Tom Keely is a man on the edge.
The former high-powered, high-profile environmental activist feels like he’s hit rock-bottom following the end of his marriage and the loss of his career due to “one cataclysmic truth-telling”. But an escalating atmosphere of foreboding and the quagmire in which his self-imposed exile has landed him hints there may be further to fall.
Tim Winton’s latest novel slickly dovetails a story of personal struggle, family dramas and criminal violence with hefty themes of class disparity, economic greed and environmental degradation. It’s also a ripper read.
Unemployed and newly ensconced in a gloomy high-rise apartment overlooking the Port of Freemantle, “gateway to the booming state of Western Australia”, protagonist Keely finds himself surrounded by society’s battlers, a world away from his previous comfortable middle-class existence.
Having lost faith in the cause for which he has fought so hard, and suffering blackouts, memory lapses and strange panic-like attacks, he yearns for anonymity and welcomes the isolation offered by his eyrie. But an encounter with a neighbour, Gemma, and her somewhat disturbed (and disturbing) six-year-old grandson Kai brings back memories of the past and forces him to face a physical threat in the present which is far more dangerous than the demons in his head.
Their predicament rekindles Keely’s fighting spirit. If he can’t save the natural world, perhaps he can save one little boy – as long as the nightmares intruding on his consciousness don’t consume him first.
The career disaster that leaves Keely a broken man is never fully articulated, but Eyrie touches on the moral issues surrounding both environmental activism and the unfettered pursuit of economic growth through activities such as mining and development. The themes never overshadow the taut storyline involving a tortured soul, a besieged family, drugs and criminal thugs; rather, they give it contemporary context and a uniquely Australian flavour.
Tim Winton’s Eyrie, published by Hamish Hamilton
In one of the protagonist’s anst-ridden ruminations, he rails against materialism and the absurdity of modern preoccupations:
The world was indeed choking on a bone. Obama trying for a bail-out. Everyone covering the bankers’ arses. Which was heartwarming. But here at home hardly a ripple. Endless reserves of mining loot. Safe as houses. Although when it came to bricks and mortar it seemed the good folks of Perth were stunned to learn that their property prices might flatten out, which would be for them, he imagined, confirmation the world really had slipped its moorings. Still, some bloke in Queensland, clearly refusing to surrender to the lure of introspection, had set a new record by bursting forty-seven watermelons over his own head. Go, Australia.
Elsewhere, Keely refers to Perth to as a “pastel toy town that has bulldozed its past and buried its doubts”.
Winton, who has been involved in environmental issues such as the Ningaloo Reef campaign, has suggested that Australia as a country is keen to do the same. He recently said on the ABC’s Jennifer Byrne Presents that Keely’s rants weren’t really a reflection of his own disappointments, before adding that it was difficult, “in a culture like ours, which is in a hurry and endlessly consuming and a bit unreflective” not to occasionally get a little exasperated or gloomy.
The four-time Miles Franklin Award winner also self-effacingly told Byrne that Eyrie was a suburban story canvassing similar issues to his previous novels: “There’s anxieties about childhood and parenthood – it’s pretty much the same old crap, isn’t it?”
Crap, it certainly isn’t.
Eyrie is gritty and gripping – a literary thriller with an absorbing story that is at times challenging and haunting. There are passages that demand re-reading because of the beautiful eloquence with which they depict both the everyday and the seemingly indescribable; the tender vision of imagined death is heart-piercing.
This year’s Miles Franklin Award shortlist was an all-female affair, but Winton’s latest masterpiece should guarantee there will be at least one bloke among next year’s finalists.
Jennifer Byrne’s interview with Tim Winton can be viewed on ABC’s The Book Club website.
