriptions of glimpses of people and their worlds. Most of them lets us meet a young main character in a very concentrated event that sort of moves them in a new direction. We get a world – often a post-apocalyptic one, but sometimes fairy-tale, fantasy or a plain strange – drawn up with a few penstrokes, we get a vague idea of the character and what he or she is about. And that’s about it. This is a book of samples, of hands kept extremely close.
Which is half the time exciting, leaving me with questions, thoughts and show more a sense of wonder. When it works, it really works. Lanagan creates brave and drastic snapshots, oozing strangeness and ambience. I’m reminded of both Kelly Link’s books and Michael Ende’s Der Spiegel im Spiegel, but Lanagan writes clearer, crisper, less dreamlike, and her worlds are very original. But then there’s the other half, when her situations just feel vague, slippery and under-established. When the hidden story just isn’t exciting enough for me to try and find my way in.
The first story, Singing my sister down, is the one everyone seems to rave about. And it’s undoubtedly very strong. My favourite stories, however, are the one about the boy going out to find the horrifying angel and the one about the subterranean monsters coming up to feed. I could easily have done without the elephants, the barefoot-dancing queen and the Dick-ripoff in the desert. I kind of needed to know more about, for instance, the clown shooters and the bride.
There are basically just images here, but enough of them are memorable enough to be well worth the price of admission. A few I will remember forever. show less
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Margo Lanagan was born in Waratah, New South Wales, Australia in 1960. Her works include Black Juice, which won two World Fantasy Awards and a Printz Honor Award in 2006; White Time; Tender Morsels, which won a Printz Honor Award in 2009 and a World Fantasy Award for best novel in 2009; and Sea-Hearts, which won the World Fantasy Award for Best show more Novella in 2010. She is also the co-author of the Zeroes series written with Scott Westerfeld and Deborah Biancotti. (Bowker Author Biography) show less
Awards and Honors
Awards
Distinctions
Work Relationships
Contains
Common Knowledge
- Original publication date
- 2004
- People/Characters
- Ikky (narrator's sister, Singing My Sister Down); Chief Barnarndra (Singing My Sister Down); Mumma (narrator's mother, Singing My Sister Down); Dash (narrator's brother, Singing My Sister Down); Mai (narrator's aunt, Singing My Sister Down); Felly (narrator's brother, Singing My Sister Down) (show all 57); narrator (a boy | Singing My Sister Down); Berry (narrator, a trusted servant, My Lord's Man); Mullord (the narrator's lord, My Lord's Man); Cook (My Lord's Man); Gerdie (Berry's wife, My Lord's Man); Minnow (serving woman the Mistress may have killed, My Lord's Man); Mullady (wife to Mullord, My Lord's Man); Jelly (rich young man, Red Nose Day); narrator (reared in homes, Red Nose Day); Jelly's mother (Red Nose Day); Booroondoonhooroboom ('Booroondoon,' queen & mom of the elephant herd, Sweet Pippit); Hloorobnool (a young elephant, only in her fifties, Sweet Pippit); Gooroloomboon ('Gooroloom,' female elephant, Sweet Pippit); Hmoorolubnu ('Hloorobn,' female elephant, niece/granddaughter, Sweet Pippit); headwoman of some death birds (vulture?, Sweet Pippit); narrator (another of the elephants, Sweet Pippit); Pippit (the human who took gentle care of the elephants, Sweet Pippit); a macao-bird (gives useful information, Sweet Pippit); the blade man (executioner, Sweet Pippit); Dot Simpsim (son of the late Morri Simpsim, House of the Many); Bard Jo (leader of what might be a cult, House of the Many); Bonneh (Dot and Ardent's mother -- not one of Bard Jo's wives, House of the Many); Ardent (Dot's severely disabled sister, House of the Many); Winsome (she's Dot's friend, House of the Many); Pedder (one of Bard Jo's older sons, House of the Many); Lute (he's Winsome's cousin, House of the Many); Kooric (House of the Many); Samed (Kooric's son, House of the Many); Mattild 'Matty' Weir (determined