A well-written, engaging read that captures the breakdown of community in an Outback Australian town during a devastating drought, as well as providing an intriguing mystery.
Hammer's background as a journalist has its good side and not-so-good side: He knows how to structure and tell a story. His descriptions -- ground-down people, deserted shops, a blasted desert, a raging bushfire -- are incredibly vivid, so that you feel the heat, taste the oily smell of sweat, and understand the never-ending sameness of this dying town that is clinging to life in what is the dictionary definition of "the middle of nowhere." And Hammer clearly understands the dynamic of a reporter going after a story: his central character, Martin, is (in the local lingo) a "journo," and while his amateur investigations become increasingly personal, and motivated by a genuine concern for the people he meets in the multiply-jinxed town of Riversend, thoughts of deadlines, headlines, book deals, and the Australian equivalent of Pulitzers are never far from his mind.
The no-so-good side to this, imho, is that as a journalist, but first-time novelist, Hammer tries too hard. Tries too hard to make Martin a Good Guy, albeit one with ambitions and frailties, and deep insights into his inner landscape. (For example, the shtick about his hands -- how Martin would study his hands, and find them wanting, softer and less capable than real working man's hands -- just started to be annoying ...)**
Hammer also tries too hard to made the Mysterious Affair at Riversend as convoluted and intertwined as possible. I was waiting for the Lindburgh Baby to be discovered in a remote billabong ... The last 100 pages (and I do not exaggerate) are little more than talky exposition, going over and over who-did-what-to-whom ... One major character remains little more than a cipher, someone with whom Martin can talk over the various interconnected mysteries, who can make the occasional phone call to his Deep Sources, and then provide more information that they can talk about ...
BUT, as I said, I think these are the faults of someone transitioning from journalism to fiction, who has produced a very readable first novel -- and will be someone to watch out for in the future.
**Just to balance my snarking about the hands, I should add -- and I don't think this is a Spoiler -- that I loved the way that Hammer has Martin's nightmares about a recent traumatic experience, reporting on the Gaza Strip, evolve over the course of his investigations. As Martin becomes more confident about his role in the Riversend mystery, and its community, the nightmares move from being truly frightening to being a minor nuisance, or even an amusing interlude, as his dream-self thinks ... not AGAIN ... and wonders what will wake him up this time. The hands motif, I think, was clumsy Psychology 101, but this, to me, seemed right on the money.
Hammer's background as a journalist has its good side and not-so-good side: He knows how to structure and tell a story. His descriptions -- ground-down people, deserted shops, a blasted desert, a raging bushfire -- are incredibly vivid, so that you feel the heat, taste the oily smell of sweat, and understand the never-ending sameness of this dying town that is clinging to life in what is the dictionary definition of "the middle of nowhere." And Hammer clearly understands the dynamic of a reporter going after a story: his central character, Martin, is (in the local lingo) a "journo," and while his amateur investigations become increasingly personal, and motivated by a genuine concern for the people he meets in the multiply-jinxed town of Riversend, thoughts of deadlines, headlines, book deals, and the Australian equivalent of Pulitzers are never far from his mind.
The no-so-good side to this, imho, is that as a journalist, but first-time novelist, Hammer tries too hard. Tries too hard to make Martin a Good Guy, albeit one with ambitions and frailties, and deep insights into his inner landscape. (For example, the shtick about his hands -- how Martin would study his hands, and find them wanting, softer and less capable than real working man's hands -- just started to be annoying ...)**
Hammer also tries too hard to made the Mysterious Affair at Riversend as convoluted and intertwined as possible. I was waiting for the Lindburgh Baby to be discovered in a remote billabong ... The last 100 pages (and I do not exaggerate) are little more than talky exposition, going over and over who-did-what-to-whom ... One major character remains little more than a cipher, someone with whom Martin can talk over the various interconnected mysteries, who can make the occasional phone call to his Deep Sources, and then provide more information that they can talk about ...
BUT, as I said, I think these are the faults of someone transitioning from journalism to fiction, who has produced a very readable first novel -- and will be someone to watch out for in the future.
**Just to balance my snarking about the hands, I should add -- and I don't think this is a Spoiler -- that I loved the way that Hammer has Martin's nightmares about a recent traumatic experience, reporting on the Gaza Strip, evolve over the course of his investigations. As Martin becomes more confident about his role in the Riversend mystery, and its community, the nightmares move from being truly frightening to being a minor nuisance, or even an amusing interlude, as his dream-self thinks ... not AGAIN ... and wonders what will wake him up this time. The hands motif, I think, was clumsy Psychology 101, but this, to me, seemed right on the money.
From the very beginning, Chris Hammer's Scrublands grabbed me by the throat and drew me right into the heart of the story. For one thing, I love reading books written by people with a literal as well as a poetic understanding of heat. Must be because I've lived in the Sonoran Desert for many years. But it was also the story itself that wouldn't turn me loose. Why would a young priest-- one who's well-liked by almost everyone in the community-- take a rifle and murder five people?
There are many things to ponder in Scrublands. Martin's own PTSD from an assignment in the Mideast. How PTSD has affected the entire area around Riversend for years (a section that contains some of the best writing in the entire book). And then there's the ambiguity of the town's name. Is it River Send or River's End? Yes, there are many things to think about, just as there's an excellent story to enjoy.
The solution to the murder of the backpackers came as more of a surprise than it should have, primarily because the priest's story took center stage. This book was racing full-out to my Best Reads of 2019 list when it faltered yards before the finish line. What happened? When the story was being wrapped up at the end, there were just too many people with too many motivations. I almost felt as though I needed a scorecard. Be that as it may, Scrublands is still a cracking good read that I certainly recommend. I look forward to other books by Chris Hammer.
There are many things to ponder in Scrublands. Martin's own PTSD from an assignment in the Mideast. How PTSD has affected the entire area around Riversend for years (a section that contains some of the best writing in the entire book). And then there's the ambiguity of the town's name. Is it River Send or River's End? Yes, there are many things to think about, just as there's an excellent story to enjoy.
The solution to the murder of the backpackers came as more of a surprise than it should have, primarily because the priest's story took center stage. This book was racing full-out to my Best Reads of 2019 list when it faltered yards before the finish line. What happened? When the story was being wrapped up at the end, there were just too many people with too many motivations. I almost felt as though I needed a scorecard. Be that as it may, Scrublands is still a cracking good read that I certainly recommend. I look forward to other books by Chris Hammer.
