A clash of classes

In this remarkable debut, written as part of an MA in creative writing at Victoria University, Clare Moleta thrusts her readers into a claustrophobic, dystopian future. The setting, she says in a brief note, “is Australia but not Australia. Geography, distance and time have been altered; some things moved around and others invented entirely.”

Moleta draws on some marquee dystopian precedents — there are echoes of Mad Max, The Hunger Games and Cormac Mccarthy’s The Road throughout.

The story’s told from the point of view of Li — a tough, resilient woman who goes in search of her 8-year-old daughter, Matti, missing after fire engulfs their camp.

Li doesn’t know whether Matti is dead or alive but there are reports a group of kids have been seen getting into a bus. That’s all the information she needs.

The rest of the novel documents Li’s harrowing quest across a barren landscape to find Matti — braving hurricanes, thieves, hunger and the Kafkaesque bureaucracy of the State (Li’s most valuable skill is that she can “patch” old phones, a skill she trades on to get phone calls in order to glean any info regarding her daughter’s whereabouts; mostly she’s put on hold or randomly disconnected).

Moleta never explains why her novel’s world is in the dire state it is — buffeted by wars, food shortages and horrific weather events — but it’s clear that mismanagement of the climate by the powers that be has played a major part.

Significantly, we never meet anyone from the power elites — Moleta focusing on everyday people Li meets along the way. Some are kind — sharing what little they have; whereas others take advantage — one woman breaks her ankle and steals her patching tools; one driver who picks her up on the road demands sex as payment.

Late in the novel, the best thing one character can say about Li is that he’s glad she hasn’t “gotten herself killed yet” — and while Li has elements of heroism about her there’s a coldness to her some readers may find off-putting.

The world of Unsheltered consists of a society divided into two classes — the sheltered and the unsheltered. The sheltered appear to live a little less harrowing life inside the walls of protected compounds, while outside it’s fend-for-yourself anarchy, standing in queues for food, fighting for any small luxuries, knowing your child — and there is a “one child only” policy in effect — will go to war when they turn 15.

Some talk of “deeper islands” where water flows “out of the rocks and children didn’t go to war” but the day-to-day world as an “unsheltered” is a Darwinian dog-eat-dog survival game.

There’s a sense that things have been this way for years and no one expects it to get better.

Li sees hope as a poison. Slowly Moleta fills in the back story of our inscrutable protagonist; a woman who never wanted

Clare Moleta’s remarkable dystopian debut to be a mother and who feels she’s been a failure in the role.

There’s an unusual relationship with Matti’s father (who, in a role reversal, was immediately bonded to his daughter) all told in fragmented flashbacks.

There’s also the legacy of a decision her mother made that ensured her brother becomes the one who is sheltered and she is left to wander.

It’s a grim but skilfully built world Moleta presents, one where all the trimmings of a civil society have been stripped away.

The result is a demanding novel that could well attain a cult-like fanbase and marks Moleta out as one of our most intriguing new literary talents.