AustLit

'When I open a book by a white writer and am confronted by the point of view of a person of colour, my body tenses as if in anticipation of a blow. Rather than reading, I pick nervously at the writing in search of cliché and oversimplification. Because the source of the tension I feel in relation to point of view is less a question of who has a right to whose story than it is one of craft. As Rankine and Loffreda point out in their introduction to The Racial Imaginary, “our imaginations are creatures as limited as we ourselves are” and therefore susceptible to the same preconceptions under which we labour as the products of an entire history of racist culture, politics and violence. The first-principle question is not therefore: “can I write from another’s point of view?”, but instead: “why and what for?”' (Introduction)

'When Elisabeth and Johannes catch a glimpse of each other through a window at the start of Lenny Bartulin’s Fortune, it’s as if they already know one another. As the novel progresses we follow the separate journeys of these two characters, along with a cast of others, wondering if their paths will cross again.' (Introduction)

'Mother of Pearl tells the story of a surrogacy from the perspectives of three different women. Meg, a married 39-year-old jeweller from Melbourne, is desperate for a child. Years of IVF treatments have left her bereft, her grief like “a wild animal in a cage”. It’s 2008, the eighth year of south-eastern Australia’s worst drought, and even her once-lush garden is barren, its lawn “straw”, the “ferns like brown bones”.' (Introduction)