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THE FAMILY LAW – Benjamin Law
(Black Inc.)
The David Sedaris of Brisbane letters goes book-length
Brisbane is small, socially speaking. The circle of writers in Brisbane is even smaller. We all play poker at John Birmingham’s on Fridays and Nick Earls cheats like mad. What I’m saying is I know Benjamin Law, the author of this book. I know his boyfriend and I know the guy he mentions on page 108 who once shat on a toilet seat (Hi, Dan!). This is relevant because I’m hopelessly biased by knowing Ben, but here’s the thing – read this book and you’ll know him and his family better than I did. It’s a memoir about growing up the child of Chinese immigrants in Australia that is remarkably frank as well as being extremely readable and hilariously funny. But most of all, really, remarkably frank. You’ll learn details about the state of his mother’s vagina that you may not have wanted to, but you’ll laugh while you’re doing it. On the front of the book his family’s eyes are hidden by black bars, but between the covers it feels like nothing is hidden: his mother’s pregnancies in detail; his embarrassing attempts at being a child actor so he can be on Home & Away; his parents’ reactions to his coming out; his siblings’ neurotic fear of accidentally seeing each other naked – their trip to a communal bath while on holiday in Japan is a highlight – it’s all here. They may be scared of seeing each other’s bits, but on the page they’re laid bare.
The Laws speak to each other in a mix of English and Cantonese heavy with in-jokes that inspires Ben to compile a yearly dictionary, but it’s really just like the personal language peculiar to your household that no one outside it will ever become truly fluent in. It’s fun to try though, for the same reason it’s fascinating to read about their foibles, because it reminds us of how weird our families are in their own ways.
****
JODY MACGREGOR
AFTER AMERICA – John Birmingham
(Pan Macmillan)
The hard man of Australian letters autopsies America
John Birmingham examines America in his new series by pulling it apart and putting it back together to see how it works like a curious kid with a clock radio and no parental supervision. This is book two, a sequel to Without Warning, which saw a mysterious event called the Disappearance remove human life from most of North America, leaving the country’s expatriates (and residents of spared areas, like Seattle and Hawaii) to rebuild. First, however, they have to reclaim it from the pirates and scavengers who’ve moved into the ruins.
Like Without Warning the story is told through multiple viewpoints in alternating chapters, the plots occasionally overlapping. This gives an overview of the setting from top to bottom, from the President (played by Martin Sheen in my head) to a Mexican immigrant, from an Echelon agent to an African child soldier. It’s admirably broad, but it can be frustrating to get caught up in one storyline only to have it dropped for several chapters and picked up much later.
The political machinations that made up a chunk of the first book, with various characters pushing their own ideas of the principles the new America should be founded on, are sidelined in favour of action. A battle for New York, that ultimate symbol of America, is the focus. Birmingham is easily distracted by technical details like precisely what caliber weapons are or what kind of helicopter the President is in, a quirk that’s strongly reminiscent of Tom Clancy. But his combat-writing is top-notch – gripping, edge-of-your seat stuff. It’s like a round of Call Of Duty in prose. I’m hoping for more politics and less shooty-bang-bang in the third and final book, but it’s very enjoyable shooty-bang-bang regardless.
***½
JODY MACGREGOR
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