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tasmanian_bibliophile's review against another edition
4.0
‘Strange how little his body shows the evidence of his life.’
Jovan and Suzana have escaped the horrors of Sarajevo by seeking refuge in Australia. For them, life in Melbourne is nothing like their old lives in pre-war Sarajevo: once academics, they are now both cleaners. Jovan cleans at a bayside hospital in Melbourne and Suzana cleans houses. The death of their two children in Sarajevo causes them both, in different ways, great pain.
During a hot Melbourne summer, Jovan finds his cleaning work disrupted by acts of graffiti in various places around the hospital. The cryptic and disturbing graffiti has an impact on Jovan, it reminds him of aspects of the past that he is trying to come to terms with. He cleans up, time after time, knowing that the graffitist (nicknamed Dr Graffito) is probably aware that Jovan is the cleaner. In the meantime, life moves along. Jovan keeps thinking he must replace the brake pads in his panel van before the brakes fail, and he feels considerable pain from toothache. Suzana cleans for people who seem to appreciate her services, but she knows there should be more to life. Jovan and Suzana are largely invisible to those around them, and many of their interactions (both with each other and with others) touch only on aspects of them as people. Their lives are not satisfying, and they long to recover what was important to them in the past.
‘The two worlds appear far apart. Sarajevo is across the seas, and as time goes by, the separating waters seem ever broader to Jovan and Suzana, yet the box, which they cannot open, and cannot close contains their Sarajevo lives.’
How can you make a new life in another country when your old life carries such pain? Is it possible to reclaim what is good and find peace from what is painful? Gradually we learn more about Jovan and Susana, about their lives and aspirations in Sarajevo, about their dreams for starting again in Australia. We see the scars of the past, and how they are (inadvertently or otherwise) rubbed raw by the unthinking actions of those around them. As if, somehow, the fact of being given refuge should nullify or neutralize the past.
‘A world of diminished men labouring without end, for no good reason, and a woman’s job thrown in there after them, somehow, however she might fit the shoes provided, broken crystal slipper or otherwise.’
I found this novel profoundly moving, as well as a reminder that human experiences are complex and layered. It reminded me as well as some uncomfortable aspects of Australia: assumptions about refugees and not taking the time to learn how to pronounce names. All part of a subconscious, or sometimes unconscious, process of differentiation. Jovan and Suzana are two people profoundly affected by war, but not (yet) destroyed by their experiences.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
Jovan and Suzana have escaped the horrors of Sarajevo by seeking refuge in Australia. For them, life in Melbourne is nothing like their old lives in pre-war Sarajevo: once academics, they are now both cleaners. Jovan cleans at a bayside hospital in Melbourne and Suzana cleans houses. The death of their two children in Sarajevo causes them both, in different ways, great pain.
During a hot Melbourne summer, Jovan finds his cleaning work disrupted by acts of graffiti in various places around the hospital. The cryptic and disturbing graffiti has an impact on Jovan, it reminds him of aspects of the past that he is trying to come to terms with. He cleans up, time after time, knowing that the graffitist (nicknamed Dr Graffito) is probably aware that Jovan is the cleaner. In the meantime, life moves along. Jovan keeps thinking he must replace the brake pads in his panel van before the brakes fail, and he feels considerable pain from toothache. Suzana cleans for people who seem to appreciate her services, but she knows there should be more to life. Jovan and Suzana are largely invisible to those around them, and many of their interactions (both with each other and with others) touch only on aspects of them as people. Their lives are not satisfying, and they long to recover what was important to them in the past.
‘The two worlds appear far apart. Sarajevo is across the seas, and as time goes by, the separating waters seem ever broader to Jovan and Suzana, yet the box, which they cannot open, and cannot close contains their Sarajevo lives.’
