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The Ripping Tree
GET OUT. BEFORE THEY SAVE YOU.
Early 1800s. Thomasina Trelora is on her way to the colonies. Her fate: to be married to a clergyman she's never met. As the Australian coastline comes into view a storm wrecks the ship and leaves her lying on the rocks, near death. She's saved by an Aboriginal man who carries her to the door of a grand European house, Willowbrae.
Tom is now free to be whoever she wants to be and a whole new life opens up to her. But as she's drawn deeper into the intriguing life of this grand estate, she discovers that things aren't quite as they seem. She stumbles across a horrifying secret at the heart of this world of colonial decorum � and realises she may have exchanged one kind of prison for another.
The Ripping Tree is an intense, sharp shiver of a novel, which brings to mind such diverse influences as The Turn of the Screw, Rebecca and the film Get Out as much as it evokes The Secret River. A powerful and gripping tale of survival written in Nikki Gemmell's signature lyrical and evocative prose, it examines the darkness at the heart of early colonisation. Unsettling, audacious, thrilling and unputdownable.
Early 1800s. Thomasina Trelora is on her way to the colonies. Her fate: to be married to a clergyman she's never met. As the Australian coastline comes into view a storm wrecks the ship and leaves her lying on the rocks, near death. She's saved by an Aboriginal man who carries her to the door of a grand European house, Willowbrae.
Tom is now free to be whoever she wants to be and a whole new life opens up to her. But as she's drawn deeper into the intriguing life of this grand estate, she discovers that things aren't quite as they seem. She stumbles across a horrifying secret at the heart of this world of colonial decorum � and realises she may have exchanged one kind of prison for another.
The Ripping Tree is an intense, sharp shiver of a novel, which brings to mind such diverse influences as The Turn of the Screw, Rebecca and the film Get Out as much as it evokes The Secret River. A powerful and gripping tale of survival written in Nikki Gemmell's signature lyrical and evocative prose, it examines the darkness at the heart of early colonisation. Unsettling, audacious, thrilling and unputdownable.
352 pages, Paperback
First published April 1, 2021
57 people are currently reading
607 people want to read
About the author
Nikki Gemmell
33Ìýbooks296ÌýfollowersNikki Gemmell has written four novels, Shiver, Cleave, Lovesong, The Bride Stripped Bare and The Book Of Rapture, and one non-fiction book, Pleasure: An Almanac for the Heart. Her work has been internationally critically acclaimed and translated into many languages.
In France she's been described as a female Jack Kerouac, in Australia as one of the most original and engaging authors of her generation and in the US as one of the few truly original voices to emerge in a long time.
The French literary review "Lire" has included her in a list of what it calls the fifty most important writers in the world - the ones it believes will have a significant influence on the literature of the 21st century. The criteria for selection included a very individual voice and unmistakeable style, as well as an original choice of subject. Nikki Gemmell was selected along with such novelists as Rick Moody, Zadie Smith, Jonathan Safran Froer, Rohinton Mistry, Tim Winton, Colum McCann, Michel Faber and Hari Kunzru among others.
Born in Wollongong, Australia, she now lives in London.
In France she's been described as a female Jack Kerouac, in Australia as one of the most original and engaging authors of her generation and in the US as one of the few truly original voices to emerge in a long time.
The French literary review "Lire" has included her in a list of what it calls the fifty most important writers in the world - the ones it believes will have a significant influence on the literature of the 21st century. The criteria for selection included a very individual voice and unmistakeable style, as well as an original choice of subject. Nikki Gemmell was selected along with such novelists as Rick Moody, Zadie Smith, Jonathan Safran Froer, Rohinton Mistry, Tim Winton, Colum McCann, Michel Faber and Hari Kunzru among others.
