Here is what I had to say about Black Dust Dancing: Ambivalence and loss.
Here is what Pavlov’s Cat had to say: In which Third Cat’s book is launched.
Here is what the Blogger on the Cast Iron Balcony had to say: Writing from the right side of the brain.
And here is what The Advertiser had to say:
In an industrial town in South Australia, Crisp unravels the tale of a mother, Heidi, trying to work out what’s wrong with her son, Zac. Meanwhile, the locals go to the hairdresser, to the local park, and work hard for a bit of happiness. The stories of the townsfolk interweave to create the feeling of a real community, but the heard of the story is this mother whose son’s blood is full of lead from nearby industry. Occasionally, the characters seem to represent ideas more than three-dimensional people, but despite this, Crisp has created a work that captures an important and true story about industry’s power over Australia’s small towns.
SA Weekend – 2 May 2009 (not on-line)
One of these things is not like the others.
To be fair to The Advertiser’s reviewer, it’s hard to do justice to a complex book in just 100 or so words. Nevertheless, it seems odd to miss Tracy’s trademark ambiguity, and economy, and her focus on relationships. And very odd indeed to miss the ambiguity about where the black dust comes from. And even more odd to miss the importance of the women, and the relationships between women, and the complexities of their ordinary, everyday lives. And even even odder odder to think that the story is about industrial power.
Maybe the reviewer mistook it for a thriller.