Beautifully crafted, Tara June Winch’s second novel (her much acclaimed debut, Swallow the Air, was published nearly 15 years ago in 2006) is a powerful story of language, culture and a people (the Wiradjuri of central New South Wales).
Ten years in the UK in self-exile, August Gondiwindi returns to Prosperous, a former mission that became the family home, on learning of her beloved grandfather’s death. Memories of childhood, missing sister Jedda, absent (locked up) parents and the now dead Albert ‘Poppy’ Gondiwindi clash with a present day: the 99 year lease on the property has run out and the land has been sold to a mining company.
In helping her grandmother pack and reconnecting with Family, August discovers Poppy has been writing a book. But it’s the story not just of his life spent on the banks of the Murrumby River at Prosperous House on Massacre Plains. So, because they say it is urgent, because I’ve got the church time against me – I’m taking pen to paper to pass on everything that was ever remembered. All the words I found on the wind. Poppy is looking to pass on the language of his people. It is through a series of dictionary-like entries that we hear snippets of the history of the local Wiradjuri clans:
yarran tree, spearwood tree, or hickory acacia – yarrany The dictionary is not just words – there are little stories in those pages too. After years with the second great book I figured out the best way to read it. First time, I went in like reading the Bible, front to back. Aa words first … You could keep reading the dictionary that way – front to back, straight as a dart – or you can get to aardvark and then skip to Africa, then skip to continent, then skip to nations, then skip to colonialism, then skip over to empire, then skip back to apartheid in the A section – that happened in South Africa.
Another story. When I was on the letter W in the Oxford English Dictionary, wiray would be in that section, it means ‘no’. Wiray wasn’t there though, but I thought I’d make it there. Wheat was there, but when I skipped ahead not our word for wheat – not yura. So I thought I’d make my own list of words. We don’t have a Z word in our alphabet, I reckon, so I thought I’d start backwards, a nod to the backwards whitefella world I grew up in, start at Y – yarrany. So that is the once upon a time for you. Say it – yarrany, it is our word for spearwood tree: and from it I once made a spear in order to kill a man.
Interspersed with the present day where August looks to make amends for the time apart from her Country and help save their land and Poppy’s recollections is a third voice – that of Reverend Ferdinand Greenleaf. As a (German Lutheran) outsider himself, the Reverend Grunblatt writes a first-person account of the appalling treatment of the indigenous population by white settlers. Displaced, murdered and forced into slave labour, a traumatised people were lost, abused. It was Greenleaf who established Prosperous Mission to provide safety, education – and a good smattering of Christianity. But as he writes more (it’s 1915, he is now interned himself: with Britain at war with Germany, he is classified as an enemy), it’s apparent that the Reverend is torn. He questions (white) power leading to questions of faith and belief. Promised financial and practical support for the Mission never materialised – but the local townspeople continued with their abuse. The longer Greenleaf spent at the Mission, the more he grew to respect the culture and traditions of the Wiradjuri.
The three voices come together as a story of a culture dispossessed, a people displaced, a voice silenced. Interestingly, the somewhat breathless contemporary element of the narrative is its weakest link – an all-too-predictable unfolding of a plot that, extraordinarily, mirrors Melissa Lucashenko’s 2019 Miles Franklin Award winner, Too Much Lip (but without the humour). There are so many similarities that, having read both, I started to feel uncomfortable.
But there’s no denying the power and beauty of The Yield and, having collected three awards at the 2020 NSW Premier’s Awards (Fiction; Audience Award; Book of the Year), Tara June Winch was awarded the year’s Miles Franklin Award.