How can you make a new life in another country when your old life carries such pain? Is it possible to reclaim what is good and find peace from what is painful? Gradually we learn more about Jovan and Susana, about their lives and aspirations in Sarajevo, about their dreams for starting again in Australia. We see the scars of the past, and how they are (inadvertently or otherwise) rubbed raw by the unthinking actions of those around them. As if, somehow, the fact of being given refuge should nullify or neutralize the past.
‘A world of diminished men labouring without end, for no good reason, and a woman’s job thrown in there after them, somehow, however she might fit the shoes provided, broken crystal slipper or otherwise.’
I found this novel profoundly moving, as well as a reminder that human experiences are complex and layered. It reminded me as well as some uncomfortable aspects of Australia: assumptions about refugees and not taking the time to learn how to pronounce names. All part of a subconscious, or sometimes unconscious, process of differentiation. Jovan and Suzana are two people profoundly affected by war, but not (yet) destroyed by their experiences.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
misslin's review against another edition
4.0
This was an interesting read. For me the mystery of Dr Grafitto is secondary to the story of how Jovan and Suzana live with their trauma and adapt to their lives in Australia. The images of the traumatic events in their past are seering.
I don't think I will ever forget the image of a refugee mother giving her hungry children her share of their rations, only for the children to die because it was poisoned. How on earth, my logical untraumatised by war mind says, could anyone hate so much that they poison the food of children? And similarly how could you go on living when this had happened to your children?
Despite the seering images of trauma, the images of everyday life ground this book and make it relatable. I especially like Jovan's spongy brakes on his Transit van that he keeps meaning to fix but takes a long time getting around to.
A good read. I read it while in Spain and really appreciated the authenticity of images of Melbourne, including the lorikeets on the back fence ( or were they rozellas?)
I don't think I will ever forget the image of a refugee mother giving her hungry children her share of their rations, only for the children to die because it was poisoned. How on earth, my logical untraumatised by war mind says, could anyone hate so much that they poison the food of children? And similarly how could you go on living when this had happened to your children?
Despite the seering images of trauma, the images of everyday life ground this book and make it relatable. I especially like Jovan's spongy brakes on his Transit van that he keeps meaning to fix but takes a long time getting around to.
A good read. I read it while in Spain and really appreciated the authenticity of images of Melbourne, including the lorikeets on the back fence ( or were they rozellas?)
anitatang's review against another edition
3.0
Found this one a little hard going, mainly because of the central violent mystery and the bleak nature. A great insight into the lives of migrants and the challenges of starting a new life after fleeing horrific situations in home countries. Particularly poignant given Australia's current policy towards people seeking asylum and refugees.
Powerful reminder that whenever we cross paths with people who come from conflict zones, that they have more than likely seen horror and experienced grief that we can never imagine.
Powerful reminder that whenever we cross paths with people who come from conflict zones, that they have more than likely seen horror and experienced grief that we can never imagine.
samslifeinbooks's review against another edition
4.0
This is an excellent book. Deeply moving, it is not the easiest to read but well worth the effort.
exurbanis's review against another edition
4.0
The heat of the Melbourne summer certainly came through.
I think I might have 'enjoyed' this even more if I was Australian.
I think I might have 'enjoyed' this even more if I was Australian.
hickey_mt's review against another edition
2.0
I have been looking forward to reading this since it won the Miles Franklin. That win, plus the overwhelming number of other positive reviews suggests that the problem here is me, not the book.
I read half of it, considered abandoning it, read the reviews here and decided to press on - I shouldn't have.
I read half of it, considered abandoning it, read the reviews here and decided to press on - I shouldn't have.
tintededges's review against another edition
5.0
4.5 - check out my full review at https://tintededges.wordpress.com/2016/11/28/black-rock-white-city/
crazybooklady_'s review against another edition
4.0
The winner of the Miles Franklin award for 2016 is Black Rock White City. A novel telling the story of Jovan and Suzana, two refugees from Sarajevo escaping their horrific past. Now living in Melbourne Jovan works as a cleaner in a hospital where some mysterious and troubling graffiti starts cropping up. This story follows the couple and the people around them as they try and navigate their new lives in Australia and reestablish their relationship, while allowing their past selfs to merge with their current ones.
