Scan barcode
bristoni74's review
3.0
I highly recommend reading this book which is part memoir and part investigation into Australia’s drinking culture. The author’s brother died when he fell off the Storey Bridge in Brisbane one night after completing his uni exams and going out drinking with mates. Whether it was an accident or suicide will never be known but it does raise the question - why do Australian’s consume so much alcohol and need to get “wasted” to relax and have a good time?
Whilst the author looks at alcohol in relation to sexual assault, violence, etc. and if policy and laws can change behaviour, there’s not a lot of depth except that perhaps living in Australia where it’s “safe” and privileged allows us to consume alcohol in large quantities at home, socially and even when attending sporting events like cricket or football. The last page on grief about losing her brother is so perfect and beautiful. I would have given this book 5 stars if the author had explored Australia’s drinking culture more deeply.
Whilst the author looks at alcohol in relation to sexual assault, violence, etc. and if policy and laws can change behaviour, there’s not a lot of depth except that perhaps living in Australia where it’s “safe” and privileged allows us to consume alcohol in large quantities at home, socially and even when attending sporting events like cricket or football. The last page on grief about losing her brother is so perfect and beautiful. I would have given this book 5 stars if the author had explored Australia’s drinking culture more deeply.
kaz1234's review
5.0
'...That the same liquor that gives people enough strength to live in this world, can also make them brave enough to leave it.'
This book by Brissie girl Elspeth Muir gave me chills. It's mostly a personal memoir but opens up into an exploration of Australia's drinking culture at large. Anecdotes of getting blind-drunk and taking risks are cringe-worthy and, too many of us, eerily familiar. Binge drinking is problem behaviour that should raise red flags, but it doesn't. Enough people do it that it seems commonplace - it's created this effect of safety in numbers. Sure, youth is a time to make and learn from mistakes, but alcohol complicates things. And sadly, not everyone gets a second chance. A beautifully told story of a young woman trying to make sense out of loss.
This book by Brissie girl Elspeth Muir gave me chills. It's mostly a personal memoir but opens up into an exploration of Australia's drinking culture at large. Anecdotes of getting blind-drunk and taking risks are cringe-worthy and, too many of us, eerily familiar. Binge drinking is problem behaviour that should raise red flags, but it doesn't. Enough people do it that it seems commonplace - it's created this effect of safety in numbers. Sure, youth is a time to make and learn from mistakes, but alcohol complicates things. And sadly, not everyone gets a second chance. A beautifully told story of a young woman trying to make sense out of loss.
loyalrobyn's review
challenging
emotional
informative
reflective
medium-paced
3.75
Content Warnings
Graphic: Alcohol, Alcoholism, Death, Grief, Rape, Sexual assault, and Sexual violence
Moderate: Cursing, Drug use, Mental illness, Suicide, Toxic relationship, and Violence
Minor: Adult/minor relationship, Car accident, Gaslighting, Religious bigotry, Sexism, Suicidal thoughts, and Vomit
jouljet's review
challenging
emotional
informative
reflective
medium-paced
4.0
Content Warnings
Graphic: Addiction, Alcohol, Alcoholism, Death, Sexual assault, Suicidal thoughts, Violence, and Vomit
ilaon's review
3.0
I was so keen to get my hands on this book. Elspeth Muir's essays are excellent, and Text is a publisher to trust. Australia needs to have a discussion about drinking culture and alcohol abuse. However, Wasted was quite uneven and ultimately unsatisfying.
There are sections that are tight and beautifully written -- passages and chapters that have been workshopped and refined, which would stand alone as essays -- and sections that are weakly researched, over-written and not objective (lack of objectivity in the factual sections, i.e. only researching one point of view at a time, rather than lack of objectivity in the memoir sections, which is to be expected). Some of the refined sections are very poetic, but these lush descriptions appear suddenly, and at random -- the style isn't sustained throughout the book. The result is a mixed author voice that is never really balanced.
Blurring the line between memoir and journalism is a fair literary choice, but a choice that ultimately does a disservice to the subject matter. More ruthless, thorough investigation -- answering questions, rather than just posing them, or critiquing the motivations of her interviewees, or actually interviewing people rather than writing about how awkward she would feel about interviewing someone a second time, when her first attempt was a mess of platitudes -- would have lifted this book out of the personal space and made it a more insightful read.
Some of the author's memoir chapters -- parts that focus on her own abuse of alcohol, her self-hate, her pig-sty living conditions, her destructive relationships with friends -- distract from the main threads: the death of her brother, Alex, and Australia's destructive relationship with alcohol. They distract, rather than enhance, because the assumed premise is that all Australian drinkers experience alcohol the way she does: excessively, filthily, uncontrollably. Discussion of pervasive low-level drinking -- wine every night at the table -- is skimmed over in favour of extreme examples of obvious problem drinking.
A number of mistakes that ought to have been caught at proofing stage ('12 p.m. on a school night', 'Mother Energy drink' and other similar accidents) suggest that maybe there wasn't enough time left in the publishing schedule, that the final deadline had loomed and struck while there was still a bit of work to be done. A second/revised edition should resolve these minor issues.
I wanted to love this book! But, sadly, the matter of Australian drinking culture wasn't explored as deeply as it could have been, and the uneven pacing and tone of the book made it difficult to stick with. Stronger, perhaps, as a collection of essays?
There are sections that are tight and beautifully written -- passages and chapters that have been workshopped and refined, which would stand alone as essays -- and sections that are weakly researched, over-written and not objective (lack of objectivity in the factual sections, i.e. only researching one point of view at a time, rather than lack of objectivity in the memoir sections, which is to be expected). Some of the refined sections are very poetic, but these lush descriptions appear suddenly, and at random -- the style isn't sustained throughout the book. The result is a mixed author voice that is never really balanced.