Born in Wollongong, Australia, she now lives in London.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 117 reviews
March 30, 2021
In the early nineteenth century, motherless teenager, Thomasina Trelora (who calls herself Tom) is being taken by her brother to Australia after the death of her father. Once there he plans to marry her off, against her wishes, to a clergyman. When they are shipwrecked in a storm off the Australian coast she is the only survivor and after being rescued is left on the doorstep of Willowbrae, a grand European style mansion owned by the Craws, a wealthy farming family. Mrs Craw, mother of three sons, is delighted to have a young girl in the house, after her own daughter died of snake bite at the age of three, and when Tom feigns amnesia, suggests she could stay with them to be a governess to her youngest son, who answers to the name of Mouse.
Allowed to run free by her father, Tom (now nicknamed Poss by Mouse) is a wild child who speaks her mind and loves the outdoors. She has trouble conforming to the Craws expectations of her and prefers to explore with Mouse. However, when they make a tragic discovery, she discovers that all is not as it seems at Willowbrae and sets in train a series of events that threatens her freedom.
Nikki Gemmell’s historical novel of the early settlement of Australia delves into a dark time in colonial history and the devastating treatment and disregard for its first nations people. It also highlights the treatment of women who don’t conform to the conservative conventions of the time and the ease with which they could be labelled as mentally ill and treated as hysterical just for speaking their minds. Written in a lively style with short, snappy chapters this is an engaging tale of a strong minded young women caught up in a horrifying secret.
With thanks to Harper Collins Au and Netgalley for a copy to read
Allowed to run free by her father, Tom (now nicknamed Poss by Mouse) is a wild child who speaks her mind and loves the outdoors. She has trouble conforming to the Craws expectations of her and prefers to explore with Mouse. However, when they make a tragic discovery, she discovers that all is not as it seems at Willowbrae and sets in train a series of events that threatens her freedom.
Nikki Gemmell’s historical novel of the early settlement of Australia delves into a dark time in colonial history and the devastating treatment and disregard for its first nations people. It also highlights the treatment of women who don’t conform to the conservative conventions of the time and the ease with which they could be labelled as mentally ill and treated as hysterical just for speaking their minds. Written in a lively style with short, snappy chapters this is an engaging tale of a strong minded young women caught up in a horrifying secret.
With thanks to Harper Collins Au and Netgalley for a copy to read
May 8, 2021
An impressive historical fiction set in colonial Australia. The story is framed by a grandmother reading from some papers to her grandchildren, the story of a house called Willowbrae and what happened to her there when she first arrived. She was the only survivor from a shipwreck and an aboriginal man rescues her and carries her to the big house, where the Craw family lives. The youngest son known as Mouse names her Poss. She doesn’t reveal her real name as she was supposed to be married to a vicar, so she keeps silent to see if she can change her life.
It then ventures into the dark history of early white settlement and the author doesn’t shy away from the horrific aspects.
The chapters are mostly short and there’s a lot of atmosphere, almost gothic. It takes place over seven days and the story is unsettling, in parts shocking. Indigenous issues aren’t the only theme here, the treatment of women especially diagnosis of hysteria as a form of control in society is also touched on. The characters are all a bit over the top, I think they’re deliberately exaggerated to create the atmosphere and it mostly works. But for me there was something missing, even though I couldn’t look away. Perhaps it lacked heart...I didn’t really feel close to Poss, and the Craw family are all awful, Mouse excepted, though he is traumatised.
So this is a strange read, interesting, thought provoking and dark.
It then ventures into the dark history of early white settlement and the author doesn’t shy away from the horrific aspects.
The chapters are mostly short and there’s a lot of atmosphere, almost gothic. It takes place over seven days and the story is unsettling, in parts shocking. Indigenous issues aren’t the only theme here, the treatment of women especially diagnosis of hysteria as a form of control in society is also touched on. The characters are all a bit over the top, I think they’re deliberately exaggerated to create the atmosphere and it mostly works. But for me there was something missing, even though I couldn’t look away. Perhaps it lacked heart...I didn’t really feel close to Poss, and the Craw family are all awful, Mouse excepted, though he is traumatised.
So this is a strange read, interesting, thought provoking and dark.
