White Earth

by Andrew McGahan

Book Overview

"The saga of the McIvors is nothing less than a grim and supremely entertaining take on colonialism in Australia and the tortured, stained hearts of all its New World cousins. A-."--Entertainment Weekly

After his father's death, young William is cast upon the charity of an unknown great-uncle, John McIvor. The old man was brought up expecting to marry the heiress to Kuran Station--a grand estate in the Australian Outback--only...

• Format: Paperback
• Language: English
• ISBN: 1569474419
• ISBN13: 9781569474419
• Release Date: January 2007
• Publisher: Soho Press
• Length: 384 Pages
• Weight: 1.05 lbs.
• Dimensions: 1.0" x 5.7" x 8.7"

Customer Reviews

Great summer read.

Hugely popular in Australia, where it won the Miles Franklin Prize for Best Novel of 2004, this exciting story of the outback tells of a man's obsessions with land, its history, and the house that was built upon it many years ago, now a ruin. As the story unfolds, the reader learns about the genocide of the aborigines, the new land legislation which will return access to many aborigine historical sites, and about a young boy's coming-of-age under the tutelage of his obsessed great-uncle. Good summer entertainment.

"Did you ever see the terrible bunyip?"

Set on the plains of Queensland, Australia, this award-winning novel defies genre. It is, on various levels, the epic struggle of white farmers to tame a land which has a life of its own, an historical record of the genocide of the native aborigine population, a murder mystery, and the Gothic study of a man who lets his obsession with a particular piece of land control his life. But it is also the coming of age story of a young boy who may one day represent a fresh new spirit--one of respect for the earth, its history, and all the people who have walked it. William is an eight-year-old when the novel opens in 1992. Upon the death of his father in an explosion and fire on the family farm, William and his mother move to Kuran Station, a remote area west of Brisbane, where William's great-uncle John McIvor owns a huge farm. The farm's once-grand manse is now a decrepit, falling-down ruin, where John McIvor, having alienated his entire family, lives alone, except for a disagreeable housekeeper. McIvor, wanting to see if William might be a suitable heir, orders William to explore the land, feel its spirit, and understand its soul. In various episodes, William finds sacred places and sees visions--of a man on fire, an axe murder, a long-dead explorer, and the mythical bunyip. William's story alternates with that of John McIvor as a young man in the late 1920s. His father, Daniel, "a hard man," was long-time manager of the Kuran Station farm, even participating in the resettlement of the aborigines, but when the Depression hits, Daniel is fired and the family is banished. John vows that someday he will become the owner of the Kuran Station, and he subordinates every aspect of his life to achieving that goal. As the novel develops, it becomes a microcosm of Australia's history of land ownership. The national government is proposing a Native Title Act, which would provide access to ancestral lands for the remaining aboriginal population. John McIvor and his friends are opposed. On every level, the novel is a page-turner, filled with energy and excitement and containing all the elements of a Gothic melodrama. But the novel is also a bit frustrating. Several main characters are shown largely in terms of the obsessions which grip them, and this makes them unlikable and less than sympathetic for the reader. The extended explanation of Native Title legislation occasionally bogs down the narrative in legalistic details, and the descriptions of the land, gorgeous at the beginning of the novel, eventually seem over-written, especially noticeable when William, seriously ill, gets lost on the plains. Winner of Australia's Miles Franklin Prize for Best Novel of 2004, this novel attempts to do it all, and it succeeds on most levels. Those who become involved in the story of William (and I was one) may become so caught up in the excitement that they will hardly care about the areas in which it may be less effective--a terrific read for summer w

The White Earth

Engaging and thoughtful. A book to make you ponder, but not ponderous. Draws you into the mind of a child attempting to cope with the adult world, but doesn't bore you with any of the mundane trials and tribulations of childhood. This is not a coming-of-age story with the usual cliches. You'll be transported to Australia's past and it's present. The landscape is so vividly drawn you may never need to go down under to see it for yourself. It's a story of one man's attempt to connect with land in a place where the land is the source of sustenance, but also cruelty. His vehicle: a child adrift.

