I think it was about page 42 of Trent Dalton’s latest when I messaged my sister:
“This is not what I expected, but if he can land it, I’ll be impressed.”
He landed it, and again, I’m impressed with Dalton. Which I am sure means so, so much to him.
All of Dalton’s books are different enough that I wouldn’t even say he has a consistent genre, beyond “Australian fiction.” All Our Shimmering Skies was a fable, Lola In The Mirror was akin to an Australian Siri Hustvedt novel, Boy Swallows Universe was from a perspective that made it something all its own.
Gravity Let Me Go is different again, starting out as close to a crime/thriller as lit fic gets, before expanding into a more familiar, family-based drama. It’s like a Magic Eye 3D snow globe, a small, contained story that suddenly expands when you look at it from exactly the right angle.
There are few authors I read these days that make me want to write, as much as they make me want to turn straight back to the first page and do that all over again. Dalton’s one of them – his touch is so deft that he can make me laugh, cry, and yell “yes! I knew it!” within the space of a few pages. The disparate threads are woven together well enough that you can’t see the work; it’s such a good read.
Here he’s married the story of Noah, a true crime author so far down the rabbit hole of his story that he can’t see what’s in front of him, to the tale of Rita, his wife of 23 years, who has taken a back seat to his ambition and the mental load of the household for long enough. Their story emerges through the hectic pace of a killer’s ongoing game with his chosen ghost writer and the chaotic landscape of Queensland summer storms.
It’s a whodunnit, and a family drama, and both of them are done well enough to have stood on their own. It would be impossible to write anything but “Sigh, I am jealous of Dalton and I’d read his shopping list,” except that there’s one weird, jarring annoyance throughout. It’s like every now and then, he remembers – or was instructed by his editor – to insert Australianisms. To make the characters (both university educated) speak like Paul Hogan. So occasionally the flow of the story is disrupted by someone saying “Gotta get ya xyz” or similar. It took me out of the flow of the story every time, and didn’t seem to gel with the characters using it (there are some characters it felt natural to, and thus didn’t bother me). Just… strange.
Overall, though, I’m thrilled to have read this, and struck by the urge to refuse to loan it to family, so I can keep it close and smile whenever I see it. If you have only read/watched Boy Swallows Universe (my least favourite of his novels), I advise you to seek out more of Dalton’s work.