August 7, 2021
is a troubling but thought-provoking story, colonial Australian gothic, told in author 's characteristic style - short chapters, unflinching observation and unusual cadence.
The book opens with a family returning from a day trip to a colonial mansion, Willowbrae, renowned for its grand crenelated architecture and manicured gardens. Their elderly grandmother, who chose not to attend the excursion for reasons of her own, then reads to them from a sheaf of handwritten pages "...a terrible tale, full of pain and anguish and trauma. It's a ghost story, a haunting, or perhaps a horror story - you be the judge." (p.2). Her narrative forms the substance of the book.
Following her beloved father's death, teenaged Thomasina "Tom" Trelora is torn away from her life in Dorset, England, by her imperious older brother, Ambrose. Against her wishes, the free-spirited Tom sets out by sea with Ambrose and his wife to the expanding colony of New South Wales, where he owns land. She's to be married off to a colonial vicar, a man she's never met. They've almost reached their destination when an all-too-common tragedy strikes - their ship, the Finbar is wrecked, and Tom - who, unusually for a woman in the early 19th century, can swim - is the only survivor.
Tom is mysteriously rescued from the shallows and carried by a dark-skinned man to the nearby Willowbrae homestead, where he leaves her on the threshold, tenderly wrapped in soft bark torn from a nearby paperbark tree (Melaleuca quinquenervia). Shocked and delirious after her ordeal, she's discovered by the Craw family, who own Willowbrae and the surrounding farming land. At first she's welcomed for her convalescence, especially by Mrs. Craw, who yearns for female company and a substitute daughter, since her own died in childhood. The youngest child, a lonely little boy known as "Mouse", quickly claims her as his own and proclaims her to be a mermaid. Seeing an opportunity to escape her fate as a vicar's wife, Tom feigns amnesia as to her identity and antecedents, and is christened "Poss" by Mouse, an identity she carries for the remainder of the narrative.
As Poss's strength and natural curiosity return, she begins to explore Willowbrae and the surrounding bush with Mouse, becoming aware of jarring attitudes held by the family towards the local indigenous population. A shocking discovery in one of Mouse's favourite secret haunts leads Poss to speak up and seek answers - inevitably creating trouble for her in the conservative Craw household. As Poss stands by the convictions she's learned from her father - principles of truth, justice and fairness for all - her position becomes increasingly dangerous on the isolated property.
explores themes of female self-determination and subjugation, historical prejudice and xenophobia, collusion and isolation in this gothic tale. Tom/Poss is a beguiling and fascinating character, her self-assurance and outspokenness an anathema to the staid and oppressive household in which she finds herself. The ordered claustrophobia of Willowbrae presents a stark contrast to the wild beauty of the surrounding landscape, though both hold many dangers for Poss as an intruder. The eponymous "ripping tree" embodies an ever-present metaphor, both for Poss's search for truth and for the covering-up of injustices by the colonisers.
I found a fascinating, if troubling, read, and Poss an engaging character. However, I was left feeling short-changed by the rather abrupt ending to the book. Realistically, I wasn't expecting all the wrongs to be admitted and atoned for - the range of injustices inflicted on the indigenous population sadly remains a issue in modern-day Australia. But I desperately wanted to know more about the resolution of Poss's story and to what extent was she able to reconcile her experiences at Willowbrae and thereafter. I also found the dialogue anachronistic at times and felt some of Poss's behaviour really stretched credulity, even allowing for her unorthodox upbringing.
I'd recommend to readers who are prepared for a grittier depiction of Australian colonial history than may be found in many of the more romanticised alternatives available on the market. The book will also be of interest to readers who seek unique female perspectives in historical fiction.
My thanks to the author, , publisher Harper Collins Australia and Netgalley for the opportunity to read and review this title.
