The hardback dust cover of this hand-achingly huge novel is shot through with fuscia bullet holes, and that’s a bit how you’ll feel when you read it: emotionally punctured but simultaneously tickled a heartwarming shade of pink.
A son narrates the story of his dad, ‘the most hated man in Australia’, and his uncle, ‘the most loved man in Australia’. It’s a long read, but it whips along and you’ll come out wanting more. If you like novels that drag you inside the characters’ heads and shine torches in places you haven’t even explored inside your own, read this book. ‘Empathy’ doesn’t come close to describing how invested I felt in the leads by the inevitably ‘back-to-reality’ ending.
The worrying thing? These are some seriously messed up characters. In some ways, it’s a treacherous read: convictions of immortality, self-indulgent fantasies, over-thinking, the very temptation of insanity and despair bellow from the pages, beckoning you closer. However, Toltz’s genius isn’t just that he makes you spot these traits in yourself, but that he makes you point and laugh at them on sighting.
Yes, it’s a self-indulgently long book (one of those I wish I had the guts to wield a cleaver on), and yes, from time to time, it makes you want to tear out the pages and try to suffocate yourself with them, but did I love it? Absolutely.
Leave a Reply