Blurring the line between memoir and journalism is a fair literary choice, but a choice that ultimately does a disservice to the subject matter. More ruthless, thorough investigation -- answering questions, rather than just posing them, or critiquing the motivations of her interviewees, or actually interviewing people rather than writing about how awkward she would feel about interviewing someone a second time, when her first attempt was a mess of platitudes -- would have lifted this book out of the personal space and made it a more insightful read.
Some of the author's memoir chapters -- parts that focus on her own abuse of alcohol, her self-hate, her pig-sty living conditions, her destructive relationships with friends -- distract from the main threads: the death of her brother, Alex, and Australia's destructive relationship with alcohol. They distract, rather than enhance, because the assumed premise is that all Australian drinkers experience alcohol the way she does: excessively, filthily, uncontrollably. Discussion of pervasive low-level drinking -- wine every night at the table -- is skimmed over in favour of extreme examples of obvious problem drinking.
A number of mistakes that ought to have been caught at proofing stage ('12 p.m. on a school night', 'Mother Energy drink' and other similar accidents) suggest that maybe there wasn't enough time left in the publishing schedule, that the final deadline had loomed and struck while there was still a bit of work to be done. A second/revised edition should resolve these minor issues.
I wanted to love this book! But, sadly, the matter of Australian drinking culture wasn't explored as deeply as it could have been, and the uneven pacing and tone of the book made it difficult to stick with. Stronger, perhaps, as a collection of essays?
bookedandborrowed's review
2.0
This feels like two books smashed unsuccessfully into one. Muir tells the story of her brother Alexander and his death, then switches to a discussion of binge drinking related violence in Australia. This section is largely lacking in research and is instead based on conversations with people who run various programs aimed at young people - none of whom have any qualifications in community development, mental health, or alcohol and other drugs. As a youth worker this offended me and has probably tainted my thoughts on the book as a whole.
Plot spoiler - Alexander starts drinking heavily at 12 and eventually is found dead in the river having jumped off Story Bridge. He left his belongings on the bridge and he is a strong swimmer - the autopsy showed no broken bones, and his blood alcohol content suggested he was still conscious. It feels incredibly naive that Muir refuses to acknowledge that Alexander likely died by suicide or at least misadventure - even a random alcoholic she meets in Argentina draws this conclusion as soon as she shares the story. It seems like much of Alexander’s life remains a mystery and by not honestly examining the role alcohol played in it, Muir conflates two stories which are probably unrelated. Alexander’s story seems more likely to be one of mental health and alcoholism, whereas the issues in the media and the programs she investigates relate more to adolescent risk taking behavior and random violence as a result of binge drinking.
Muir and her brothers clearly have issues with problematic alcohol use and while she lays this out in gory detail, she doesn’t really go into any depth as to why this is, besides loosely suggesting a family issue (addiction can be hereditary, but this is not discussed). Probably could have been a decent memoir if Muir focused on this and went deeper into her family’s relationship with alcohol and her own, and what life looks like without Alexander. Language a bit flowery for my taste.
There’s less hope for the other half of the book. Despite looking at deeply problematic programs such as Red Frogs (started by a self-professed youth worker/Christian chaplain/charlatan who has the audacity to charge his volunteers to work) and a motivational speaker spruiking his grief to school kids, which aim to reduce harm and raise awareness of binge drinking, she doesn’t really offer us any solutions towards changing binge drinking culture in an Australian context.
Plot spoiler - Alexander starts drinking heavily at 12 and eventually is found dead in the river having jumped off Story Bridge. He left his belongings on the bridge and he is a strong swimmer - the autopsy showed no broken bones, and his blood alcohol content suggested he was still conscious. It feels incredibly naive that Muir refuses to acknowledge that Alexander likely died by suicide or at least misadventure - even a random alcoholic she meets in Argentina draws this conclusion as soon as she shares the story. It seems like much of Alexander’s life remains a mystery and by not honestly examining the role alcohol played in it, Muir conflates two stories which are probably unrelated. Alexander’s story seems more likely to be one of mental health and alcoholism, whereas the issues in the media and the programs she investigates relate more to adolescent risk taking behavior and random violence as a result of binge drinking.
Muir and her brothers clearly have issues with problematic alcohol use and while she lays this out in gory detail, she doesn’t really go into any depth as to why this is, besides loosely suggesting a family issue (addiction can be hereditary, but this is not discussed). Probably could have been a decent memoir if Muir focused on this and went deeper into her family’s relationship with alcohol and her own, and what life looks like without Alexander. Language a bit flowery for my taste.
There’s less hope for the other half of the book. Despite looking at deeply problematic programs such as Red Frogs (started by a self-professed youth worker/Christian chaplain/charlatan who has the audacity to charge his volunteers to work) and a motivational speaker spruiking his grief to school kids, which aim to reduce harm and raise awareness of binge drinking, she doesn’t really offer us any solutions towards changing binge drinking culture in an Australian context.
gisellenguyen's review
3.0
3.5 stars – a beautifully written, deeply personal memoir that also blends in elements of reportage, which sometimes teetered on the edge of proselytising. Heartfelt and affecting nonetheless.
avadore's review
5.0
Powerful, stunning work. Part memoir; part investigation into wider Australian drinking culture. I am going to be recommending this book to anyone who will listen to me.
wtb_michael's review
4.0
A smart, sad book that combines the upsetting story of the author's brother's alcohol-related drowning death with a clear-eyed look at drinking in Australia - it's pleasures, problems and the efforts being made to reduce some of the damage. Muir is unflinching about her own drinking and her ability to weigh up the risks and pleasures of intoxication is impressive.
More...