The book opens with a family returning from a day trip to a colonial mansion, Willowbrae, renowned for its grand crenelated architecture and manicured gardens. Their elderly grandmother, who chose not to attend the excursion for reasons of her own, then reads to them from a sheaf of handwritten pages "...a terrible tale, full of pain and anguish and trauma. It's a ghost story, a haunting, or perhaps a horror story - you be the judge." (p.2). Her narrative forms the substance of the book.
Following her beloved father's death, teenaged Thomasina "Tom" Trelora is torn away from her life in Dorset, England, by her imperious older brother, Ambrose. Against her wishes, the free-spirited Tom sets out by sea with Ambrose and his wife to the expanding colony of New South Wales, where he owns land. She's to be married off to a colonial vicar, a man she's never met. They've almost reached their destination when an all-too-common tragedy strikes - their ship, the Finbar is wrecked, and Tom - who, unusually for a woman in the early 19th century, can swim - is the only survivor.
Tom is mysteriously rescued from the shallows and carried by a dark-skinned man to the nearby Willowbrae homestead, where he leaves her on the threshold, tenderly wrapped in soft bark torn from a nearby paperbark tree (Melaleuca quinquenervia). Shocked and delirious after her ordeal, she's discovered by the Craw family, who own Willowbrae and the surrounding farming land. At first she's welcomed for her convalescence, especially by Mrs. Craw, who yearns for female company and a substitute daughter, since her own died in childhood. The youngest child, a lonely little boy known as "Mouse", quickly claims her as his own and proclaims her to be a mermaid. Seeing an opportunity to escape her fate as a vicar's wife, Tom feigns amnesia as to her identity and antecedents, and is christened "Poss" by Mouse, an identity she carries for the remainder of the narrative.
As Poss's strength and natural curiosity return, she begins to explore Willowbrae and the surrounding bush with Mouse, becoming aware of jarring attitudes held by the family towards the local indigenous population. A shocking discovery in one of Mouse's favourite secret haunts leads Poss to speak up and seek answers - inevitably creating trouble for her in the conservative Craw household. As Poss stands by the convictions she's learned from her father - principles of truth, justice and fairness for all - her position becomes increasingly dangerous on the isolated property.
explores themes of female self-determination and subjugation, historical prejudice and xenophobia, collusion and isolation in this gothic tale. Tom/Poss is a beguiling and fascinating character, her self-assurance and outspokenness an anathema to the staid and oppressive household in which she finds herself. The ordered claustrophobia of Willowbrae presents a stark contrast to the wild beauty of the surrounding landscape, though both hold many dangers for Poss as an intruder. The eponymous "ripping tree" embodies an ever-present metaphor, both for Poss's search for truth and for the covering-up of injustices by the colonisers.
I found a fascinating, if troubling, read, and Poss an engaging character. However, I was left feeling short-changed by the rather abrupt ending to the book. Realistically, I wasn't expecting all the wrongs to be admitted and atoned for - the range of injustices inflicted on the indigenous population sadly remains a issue in modern-day Australia. But I desperately wanted to know more about the resolution of Poss's story and to what extent was she able to reconcile her experiences at Willowbrae and thereafter. I also found the dialogue anachronistic at times and felt some of Poss's behaviour really stretched credulity, even allowing for her unorthodox upbringing.
I'd recommend to readers who are prepared for a grittier depiction of Australian colonial history than may be found in many of the more romanticised alternatives available on the market. The book will also be of interest to readers who seek unique female perspectives in historical fiction.
My thanks to the author, , publisher Harper Collins Australia and Netgalley for the opportunity to read and review this title.
June 28, 2021
3.5�, rounded up.
Nikki Gemmell turns her hand to historical fiction and shines a light on some of the most disturbing aspects of colonial Australian history. I thought it was a success, and I largely enjoyed (appreciated) it, but all the way through I kept returning to the same question. Who was this written for? I'm still not sure.
