Saturday, 6 January 2018

The 58th review 51th BOOK "Small Indiscretions"

This book is very good, this book has an amazing story that can interest the reader. And I have read this book more than once. You should read this book! By Rifaldi Fauzan




Many of the stories in Australian writer Felicity Castagna’s first collection, Small Indiscretions, occupy a tantalising space, one imagines, between fantasy and autobiography. In almost every case the protagonist is, like Castagna herself, a slight and quiet young woman. In all cases she is wandering through Asia, white and normally alone, variously hitched to men who likewise find themselves at odds with their current landscape.
The renaissance of the short story as a popular literary form is producing a great deal of very interesting work, and it’s also providing young writers with a much more accessible platform from which to launch their talents. Castagna’s own talent emerges in this tantalising book, slowly but quite markedly, rising up by the fifth story, ‘Learning Indonesian’, and striking the reader with a subtle despair and a palpable anxiety about the way a white Australian engages with her Asian neighbours.
Each story in the collection is set in a different Asian country, and the reader is normally plunged immediately into the torment and psychological drama of that story’s heroine. In the collection’s eponymous story, for example, an elderly Australian woman and her husband feel forced by the cultural restrictions of Brunei to behave badly and childishly, and in the story ‘Transition’ a feckless young teacher escapes to Hong Kong only to meet one of her old students, who manages to seduce her in an offhand and mysterious fashion.
Part of the pleasure, of course, in reading such a book is that almost every writer has, at some inspired point along an extended journey, decided that they too are capable of producing just such a wonderfully Maugham-esque collection. And part of Castagna’s cleverness is in acknowledging this writerly envy, placing her heroines at cafes in Vietnam or Laos where they write stories and tell lies about themselves, making the decision to fictionalise their encounters rather than simply record the facts in a journal.

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