NYRB at Elliot Bay Books

A trip to Seattle last week led me to Elliot Bay Books, in the Capital Hill neighborhood. After having some coffee at Odd Fellows Cafe, it was time to go book shopping … 

“Unmoored and adrift after his movie star wife leaves him, the once promising poet Jamie Mangan travels to Ireland to find his roots and, he hopes, himself. On the trail of a dead Irish poet who may be his great grandfather (and also his doppelganger), he meets more family than he bargained for… . Moore renders both the ugly and the beautiful with lyrical ease, and the narrtive burns with pitch-perfect suspense — sublime and terrifying in its depths.”

Employee review by Casey O. 

Finally - - back in print again. An extraordinary book about the collision of culture, the cusp of adulthood and the mystical land of Australia.”

Employee review by Tracy. 

The Rumpus gets metaphysical on Walkabout

There’s an idea that there is something that touches the languageless place within us, outside of symbolic language and the imaginary, something known in psychoanalytic thought as ‘the real’. ‘The real’ cannot be spoken or written. It’s the neo-natal, primal place we have been forever severed from through our inescapable introduction to language, that cornerstone of ‘civilization’. The aboriginal boy represents that place for Mary and Peter [the protagonists of Walkabout], a place they have long since lost access to. Lacan’s statement ‘What does not come to light in the symbolic appears in the real’ is revealed in the brief moments between the three: laughter, eye contact, the embrace of another. These are moments when the ‘real’ cuts through the symbolic, moments of pure existence. Perhaps, even when we are lost in the wild, whether it be in nature or the endless wilderness of the psyche, when we encounter another, we can always speak with them, one way or another.

—from a review of James Vance Marshall’s Walkabout by Anisse Gross in The Rumpus. And if you want to delve even further into the complexities of this seemingly simple story, check out Nicholas Roeg’s classic film adaptation from 1971.

Happy Australia Day!

Happy Australia Day! We wanted to share the slightly controversial national day of Australia by sharing a paragraph from the recently released Walkabout by James Vance Marshall. The action so far: a plane has crashed in the middle of the Australian Outback, leaving two American children as the only survivors. Stranded in a harsh environment, they run into a young Aboriginal boy, in the middle of his initiation to manhood, his Walkabout, a solitary walk that can last as long as six months.

Late in the evening they came to the head of the valley, where it petered out on the edge of a million-acre plateau. The trees were still with them, though not so thickly-growing now. So were the birds. The chat-chats, the corellas, and the sweetly-singing bell birds; and, a little before dark, the bustards. There were three of the bustards. Foolish, inquisitive birds, rather like scraggly turkeys, they followed the children almost at their heels: sniffing, scratching, and plump enough to satisfy the hunger of three. Slowly, imperceptibly, the bush boy dropped behind; edging every closer to the foolish birds. Suddenly—as if it had been thrown—his hand flew out. His fingers closed round the baby bustard’s neck; cut off its life in a single twisted jerk.

Here is the trailer for Nicolas Roeg’s Walkabout, loosely adapted from James Vance Marshall’s book of the same name, which we just released today. Thanks to the blog Ready When You Are, C.B. for the trailer and wonderful article.

Walkabout

We are proud to release today Walkabout by James Vance Marshall (it’s actually a complicated authorship, the introduction below has more details), which was famously adapted into a film by Nicolas Roeg, starring David Gulpilil in his first role. 

The novel is different from the film, but still captures the conflict between two very different cultures, and the surprising beauty of the harsh and dangerous Australian Outback. For a deeper comparison of the book and film, read Lee Siegel’s introduction, which was slightly modified as an article in the January 12th edition of The New York Review of Books. This book will appeal to fans of the film, lovers of Australian culture and landscape, and anyone who enjoys a good bildungsroman adventure.