'romulus, my father', by raimond gaita
i had my suspicions about this book. i had heard that it was a wonderful novel, but i wasn't in a huge hurry to read another book written by a wistful, nostalgic old man about how great and noble his father had been. i couldn't imagine what i could find to relate to in a book of this kind.
i think i should stop judging books by what their blurbs lead me to believe they will be about.
this was a completely honest, involving, and beautiful text. it confronted themes of mental illness, suicide, and the migrant experience in australia, with unsentimental honesty. he writes like a philosopher, in a measured, thoughtful, and clear manner, and that saves the novel from being a romanticised history of 'growing up tough in the bush'.
i'd strongly recommend it to anyone who enjoys a good auto/biography.