to finish something in her life, Wooden Bride); Gabby's dad (Wooden Bride); Yakkert's mother (Wooden Bride); Mr. Pellisson (the brides' photographer, Wooden Bride); the bishop (there to bless the brides, Wooden Bride); narrator (his grandfather just calls him 'boy', Earthly Uses); Grand-Pa ('Pa,' an abusive coward, Earthly Uses); Gran-Nan ('Nan,' Earthly Uses); Daphne (narrator and student, Perpetual Light); Mum (Daphne's mother, Perpetual Light); Statner's friend (a plant expert, Perpetual Light); Nerida the Naturopath (Perpetual Light); Grandma (dead now, but we meet her through flashbacks, Perpetual Light); Pruitt (Daphne's maternal aunt, Perpetual Light); Irini (Grandma's neighbor and friend, Perpetual Light); narrator (a girl and a homeless survivor, Yowlinin); Goodman Harrow (a landowner, Yowlinin); Harrowson (the girl likes this boy, Yowlinin); a yowlinin (Yowlinin); narrator (his mother just calls him 'boy', Rite of Spring); Mum (the narrator's mother, favors his brother, Rite of Spring); Florius (the holy brother, the Deep One, Rite of Spring); Parson Pinknose (he passed the fancy robe on to Mum, Rite of Spring)
- Important places
- Australia
- First words
- WE ALL WENT DOWN to the tar pit, with mats to spread our weight. (Singing My Sister Down)
MULLORD RIDES FAST AWAY, to the forest. (My Lord's Man)
HAVE YOU GOTTA DO that? (Red Nose Day)
WE SET OUT IN the depth of night, having held ourselves still all evening. (Sweet Pippit)
DOT WAS VERY YOUNG. (House of the Many)
I'M IN DANGER. (Wooden Bride) (show all 10)
GET DRESSED, BOY, SAYS Gran-Pa, shaking me awake. (Earthly Uses)
SOMEWHERE BETWEEN HERE AND Wagga, the winds were stirring up some metal. (Perpetual Light)
I WOULDN'T SAY HARROW'S son was handsome -- not handsome that people would notice. (Yowlinin)
THIS WIND DOESN'T SHRIEK or moan -- nothing so personal. (Rite of Spring) - Last words
- (Click to show. Warning: May contain spoilers.)I pushed my face into Mumma's warm neck; I sealed my eyes shut against her skin; I let her strong warm arms carry me away in the dark. (Singing My Sister Down)
(Click to show. Warning: May contain spoilers.)Then she turns her head, and I turn mine, and we both are still, listening to the master and horses come down the hill. (My Lord's Man)
(Click to show. Warning: May contain spoilers.)I walked through the markets, sober and dark as a shoeblack or an electricity man, as a man carrying his work case going about his business. (Red Nose Day)
(Click to show. Warning: May contain spoilers.)Singing, always singing, he moves us onward, into each brightening day. (Sweet Pippit)
(Click to show. Warning: May contain spoilers.)We can go now, he said. (House of the Many)
(Click to show. Warning: May contain spoilers.)The smoke jumps free like a loosed kite. (Wooden Bride)
(Click to show. Warning: May contain spoilers.)A strong lad like me must be some earthly use to someone, down there, if he walks far enough. (Earthly Uses)
(Click to show. Warning: May contain spoilers.)Would they all twelve prove viable, their stalks strengthening, their greenness emerging, thickening, bunching, seemingly out of nothing and for no reason, vibrating slightly in their rows? (Perpetual Light)
(Click to show. Warning: May contain spoilers.)And I'm the only one who can smell, through the dog blood and the cess, through the sap, slime, and splintered timber rot, the thin sharp salt, on the breeze, of the sea. (Yowlinin)
(Click to show. Warning: May contain spoilers.)And beyond her are all the dampness and the dazzle of the first day of spring. (Rite of Spring) - Blurbers
- Marsden, John; Bear, Greg; Nix, Garth; Grimwood. Jon Courtenay
Classifications
- Genres
- Fiction and Literature, Teen, Fantasy, Young Adult
- DDC/MDS
- 823.914 — Literature & rhetoric English & Old English literatures English fiction 1900- 1901-1999 1945-1999
- LCC
- PZ7 .L216 .B — Language and Literature Fiction and juvenile belles lettres Fiction and juvenile belles lettres Juvenile belles lettres
- BISAC
Statistics
- Members
- 615
- Popularity
- 47,256
- Reviews
- 37
- Rating
- (3.86)
- Languages
- English, Italian
- Media
- Paper, Ebook
- ISBNs
- 19
- ASINs
- 3
