Sunday, January 29, 2017

The Boy Behind the Curtain - Tim Winton

2017 Reading Calendar - January

Late in the day we step out into the withering heat. Most of the sting has gone from the sun but the air is still so hot it's like trying to inhale a fluffy towel fresh from the tumble dryer.
From 'High Tide', The Boy Behind the Curtain


Twenty-two years ago, I stopped reading Tim Winton. There was something about the ending of The Riders that so infuriated me, I swore I would never read him again. Of course, now I can't tell you exactly what it was that made me so mad. And my (gradually dissipating) fury didn't stop me reading his non-fiction when it appeared in newspapers and The Monthly. But it did stop me reading his novels and the highly praised Island Home.

Last October, I decided it was time for a change of heart and it was Winton himself who won me over. At an event at the National Library to promote his non-fiction collection, The Boy Behind the Curtain, he enthralled me with his storytelling and his fearlessness. You can listen to the event online. I bought the book and it sat in my to-be-read pile until now.

When I chose it for the Reading Calendar, I assumed it would be a great read for summer, full of Winton's renowned love for the ocean. And it is. 'High Tide' and 'The Wait and the Flow' take you to the beach and into the sea. But the book reveals more than just the experience of being in and on the water. Many of the essays explore Winton's love of the 'litoral', For Winton, the spaces on the edge - of the sea, of the desert, of civilisation, of society - are the spaces that engage his imagination and they are often the subject of his non-fiction.

The essays in the book are presented chronologically, so we begin with the boy Winton quite literally hiding behind the 'terylene curtain', taking aim with his father's shotgun at people passing by, We watch him grow up, going to university, parenting and grandparenting. He writes about hospitals, class, the environment, Ireland, 2001: A Space Odyssey, art and refugees, about sharks and whales and Ningaloo Reef. Occasionally, he writes about writing, of being taught by Elizabeth Jolley, of the urgent need to 'light out' once a book is finished.

Winton's knowledge of Australian flora and fauna amazes and shames me. In 'Repatriation', I travel alongside him to Lake Moore but am almost left behind by his knowledge of marsupials. Bilbies I know, but boobies, woylies, 'the elusive wambenger, the chuditch ... and several species of dunnarts' have me running to Wikipedia. He calls me back as
A mob of Major Mitchell's cockatoos spills, untidy as a closing-time crowd, from a desert cypress.
I know I will never see cockatoos in any other way again.

Winton surprises me most, though, when he writes about religion, the way it shaped his childhood and continues to inform his life. I'm struck by how little I read about religious belief and I wonder if this reflects my reading choices or whether we hesitate to reveal our spiritual selves in this secular world.

'Twice on Sundays' reveals Winton's childhood as part of the Church of Christ. My grandfather, who died 10 years before I was born, was a Church of Christ minister. By the time I was attending Sunday School, though, the Church of Christ had faded and my mother chose the Methodist Church as the next best thing. I grew up knowing a little about  my grandfather's faith, that full-immersion baptism marked the Church of Christ as different. But if pressed, I wouldn't describe it as 'a counterculture', as Winton does. I still find it hard to reconcile the family picture of my grandfather with the 'militantly religious' upbringing Winton experienced. And yet ... perhaps I can.

The Boy Behind the Curtain is best read slowly, savouring the language, pondering the ideas. Inevitably, as many of the essays have been published previously, there is a sense of familiarity, occasionally of repetition as an incident is revisited in part or from a different angle. And occasionally, Winton sermonises, perhaps not surprising given his upbringing but often disconcerting, breaking the rhythm of his storytelling.

If you have never read any Winton, The Boy Behind the Curtain is a great place to begin. And if, like me, you are seeking reconciliation, it is joyful, heartrending,and often thought-provoking.

The Boy Behind the Curtain by Tim Winton, published by Penguin Random House Australia, 2016