Land, fire and water

In Australia, "the Bush" is something more than just wild places - it's anyplace outside the city. It's also an attitude - and from attitude comes politics and law. The law, in this case, is over the question of the Native Title Act. Nearly two centuries ago, the British government declared Australia "terra nullius" - uninhabited by human beings. Over the years, white settlers displaced and murdered the "non-existent" Aborigine people, occupying vast leases of "undeveloped" land. The 20th Century brought a new sense of justice and new legislation to help restore Aborigine access to their sacred places. Whites, fearing displacement of their own, formed resistance groups to fight the new law. This book summarises all that extensive and complex history through two lives - John McIvor and his nephew William. McGahan provides a gripping story, ranging over several generations. It's not always a pretty story. In fact, much of this book is set in the grim environment of the battling squatter. John McIvor has struggled for years to own and occupy the vast holdings of Kuran Station. There's no small irony in the station being named for an Aborigine tribe. Those former occupants are long gone, however, and McIvor's new enemies are drought, bushfires, Native Title, and his own daughter. Fire brings his nephew William into his life at a critical time. William's father has succumbed to a blaze and John takes in William and his mother. It's not simple charity or even family ties underlying this move. John McIvor has long-reaching plans for William. He wants to introduce the boy to the land and its responsibilities. The selection, like most such holdings, is vast and the task of working them is immense Although but nine years old, William has wisdom beyond his years. He comprehends the struggle for survival in an unforgiving environment. The sense of belonging to the land is growing within him, fostered by the elderly John. There are tours of the selection, lessons in the history of the dilapidated House, finding secret places that John holds dear and desires to keep his exclusively. William, although confused and nearly overwhelmed by the force of John's personality and mysterious lifestyle, struggles to understand. It's no easy task for one his age. Eventually, the mysteries are revealed and William, still but a child and sickly from a mysterious illness, must make a choice that will determine the remainder of his life. McGahan's story may be mildly contrived to embrace the context of vast stretches of time and space. There's the need to convey the issues involved and why those are important to the characters. Occupying the land, obtaining water for stock and crops, and combatting the pervasive bushfires are the underlying and constant themes. The author's portrayals of John McIvor and William are excellent, although it's problematic just how astute a nine-year-old would be in the complexity of events he must confront. Having l

"A kingdom of their own"

Eight-year-old William's life irrevocably changes, when one day he watches his father die in a freak farming accident. Confused and perplexed, the farm laden with debts, William is told by his sickly mother that they will no longer be able to afford to carry their farm deep within the Darling Downs, North Western Queensland alone. Their savior comes in the form of John McIvor, a mysterious uncle, who appears to be willing to take both of them in, offering them refuge in Kuran House, a stately old squatter mansion. Once owned by the White family, a dynasty of wealthy pasturalists, Kuran House has unfortunately seen better days. Now a crumbling down ruin, the huge manor house has been reduced almost to ruins, with the aging John McIvor the only tenant. The running of what is left of the property is left to Mrs. Griffith, a morose and elderly housekeeper. McIvor is a desperate man. His entire life's work entailed claiming ownership to the Kuran property, and now he is desperate to find an heir to his fading dynasty. With his hopes resting on William, McIvor embarks on a program of education, instilling into his young protégé, the history of the house and it's vast surrounds; even allowing William to take the rest of the year off from school. But John is not prepared to hand over the property without William proving himself first, and although, William's mother, is desperate for security and a better life, William has to perform for his uncle; he has to show that he is sympathetic to the values and morals of his conservative heritage. However, William's life at Kuran House is fraught with difficulties: He soon develops a severe earache, and while his mother tries to care for the old man in order to secure a place in his heart, William finds himself caught in a battle of ideals and of wits. The arrival of Ruth McIvor, John's estranged daughter ensures that there will be no safe ground between father and daughter or William. John McIvor represents old-world Australia, representative of the White Australia movement. Head of the local Australian Independence league, the aging patriarch is horrified at the impending Aboriginal Land rights legislation that is about to be passed by Paul Keating's current labor government. Suspicious of a party that he sees as high handed, he thinks that the politicians in Canberra are debating ways to deny the basic entitlements of ownership over land and consequently, security in that ownership. Rather than seeing the Mabo case as a victory for aborigines, John and his ilk see the establishment as a malevolent force, telling "us where we can and can't go in our own country." John believes the real Australians are those that built the country on hard work and self reliance, reflecting a world of independence, the backbone of Australian society, who slowly built up their stations and built stockyards and shearing sheds. The anger steadily burns in John, "the land speaking to him directly, pulsing up through a stone