YOU CAN­NOT HELP BUT SEEK THE AUTHOR IN HER WORK

The Weekend Australian - Review - - Books - An­gela Meyer

ex­pres­sion of in­ad­e­quacy). Here, the ob­ser­va­tions are Harry’s but the author is present in the novel’s covert metafic­tion­al­ity (draw­ing at­ten­tion to its own con­di­tions of be­ing): In au­thor­ship, the author is not the tree scat­ter­ing his books like leaves; the books are the tree; the author is shed, blown away, dies to make com­post for other leaves and other trees.

All Frame’s books are hearty, hardy trees. They should be vis­ited of­ten. It’s a de­light to have this one re­vealed, stand­ing strong and tall, pal­pa­bly alive, along­side the oth­ers.

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