It's the early 1800s and a shipwreck off the coast sees 16yo Thomasina Trelora, half-drowned, cut and bruised, rescued by an indigenous man and delivered to the doorstep of Willowbrae, a European oasis in the remote Australian bush. The man rips strips of soft bark from a tall tree to cover her and preserve her dignity, and leaves her to be discovered by the resident Craw family. When Tom wakes, the first person she meets is young Mouse Craw, a 7yo boy who is desperate for a real friend. The two hit it off, but still Tom is wary so she chooses to conceal her identity and Mouse gives her a new name, Poss. As Poss becomes acquainted with the remaining family members, she is met with degrees of suspicion, indifference and outright hostility. Mouse seems to be her only reliable ally, but when the two go exploring and stumble across a tragic scene, even Mouse might turn on her when she insists on doing 'the right thing'.
The story takes place during the course of a week, so naturally it flies along at a good pace. A lot happens, alliances are formed and broken, and the dark, secret past of Willowbrae is uncovered. Poss is a wonderful character - smart and wilful and resourceful. And these are the very qualities that certain members of the Craw family want to stamp out. Gaslighting existed long before we had a recognisable name for it, and although very realistic for the era, in this story it made me feel very uncomfortable. That's probably why the second half of the book began to drag a little for me - I kept setting it down because I didn't like Poss's lack of agency. But I acknowledge it takes a good writer to make the reader feel that way, and here Gemmell is at her best. In some ways the literary feel of the book softens, but in other ways emphasises, the despicable attitudes to and treatment of the indigenous people of the area at that time, and I must warn that some readers may find certain passages extremely distressing in that regard. Apart from the darkness, there's also a lot of light and humour and even a gothic touch or two.
As to my question of audience - Poss/Tom is still a child, but one old enough to have the beginnings of erotic thoughts and urges. One moment she is happily playing with Mouse, the next she is taking a bit of a tumble with his older brother. She seems wordly, but with no history or reason to be that way. I think there's not enough to interest a YA audience, and yet she seems too young to carry off an adult fiction label. This book put me in mind of by , which I also enjoyed but found equally puzzling. I'm happy to recommend The Ripping Tree, but I'm not sure to whom I would recommend it!
With thanks to NetGalley and HarperCollins Australia for an eARC to read and review.
Nikki Gemmell turns her hand to historical fiction and shines a light on some of the most disturbing aspects of colonial Australian history. I thought it was a success, and I largely enjoyed (appreciated) it, but all the way through I kept returning to the same question. Who was this written for? I'm still not sure.
It's the early 1800s and a shipwreck off the coast sees 16yo Thomasina Trelora, half-drowned, cut and bruised, rescued by an indigenous man and delivered to the doorstep of Willowbrae, a European oasis in the remote Australian bush. The man rips strips of soft bark from a tall tree to cover her and preserve her dignity, and leaves her to be discovered by the resident Craw family. When Tom wakes, the first person she meets is young Mouse Craw, a 7yo boy who is desperate for a real friend. The two hit it off, but still Tom is wary so she chooses to conceal her identity and Mouse gives her a new name, Poss. As Poss becomes acquainted with the remaining family members, she is met with degrees of suspicion, indifference and outright hostility. Mouse seems to be her only reliable ally, but when the two go exploring and stumble across a tragic scene, even Mouse might turn on her when she insists on doing 'the right thing'.
The story takes place during the course of a week, so naturally it flies along at a good pace. A lot happens, alliances are formed and broken, and the dark, secret past of Willowbrae is uncovered. Poss is a wonderful character - smart and wilful and resourceful. And these are the very qualities that certain members of the Craw family want to stamp out. Gaslighting existed long before we had a recognisable name for it, and although very realistic for the era, in this story it made me feel very uncomfortable. That's probably why the second half of the book began to drag a little for me - I kept setting it down because I didn't like Poss's lack of agency. But I acknowledge it takes a good writer to make the reader feel that way, and here Gemmell is at her best. In some ways the literary feel of the book softens, but in other ways emphasises, the despicable attitudes to and treatment of the indigenous people of the area at that time, and I must warn that some readers may find certain passages extremely distressing in that regard. Apart from the darkness, there's also a lot of light and humour and even a gothic touch or two.
