Ruth Pettis: Like small bones

Reviewed by PHILIPPA JAMIESON

Bleak yet poetically written, this first novel lays bare a trail of pain and disappointment that connects — and separates — the characters. Here are people coping with adoption, abuse, and the ache of loveless family relationships.

Otago Peninsula writer Ruth Pettis begins the tale with Gerald, who, finally, after the death of his mother, uncovers the secret of his birth, and takes steps to contact his birth mother, Violet. Violet's story unfolds against a backdrop of domestic detail, culminating in the stark revelation of how Gerald was conceived. Her parents and Gerald's mother offer glimpses into their lives, stretching the timeframe out over the past century.

The writing is spare, technically well-crafted, with evocative imagery, and comes alive during passages of action and dialogue. Diary excerpts and letters give an authentic feel to the earlier period. But during longer passages of thought and description the narrative languishes. Violet's mother's rejection of her daughter was explained but didn't feel real to me.

There is the skeleton of a good story here, and the novel is readable, but there is little that is uplifting or even moving, given that the characters are held at arm's length. The most powerful and pivotal incidents come at the end — Gerald's conception, and trip to meet Violet — but their power is reduced by the lack of build-up.

Then again, perhaps it is a sense of ordinary people muddling along, trying in their own quiet ways to endure that the author wishes to convey. There is hope: in some ways both Gerald and Violet set themselves free, and neither continues the cycle of emotional or physical violence.

* Philippa Jamieson is a Dunedin writer

* Hazard, $24.99