AXIOMATIC :: Maria Tumarkin

A version of this review previously appeared in Shelf Awareness and is republished here with permission.

When Australian literary legend Helen Garner says, "No one can write like Maria Tumarkin," one sits up and pays attention. Cultural historian Tumarkin teaches creative writing at the University of Melbourne while writing novels and essays. Axiomatic testifies to Tumarkin's captivation by and insight into sociology; these five extended essays explore themes that stir intriguing communal reaction and response.

In "Time Heals All Wounds," several youth suicides rock a school community. Students grieve through English papers, "submitting their heartbeats as assignments." Tumarkin delves into the cultural reaction to suicide. The school's administration tries to comfort, but Tumarkin signals the particular difficulties with suicide by deftly contrasting the handling of multiple student deaths in a car accident.

Perceptions of historical trauma and the inadequacy of children's courts are depicted in "Those Who Forget the Past Are Condemned to Re--." A Polish couple abducts their grandson and hides him in a Melbourne "dungeon." Discounting the grandmother's argued protection of the boy as a misapplication of her own trauma (hiding from Nazis to survive the Holocaust), authorities prosecute her and send the boy "home" to unfit parents.

Tumarkin's writing is often hauntingly beautiful, but the exploration of the generational influences of trauma, addiction and suicide always feels journalistically balanced. The past marks us, but is only one element on the road to "junkie or philanthropist," businesswoman of the decade or abject failure. There are no Hollywood endings, just a fascinating reflection of life in the tarred trenches.

STREET SENSE: Tumarkin is a cultural historian with a knack for exploring how communities and bureaucracies handle various traumas and crimes, as well as the generational impact on those affected.

A FAVORITE PASSAGE:  Nothing is more human than the experience of feeling trapped. And everything's a trap, your past, family, genes, addictions, loneliness, that feeling that pretty much everyone else is galloping gaily ahead while you are crawling backwards like a lobster or lopsided baby.

COVER NERD SAYS:  Covers for a collection of essays feels like they would be more difficult than a straight story or non-fiction arc. That leaves me grading this cover with a less heavy hand. It's a fine cover, but I have no clue what these essays are about, or even that it's a collection of essays. But I knew this was an Australian author writing about Australian things, so I didn't really need to be sucked in by the cover. Had that need been there, I can't say this cover would have attracted me. (Though the Helen Garner quote would have, crimping my "blurbs are the worst" theory.)