Patric has an incredibly beautiful writing style. He manages to meld humour with some incredibly deep observations about war and loss. I found myself laughing out loud at times due to these small moments of hilarity, some of which completely demonstrating what it is like to be an Australian. Then there were some passages where he was discussing war, men and the devil and the wording was so eloquent I have marked out the passages to reread because what he has said is such an incredible representation of the essence of war and written with such grace and passion. I fell in love with his words. I loved that Jovan was a poet and lecturer back in Bosnia and enjoyed the moments he found poetry in his daily life. Read this even if you only love beautiful writing, one of the most well-written books I have read this year.
The two main protagonists are complex characters that slowly shed their layers as the novel progresses. Jovan is the strong, silent, gentle giant, choosing to keep his stilted English to converse with those around him. I enjoyed reading his perspective the most as he was a character with several contradictions. There were parts of him I understood and there were parts I did not. All kept my interest in the pages as I was struggling to piece his life together. Suzana was much more mysterious with the reader only reading her perspective late in the novel. Her character has many struggles but is much stronger than you initially give her credit for. I found myself wanting the two of them to find their way back to each other and their former selfs for much of the book. The host of supporting characters are interesting and a few in particular are great caricatures of typical Australians you might find around the place. Again, Patric hits the nail of the head.
The sub-plot of the hospital graffiti artist, or Dr Graffito as Jovan thinks of him, is intriguing and add a great deal of pace to the plot, the beginning in particular. It keeps you on edge to find out what he comes up with next and you spend the novel wondering who could Graffito be? You are eventually rewarded with the reveal in the dying pages. I did find the ending missing a little bit of something? Overall the ending does all tie together and I can see how it received the Miles Franklin award.
I would recommend this book to anyone, there are some beautiful and profound words to be found in these pages. Along with simple laugh out loud moments, mysteries and snatches of everyday life. I give Black Rock White City four of Suzana's notebooks, slowly forming her novel.
Patric has an incredibly beautiful writing style. He manages to meld humour with some incredibly deep observations about war and loss. I found myself laughing out loud at times due to these small moments of hilarity, some of which completely demonstrating what it is like to be an Australian. Then there were some passages where he was discussing war, men and the devil and the wording was so eloquent I have marked out the passages to reread because what he has said is such an incredible representation of the essence of war and written with such grace and passion. I fell in love with his words. I loved that Jovan was a poet and lecturer back in Bosnia and enjoyed the moments he found poetry in his daily life. Read this even if you only love beautiful writing, one of the most well-written books I have read this year.
The two main protagonists are complex characters that slowly shed their layers as the novel progresses. Jovan is the strong, silent, gentle giant, choosing to keep his stilted English to converse with those around him. I enjoyed reading his perspective the most as he was a character with several contradictions. There were parts of him I understood and there were parts I did not. All kept my interest in the pages as I was struggling to piece his life together. Suzana was much more mysterious with the reader only reading her perspective late in the novel. Her character has many struggles but is much stronger than you initially give her credit for. I found myself wanting the two of them to find their way back to each other and their former selfs for much of the book. The host of supporting characters are interesting and a few in particular are great caricatures of typical Australians you might find around the place. Again, Patric hits the nail of the head.
The sub-plot of the hospital graffiti artist, or Dr Graffito as Jovan thinks of him, is intriguing and add a great deal of pace to the plot, the beginning in particular. It keeps you on edge to find out what he comes up with next and you spend the novel wondering who could Graffito be? You are eventually rewarded with the reveal in the dying pages. I did find the ending missing a little bit of something? Overall the ending does all tie together and I can see how it received the Miles Franklin award.
I would recommend this book to anyone, there are some beautiful and profound words to be found in these pages. Along with simple laugh out loud moments, mysteries and snatches of everyday life. I give Black Rock White City four of Suzana's notebooks, slowly forming her novel.