devouring Barracuda

The book: Barracuda by Christos Tsiolkas

Start time: Thursday 14th May approximately 11 p.m.

Finish time: Sunday 24th May approximately 8:45 a.m.

Number of pages: 513

This is fast for me. I’d wanted to read this for a while but it looked like a chunky novel and not one I could easily carry around with me. I’ve been a Tsiolkas fan ever since I read Loaded many years ago, and I’ve written before that I think he’s one of the most important contemporary Australian writers around.

I’ve been reading a lot of poetry recently – pamphlets, collections, magazines – and had a  real hankering to read fiction, to be immersed in a novel. On that Thursday 14th May, we had a good friend staying over, a fellow writer and expat, who’d read Barracuda in a couple of days the Christmas before last. Her enthusiasm prompted me to dive in, and I read in long chunks, mostly in bed, at the start and end of the day. The writing is vivid and gripping, and what I love about Tsiolkas is that he tackles difficult issues – or his characters do – head on. They have conversations and arguments. They live in the real world, and struggle with what it is to be human, and as the blurb says ‘what it is to be a good person – and what it takes to become one.’

The novel is about dreams for success and what happens when failure strikes. The central character, Daniel Kelly, is on course to become an Olympic swimmer when that dream implodes. The book deals with class – and despite what many people seem to think, Australia is not a classless society; the violence that simmers and occasionally erupts in social interactions, and which is reflected in a coarseness of language; the ambivalent role of sport in Australian society; and the complexities of family and home. There are wonderful passages describing the experience of swimming, and Tsiolkas draws parallels between reading and swimming as Kelly later finds stillness and meaning through books: ‘words were the water and reading was swimming.

Tsiolkas is a thoroughly engaged – and engaging – writer. Barracuda left me feeling, not homesick exactly, but wishing that I could write about London the way he writes about Melbourne. Is anyone doing that?

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