After the Fire, a Still Small Voice

Frank has returned to his childhood playground, a beach cottage near Queensland, to sort out his life after a devastating breakup, a relationship that inevitably ended when he became physically violent with his girlfriend. He loathes what he did, and runs to hide in a place that he thinks will comfort him. Once there, memories begin to eat at him, becoming so real that he turns his head and alerts to their arrival. He can't relate to his new violent streak, and tries to analyze what has happened since his mother's death that turned him. Violence would have been more appropriate, more expected, from his father or even his grandfather, both veterans of brutal warfare in Asia. As the novel continues, the narration explores the experiences of both of those men in war and at home. It's oversimplified to say that war changed them, and Wyld doesn't take us down that well-worn path. Rather, what makes this story complex is how it changed everyone else. Wives and girlfriends alternate between comforters and enemies, their every action subject to the random and unpredictable moods of their men. " Some fellas, they make the women lonely. Maybe it doesn't apply to you, mate, but maybe that's why you're here" Frank sorts through his memories while being befriended by a small girl and her pet carrot. A missing teenager and a grieving couple complicate his life while his coworkers rail against the Aboriginal natives that reside in the community. All the while his memories and fears creep up on him though he tries to ignore them. At one point, he makes a conscious decision to rid himself of tangible items to remove the memories that go with them: "Makes things easier having less stuff. See, if I keep them I've got to find a place to put them in - probably in a box or something so they don't get broken...And when you start to get older that sort of thing gets to be more of a problem." This novel focuses on the intimate details of these men and their lives in a setting of urbanization and change. Wyld describes subtle gestures and inner thoughts flawlessly, and invents these entirely new flawed characters like none I've read before. Her writing style reminds me of Tim Winton (my favorite author), with its focus on the Australian bush and seaside with their colors and plants and weather. An unexpected sweetness is found mixed in with the brutality of war. A really enjoyable story that makes me eager for her next book.

This is my favorite book from the past year, and perhaps the past 5 years. Wyld's quiet, yet poignant book focuses on three generations of Australian men and their relationships with war. The grandfather becomes defined by his role as a soldier fighting in Korea. The son's life is turned upside down by his experience in Vietnam, and the grandson struggles to make an identity for himself despite having fought in no war. "After the Fire" deals with the psychological horrors of war and the veterans' inability to integrate back into society. The book is incredibly visual, capturing the beauty and baroness of Australia's landscape, which serves as a backdrop to this haunting, tender story. I recommend this novel highly.

After the Fire, A still Small Voice, Is a beautifully written novel that starts with Frank Collard leaving his girlfriend and moving to to an old beach shack that has been in the family for three generations.The falling out was because Lucy had been to visit Franks father Leon. The book explores the lives of three men, Roman, Leon and Frank. Two stories are told at the same time, Franks life and Leon's life.The book explores how one generation affects the next. The story is set in Australia and really brings Australia alive. The men have all been damaged by war and circumstances of each ones experiences. It is not an easy read but a novel that you will long remember and perhaps read again.

Evie Wyld's novel involves the stories of two Australian men, Frank and Leon. They are both taciturn and morbidly shy but both are continually introspective and have good personal insight. The two characters know they have a drive toward aggression fueled by usually repressed rage. They also have a drive toward love fueled by a strong sexual drive and a genuine caring for women. The rage breaks through in Frank and Leon overpowering their love and caring. The rage can be channeled with combat in Leon, who controls wartime release with post war alcohol and isolation. Frank uses alcohol and isolation too, but is a bit rougher around the edges than Leon. Wyld alternates the narrative from one character to the other showing parallels and important differences. The story reveals the relationship between the two slowly and with great psychological suspense. The tone, style, and content remind me of Patrick Hamilton's very good novel, Hangover Square (see my review). I thoroughly enjoyed After the Fire, a still Small Voice. The reader can expect a good description of rural Australian flora and fauna and a bit of big city expansion. The two narrator voices are quite dissimilar in the beginning, but watch for increasing parallels as the plot progresses. This is a great novel with a wide historical scope, from Korea to Vietnam and wild rural consistency to controlled urban change.

There are times you finish reading a book and are just so stunned by its incredible beauty you have trouble putting your thoughts into words. That's exactly how I felt about 'After the Fire, a Still Small Voice.' Wyld tells parallel stories of two generations in a family prone to devastating depression, consoled by too much love of the bottle. Both main male characters serve in wars, and both return with severe post-traumatic stress disorder. One strikes out at the woman he loves; the other becomes a shell of the man he was. As for the female characters, they remain more in the background, and are more acted upon than acting themselves. Their dealings and reactions are somewhat muted, but the tale is told through the minds of the two male characters, so it's not as if the women are intentionally slighted. In fact, it's the two men and their treatment of the women they love that's so often center-stage. Leon, the son and second generation, and his story dominate the book. His experiences in the war are given first-hand, and his complete nervous breakdown the centerpiece of the story. The reader comes to sympathize with him, even with all his faults, and he truly pulls at the heart. To say this is among the best works of contemporary literary fiction I've read would not be a stretch. I can hardly think of ways to enthuse about it that don't sound cliched. With some books that's the way it is. They touch you to the core, and the writer's prose is heartbreakingly beautiful. There aren't words to describe writing so moving, save the word "perfection," but I'm afraid that one's been thrown around so much it has little meaning. I cannot recommend this book highly enough. Its depiction of love and loss is drama of the highest achievement. If this wins no awards I'll be shocked. It's deserving of the highest accolades. It moved me to my very soul. I envy those yet to read it for the first time. You cannot come away from it unmoved.