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The White Earth, Andrew McGahan
Allen & Unwin
Reviewed by Jan Treliving-Brown (Courtesy of Taranaki Daily News)

When my Australian cousin recommended Andrew McGahan to me, The White Earth was my first choice. Melbourne-based McGahan has previously published three other novels, notably Praise, in 1992.

McGahan always had a vision of this compelling story:
"Even as a little kid, I always had this image in my head of a man wrapped in flames. I used to imagine that he was somewhere out in the night, way out on the plains, just standing there, burning silently. Waiting for something. I never knew what it meant. But I suppose that's where the book really started..."

Kuran House sits overlooking majestic Kuran Station, once thriving, superbly productive plains belonging to young William's forefathers. William is only eight years old in 1992 when his father is killed in a grisly accident on the family farm. William's feeble mother seems incapable of rallying. She seeks help from pills, potions and her reclusive, oddball uncle living in the old Kuran House ruins.

What a life for William. Afflicted with a bogus case of glandular fever, he's allowed to stay home with Mum. Uncle John slowly thaws and the two begin a journey that sees William groomed to inherit the Kuran dynasty.

McGahan's seamless writing merges Aboriginal spirituality with Uncle John's creepy insight into the land, the elements, the bottomless swimming hole, those mysterious bones and an ancestry whose atrocities might be better forgotten.

The White Earth has been described as a dark, haunting, cautionary tale. Normally such words would deter me from even starting. On this occasion I'm glad I did. I enjoyed the Aussie-ness of it, especially the portrayal of William, a boy with integrity whose inquisitive nature must be satisfied ... if only this pain, this awful, awful pain would go away...