QUESTION 7

The noted Australian author spirals through personal and collective history searching for connections between past and present, but often distrusting those that appear.

Flanagan, author of The Narrow Road to the Deep North, finds the struggle to create a credible memoir troubling, since most autobiographical work must be constructed from “the lies we call time, history, reality, detail, facts.” In this distinctly nonlinear example of the form, the author pulls at threads connected to key, often traumatic events. One of these nodes is the years his father spent in a Japanese internment camp during World War II. Flanagan notes that he almost certainly would have died of starvation were it not for the atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima, leaving the author conflicted about the devastating loss suffered in Japan combined with the fact that he would never have existed without the catastrophe. He reaches back to tie the bomb to the life and work of H.G. Wells, who first conceived it in one of his lesser-known novels, and to Hungarian physicist Leo Szilard, who was captivated by Wells' novels and who first conceived of the idea of a nuclear chain reaction. Another node is Flanagan’s shards of memory of his parents, including his mother's last words before her death at 95: “Thank you all for coming. I have had a lovely time.” A third key element of this fascinating work is Flanagan's prolonged near-death by drowning as a river guide when he was 21, to which he refers frequently throughout the book—and then at horrifying length in the final section. “Everything ever since,” he writes, “has been an astonishing dream….Perhaps this is a ghost story and the ghost me.”

A haunting, jagged, sparkling narrative puzzle in which the pieces deliberately refuse to fit.