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A review by archytas
The Merry-go-round in the Sea by Randolph Stow
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
5.0
"Everything was wrong with Rick. And yet, he was still the most beaut bloke Rob had ever known"
You can see why this was Stow's popular adult book. He perfectly captures the idyllic, sun drenched nostalgia for a settler Australian childhood. Six-year-old Rob introduces us to this paradise of paddocks, creeks and scrub, teasing mates and doting grandparents. As Rob ages to 13, we see his world through his eyes. Not only do we see the comfort and joy of this relatively luxurious life, but the more disturbing hints: the racism towards Aboriginal kids, the desire to kill not cherish the local birdlife, the ostracism of the pregnant, the foreign and the socially inconvenient. It is the latter that grows steam through the second half of the book, as his beloved larrikin Uncle Rick returns different from a stint as a POW, and simply can't fit back into this world. Rick becomes a second point of character, giving us more bitter and disillusioned eyes to see through. While he and Rob are tied through love and their shared yearning for adventure and grand stories, they are divided by Rick's inability to buy the myth. This works as a straightforward growing up story, the loss of the shine. And it works as a novel about the devastation wrought by POW camps and by the lack of vocabulary or space to share the experience. And it works ultimately as a commentary on the myth of Australia itself, and its settler class on their stolen land. The Merry go-round in the Sea was never a Merry go-round at all, but instead something ugly that covered a disaster.
This is the only book of Stowe's not available in ebook form, despite it being his most read. I wondered if the reluctance to re-issue it is in part because of the uncensored, brutally racist language (swears are blanked out, but not slurs - giving a good sense of what mattered in the 1960s). Stowe certainly doesn't directly challenge the racist dialogue through his characters, nor does he feature any significant Aboriginal characters. These are not things we would let go now, understanding the depth of hurt that overt racism can cause. But Stowe's faithful reproduction of what racism was like is not an embrace of it either. There is something important in admitting who we we were.
You can see why this was Stow's popular adult book. He perfectly captures the idyllic, sun drenched nostalgia for a settler Australian childhood. Six-year-old Rob introduces us to this paradise of paddocks, creeks and scrub, teasing mates and doting grandparents. As Rob ages to 13, we see his world through his eyes. Not only do we see the comfort and joy of this relatively luxurious life, but the more disturbing hints: the racism towards Aboriginal kids, the desire to kill not cherish the local birdlife, the ostracism of the pregnant, the foreign and the socially inconvenient. It is the latter that grows steam through the second half of the book, as his beloved larrikin Uncle Rick returns different from a stint as a POW, and simply can't fit back into this world. Rick becomes a second point of character, giving us more bitter and disillusioned eyes to see through. While he and Rob are tied through love and their shared yearning for adventure and grand stories, they are divided by Rick's inability to buy the myth. This works as a straightforward growing up story, the loss of the shine. And it works as a novel about the devastation wrought by POW camps and by the lack of vocabulary or space to share the experience. And it works ultimately as a commentary on the myth of Australia itself, and its settler class on their stolen land. The Merry go-round in the Sea was never a Merry go-round at all, but instead something ugly that covered a disaster.
This is the only book of Stowe's not available in ebook form, despite it being his most read. I wondered if the reluctance to re-issue it is in part because of the uncensored, brutally racist language (swears are blanked out, but not slurs - giving a good sense of what mattered in the 1960s). Stowe certainly doesn't directly challenge the racist dialogue through his characters, nor does he feature any significant Aboriginal characters. These are not things we would let go now, understanding the depth of hurt that overt racism can cause. But Stowe's faithful reproduction of what racism was like is not an embrace of it either. There is something important in admitting who we we were.