Australian books, to speak broadly and generalise, are a little bit like Australian film, vividly told, deeply emotional and full of sex scenes (and by 'sex scenes' I generally mean 'rape'). In fact, I once watched a marathon ten Australian films up until the first sex scene in each and spent a grand total of just three hours and ten minutes in front of the TV before going to bed disgusted with the Australian film industry. Thus it's with great trepidation that I pick up an Australian book or film, expecting the worst of human nature.
This one is an autobiography of Alan Marshall, a boy with crippling polio set in turn of the twentieth century rough and tumble rural Victoria, what unspeakable things wuld happen to this poor, defenceless crippled child...
I steeled myself and began to read...
Number of Books read: 9
Australian dividend: 2.045
Science Fiction dividend: 2.5
Fantasy dividend: 3.5
Biography dividend: 2.5
Mystery dividend: 0.5
Probably Next Up: Morris West, Shoes of the Fisherman/The Devil's Advocate/The Salamander (provided that I finish the Salamander)