As to my question of audience - Poss/Tom is still a child, but one old enough to have the beginnings of erotic thoughts and urges. One moment she is happily playing with Mouse, the next she is taking a bit of a tumble with his older brother. She seems wordly, but with no history or reason to be that way. I think there's not enough to interest a YA audience, and yet she seems too young to carry off an adult fiction label. This book put me in mind of by , which I also enjoyed but found equally puzzling. I'm happy to recommend The Ripping Tree, but I'm not sure to whom I would recommend it!
With thanks to NetGalley and HarperCollins Australia for an eARC to read and review.
September 24, 2021
Thomasina Trelora leaves Knockleby in Dorset, and her half-brother Ambrose has organized for her to marry a vicar in the new colony of Australia. She’s aboard the Finbar, when they sight the coast of Australia, a terrible storm hits and the ship’s scuttled on the rocks. Thomasina almost drowns, her memory of what happened is rather distorted, and she thinks she was saved from drowning by a man with a black face?
When she wakes up, she’s staying with the Craw family and at their estate Willowbrae. Tom realizes she’s been freed from marrying a complete stranger, she pretends she has amnesia and goes by the name Poss. The Craw’s have three sons, Tobyn, Virgil and young Mouse and Mrs Craw has always wanted a daughter to replace the one she lost. Soon, Poss notices that there’s something very odd going on at Willowbrae, the whole Craw family is rather different, and she witnesses a couple of very disturbing events and discovers a shocking secret.
The Ripping Tree is a story about Colonial Australia, how the native Aboriginal people were treated terribly by the white settlers and they had no regard for the way they lived and their traditions. Also, women who didn’t conform at the time, were quickly labelled as hysterical and sent to an asylum. Thanks to NetGalley and HarperCollins Publishers Australia for my copy, it’s an eerie and haunting story and four stars from me.
When she wakes up, she’s staying with the Craw family and at their estate Willowbrae. Tom realizes she’s been freed from marrying a complete stranger, she pretends she has amnesia and goes by the name Poss. The Craw’s have three sons, Tobyn, Virgil and young Mouse and Mrs Craw has always wanted a daughter to replace the one she lost. Soon, Poss notices that there’s something very odd going on at Willowbrae, the whole Craw family is rather different, and she witnesses a couple of very disturbing events and discovers a shocking secret.
The Ripping Tree is a story about Colonial Australia, how the native Aboriginal people were treated terribly by the white settlers and they had no regard for the way they lived and their traditions. Also, women who didn’t conform at the time, were quickly labelled as hysterical and sent to an asylum. Thanks to NetGalley and HarperCollins Publishers Australia for my copy, it’s an eerie and haunting story and four stars from me.
May 19, 2021
The Ripping Tree is based on an interesting premise with lots of potential for examining an alternative view of Australian history. It was spoilt for me by the over-blown descriptive writing, repetition and anachronistic use of language. Finally I no longer cared about any of the characters and skimmed to the end.
August 3, 2021
I really struggled to even finish this book. I found it somewhat inauthentic - so many things just didn’t ring true for me.
For me it was too flowery in description - like the author was trying to hard. There were too many similes and metaphors that didn’t compliment each other - basically just over blown descriptive language.
I didn’t care about any of the characters - they are all strange and basically unlikeable. I personally really struggle if I can’t like at least one character in a book!
I read another review where they said it read like the protagonist was a time traveler from modern day, and older, like 40 not 16. I would totally agree with this.
While the premise of the story was OK, the writing was painful to read and the storyline repetitive which made reading it a chore. I would not have persisted beyond about 30% except it was for Book Club.
To top it all off, it was a disappointing ending as well. Sorry, I just couldn’t take anything positive out of it with the possible exception of highlighting atrocities of the past � though I’m not even sure I think this was adequately or realistically dealt with.
