Susan Johnson has attacked some pertinent subject matter here (apparently the book deals with seven problems attacked by, or attacking, the Barton family over the years, though this was not immediately apparent to me).
The descriptions of making art in this book are beautiful, yet like their creator, they are not allowed to dominate. What does dominate is the parents' story and the parents' life - the weight of this sweet, often funny novel is pitched against Elizabeth's late boomer generation quite deliberately, and one recognises over time that the novelist has made a choice to examine her controlling, self-involved parents as forensically as possible without excavating their hearts, wisely leaving us to fill in those gaps ourselves.
While I did not find the resolution as unlikely as one reviewer has, I did become impatient at times because I realised that I'm one of the strident ones, like sister-in-law Katie, one of the ones that wants a clear, transparent story in which everything is explained and uncovered. (The psychotherapist Adam Phillips has spoken of this desire, in his characteristically half-derisive fashion, as the need to 'translate a person'.)
However the beauty of this book is that it attempts to delicately describe what it is that Elizabeth, her siblings and her parents turn away from uncovering, over and over again through the course of their lives; a psychology lecture is not on the agenda. I read Life In Seven Mistakes with great, school-marmish relief at times that I could spot immediately what it was that Elizabeth should not put up with from her ageing, suffocating parents: no baby names, no rubbishing about her mistakes, no extended holidays with people who talk to her like she is garbage (for Christ's sake, just go visit them and stay in a hotel!!). This woman doesn't set boundaries, and should. Some would find this annoying, and have said as much.
But as Johnson indicates clearly throughout, she hasn't set them with anyone else either. Life has simply happened while she was busy not making any plans in particular, and this seems to be what her parents resent the most, while blissfully ignoring the fact that they were given different life work to do in their time.
While some of this is a bit rushed, there are some very touching moments towards the end as the bullying, self-sufficient patriarch of the family becomes ill and vulnerable, and relationships are sustained in spite of deep hurt and constant misunderstanding as a health crisis is faced.
I enjoyed, as always, reading about Cooma and the Snowy too. I also noted the care with which young family members in the book were depicted, especially the lovely, gangly-legged teenage girls. And not everything was tied up neatly - there were plenty of prickles left over for later, which was quite satisfying. Definitely a 'machine that works' here.
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