15/05/2026
THE BOOKLIST
Evening all,
Stan Grant’s latest book, When Words Fail Us, emerged from a series of lectures he delivered last year. Typically, he ranges far and wide in a tick over 100 pages. So it’s a short book that delivers his customary care and concern for the world, the soul, language, family, faith and community. And the need “to still the noise”.
You can read Declan Fry’s chat with him below. Towards the end of the piece, Grant says the best writing sits “in a space just out of the corner of your eye”, which reminds me somewhat of Emily Dickinson’s “Tell all the truth but tell it slant … The Truth must dazzle gradually/ Or every man be blind”.
Grant tells Fry that everything he writes is about his father, Wiradjuri elder Stan Grant snr, and anyone who has read his previous book, Murriyang: Song of Time, out of which these lectures seem to have emerged, will have been left in no doubt as to the central role his father has played in his life.
In that earlier book, he asserts that “the so-called modern world has stripped our souls of wonder and awe; logic and reason are poor substitutes for mystery and mysticism”.
One of the things I found so fascinating in Murriyang was how Grant wrote about being a Wiradjuri man and what that means to him, and about his deep Christian faith: “I call myself a Christian because, in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, I find the full expression of love, mercy and grace. I find the fulfilment of the sacred majesty of my people.”
As he puts it later, “Christ was considered an ancestor: his suffering and crucifixion were an allegory for our plight – his lesson of forgiveness we recognised as the essence of Yindyamarra [the Wiradjuri way of contemplating God]” .
When I discussed the book with Grant at last year’s Sorrento Writers Festival, one of the most absorbing and moving chats I have had with an author, I put it to him that it was two fathers that he was exercised and nurtured by in his writing and his life − Grant snr, and Baiyamme (God).
One of the guests at next week’s Sydney Writer’s Festival, albeit it by video link, is Florence Knapp, the author of The Names, one of the most acclaimed first novels of recent years. It is about how the choice of a name can have a profound impact on the course of a life.
In Madeleine Gray’s interview with her, you can learn about how she spent a few years in Australia as a child and how that influenced − many years later − the writing of the novel. But what’s great is to have two novelists discussing their work. (Gray is the author of the much praised Green Dot and Chosen Family.)
They agree that painful childhood memories for fiction writers have to be hoarded for decades before proving useful. And they share their ambivalent feelings about moving into the public eye: “It’s a peculiar feeling as a debut novelist to start seeing nuggets of information about yourself accruing on the internet,” writes Gray, to which Knapp replies: “A fact file of your life gradually appears.”
Clearly the two had a lot in common, although Gray confesses “I am basking in the relative safety of my role today; it is a relief to be the interviewer rather than the interviewee”. I recommend both their novels.
If The Names was one of those books that had masses of word of mouth even before publication − I remember one bookseller enthusing about it several months before publication − another is Nelio Biedermann’s Lazar, which was published here a few weeks ago in a translation from the German by Jamie Bulloch.
It’s about the decline and fall of an aristocratic Hungarian family from the days of the Hapsburg Empire’s imperial pomp through to the dismal outcome of the 1956 uprising. Biedermann is also one of those shockingly precocious writers (for anyone older than him, that is) – he started the novel when he was 16, finished it at 21 and at 23 is now studying at the University of Zurich (German and film studies, according to his bio in the book).
I can see why the comparison has been made to Joseph Roth’s The Radetzky March and other novels from central European writers, and Lazar has been a big bestseller in Germany. According to The New York Times, it is “thrillingly unburdened by conventional stylistic constraints. The story jumps in time, switches tenses and swaps point of view mid-paragraph. Nobody’s inner thoughts are off limits, even those of Stalin on his deathbed … It’s an audacious approach to portraying a chaotic era when any stable sense of past, present and future has fallen away and nothing can be taken for granted.”
Finally, is there any more we can learn about another family of aristocrats, the Mitfords? A couple of the sisters − Nancy, Unity, Deborah, Jessica and Pamela − wrote their own books. Others, many others, have written about them and then there have been TV shows, adaptations, crime novels based on them, a musical, and more.
Nancy’s novels, notably Love in a Cold Climate and The Pursuit of Love, are delicious, but I’ve always had a soft spot for Jessica – aka Decca – whose Hons and Rebels is a memoir of how she took a very different political direction from some of her family, eloped to Spain during the civil war with her cousin when she was still in her teens, then lived most her life in the US where she joined the communist party, was a social and political activist and wrote books such as The American Way of Death. I was chuffed when I picked up a first edition of H&R in a secondhand bookshop a few years ago.
All this is to say that there is a new and extensive biography of this formidable woman by Carla Kaplan, which The Spectator describes as “engaging and revelatory”.
Kaplan says she put the spotlight on Decca’s unlikely choices in a larger context, and “this biography demonstrates not only what Decca’s remarkable self-transformation cost her − all that she gave up to join the social struggle − but equally important what that transformation from aristocrat to activist brought her in return, and why she always felt the exchange worked so strongly in her favor”.
As always, there’s plenty to read, and I wish you happy reading − whatever it is and wherever you are.
Jason Steger
Jason Steger
Literary journalist
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