Smoke

• “From the moment I got here, I’ve wanted to set the whole of Brisbane on fire,” reflects Andrew, the protagonist of Melanie Saward’s debut novel.
• Saward, a Bigambul and Wakka Wakka author, moved to Bracken Ridge in the northern suburbs of Brisbane as a teenager, after growing up in Tasmania.
• Fire is symbolic: it’s power and control for Andrew, who has precious little control over his life.

Reading as ‘invited guests’

• Writes Leane:
  Presencing means the recognition that First Nations works are happening in the same ‘now’ as the settler reader.
• Presencing means the recognition that First Nations works are happening in the same ‘now’ as the settler reader.

• While my own experience was very different, I recognise the way poverty and deprivation press up against natural beauty in Saward’s novel.
• As an adult living in Melbourne, I became gradually aware of the economic gap between the mainland and Tasmania.
• They were reasons I left the state when I was old enough to do so.
• Despite living in Melbourne for nearly 30 years, I still feel the thread Saward writes about, connecting me to Tasmania.
• Burn, however, generates a type of “presencing” that allows you to see complexity in the way the past manifests in the present.

Inside family trauma

• “We don’t know how deep it is,” he said the first time I started wading in for a paddle.
• If a nice, warm, nearly nine-year-old boy gets in, they might think you’re their dinner.” The tidal pool becomes a recurring image for trauma.
• We see inside family trauma, how the dynamics are self-perpetuating.
• We also bear witness to the role institutions play in exacerbating trauma associated with colonialism, such as ongoing disconnection from culture.

Crossover appeal

Burn has obvious crossover appeal for teen and adult audiences, with a strong adolescent protagonist driving the story. So it interests me that this novel has been published as adult fiction. In fact as a young adult author and once-upon-a-time editor of books for teenagers, I puzzled over the decision.

• When teaching young adult fiction to creative writing and publishing classes, I often ask Dr Lili Wilkinson’s four powerful plotting questions: What does your character want?
• In this novel, there is nothing Andrew alone can do to break the cycle of intergenerational trauma.
• The only answer posed to the question, “What does Andrew need to do?” is: light fires.
• Andrew lights fires which destroy, but Andrew’s fires also offer regeneration and renewal.

‘Who’s your mob?’

• In Tasmania, Sarah and Andrew try and fail to imagine new futures for themselves, to generate a fantasy of who they might be.
• New love interest, Tess, makes clumsy attempts to connect with Andrew, and he in turn tries hard not hurt her.
• This question cuts to the heart of what it means to belong: to family, to Country, to culture and to your own story.

Penni Russon does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.