Marlborough Express - Weekend Express
Good hunting tales
Vern Wilson has been a hunter all of his life. During that time he built up a good reputation as a hunting guide and a hunter who downed some trophy stags that won NZ Deerstalker Association’s national awards. But every hunter has his first faltering steps towards his first deer. Vern Wilson wryly recalls his first sight of a wild deer, with "I knew what a deer looked like I’d seen them on Christmas cards."
That laconic comment punctuates this book enhancing the tales. But you may have not noticed, there’s no full stop between the two obvious sentences. Similarly the over-long paragraphs should have been split into three or four to speed up the pace.
Therein lies the fault with this book. It lacks sub-editing and tightening of the text.
Otherwise the recounting of his experiences is good although again sub-editing, which every author needs, would have improved the quality. Vern Wilson’s hunting tales include red deer, tahr, chamois, wapiti, sika and whitetail – a fine variety.
His second to last chapter relates two neartragic incidents when first Vern and then his companion came so very near to a fatality for each – a reminder that extreme care is needed in the mountains.
The author’s hunting days have been an absolute joy to him. His "magical wish would be to live again all my hunting trips, even the bad ones, they make success all the more enjoyable and appreciated." (Note lack of sub-editing). Having shot some fine trophies, Vern now in his 70s, "proudly went back to my grass roots of just being another Kiwi hunter. Now I’m happy I don’t have to prove anything to anyone, just have an enjoyable time in the great outdoors."
Despite grammatical short-comings, From Hoon to Hunter was a very enjoyable read.
In Northern Iceland in 1829 Agnes Magnusdottir has been convicted of killing her lover and sentenced to death. She is sent to the farm of the district officer to work and wait until her execution. The family of Jon, Margret and their two grown daughters are horrified to house a convicted murderess and at first barely speak with her.
Toti, a young assistant minister is appointed as her spiritual adviser. Rather than preaching and praying with Agnes he asks her to tell him about her life. Her story unfolds first in speaking with the clergyman and finally to Margret. In between, chapters written in the first person give a harrowing, personal account of love, betrayal and servitude.
It is a haunting tale based on fact, as Agnes was the last person to be executed in Iceland. The book is strong on character and a sense of season and place. The story draws from the unforgiving landscape for atmosphere and the descriptions are such that you can almost feel the cold and the harsh life of living in a sod wall croft where ‘‘all are beached in a peat bog of poverty’’.
It is also about how others see us, which can define who we are and how we see ourselves. As the family get to know Agnes you can see their opinion of her change. Right up until the last few pages the reader wonders – did she do it?
It seemed a strange topic for an Australian writing her first novel but Hannah Kent spent time in Iceland in her teens on a Rotary exchange when the story of Agnes first gripped her. Researching the records and firsthand knowledge of the land has produced a story that remains with you long after the last page.