For me it was too flowery in description - like the author was trying to hard. There were too many similes and metaphors that didn’t compliment each other - basically just over blown descriptive language.
I didn’t care about any of the characters - they are all strange and basically unlikeable. I personally really struggle if I can’t like at least one character in a book!
I read another review where they said it read like the protagonist was a time traveler from modern day, and older, like 40 not 16. I would totally agree with this.
While the premise of the story was OK, the writing was painful to read and the storyline repetitive which made reading it a chore. I would not have persisted beyond about 30% except it was for Book Club.
To top it all off, it was a disappointing ending as well. Sorry, I just couldn’t take anything positive out of it with the possible exception of highlighting atrocities of the past � though I’m not even sure I think this was adequately or realistically dealt with.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
March 26, 2021
2.5 stars really, as I found this novel to be fine but nothing spectacular. Set in the 1800’s, the ship Thomasina is traveling to Australia on, to be wedded to a vicar she has never met, sinks, and she is returned to health at the Willowbrae estate by the Craws. But although initially seen as a good chance to tread a new path and escape her arranged marriage, Tom quickly discovers there is more to the Craws and their estate than she originally thought.
Although well written in parts, in others I felt the story was growing repetitive and as readers we were going in circles, and so it wasn’t the page turner I’d hoped it would be. Still, not a bad read.
Although well written in parts, in others I felt the story was growing repetitive and as readers we were going in circles, and so it wasn’t the page turner I’d hoped it would be. Still, not a bad read.
July 30, 2021
An interesting story, but repetitive - it needed to be more tightly reined in and edited. And some inconsistencies that were frustrating. A protagonist that is somewhat unbelievable, like a 2021 woman time travelling back, casting judgement and speaking like she’s 40. In fact, it might’ve been an improvement if like Outlander, she was! It also has a whiff of white saviour complex about it. I used to love Nikki Gemmell’s writing 20 years ago, now I find it a bit overblown and pretentious. The one good thing about this book is that it is unafraid to show aspects of Australia’s dark history that we still struggle to confront.
April 24, 2021
I’ve always felt that reading a Nikki Gemmell novel was like sinking into a big, cushiony bed. Even more than that � a bed with velvet canopy curtains and three more pillows than necessary. Clearly I am not as adept at vivid world building as this accomplished author, but hopefully you get my drift. Every sentence is captivating. Why use one adjective when several possible descriptions are there for the picking? Open the book. Jump in. Sink down into its layers until it envelopes you. The crush of it.
But while I can happily meander through Gemmell’s rich landscapes for long hours, the complex writing sometimes distracts me from her stories. It can take too long to get to the point, or to make a heartfelt connection with characters. Not this time. I fell for The Ripping Tree’s feisty lead, Poss, from the opening lines and ripped through the novel in a day. Fast paced and intriguing, with dynamic, well-crafted protagonists, this is a really satisfying read. It is one part historical horror story, and one part very contemporary reflection on Australia’s national reckoning with its colonial past.
The novel opens with a grandmother promising a thrilling tale of derring-do to some eager young ‘uns. She introduces them to a long hidden book � the tale of Poss, a British girl experiencing a cultural epiphany in colonial Australia. Her real name, Thomasina, is one of many secrets she keeps when she finds herself the sole survivor of a shipwreck. She wakes up in the care of the God-fearing and well-respected Craw family, and their imposing estate, Willowbrae. This grandmother, with her ‘mottled and papery hands� alludes to a close knowledge of this Poss and her tale, and a story within a story unfolds.
Recently orphaned, the too-loud, too-wild, 16 year old ‘Tom� has been sent to Australia by her brother as a promised bride for the local vicar. Powerless and penniless in this patriarchal society, she has boarded the ship, but always with thoughts of transgression brewing. The shipwreck takes Tom’s whole former life with it � her brother, her clothing, a friend (lover?) she has met on the ship. While this is a tragedy, she realises it might also bring a fortuitous reimagining of her future. She quickly finds a job as a governess for the charming 7 year old son of the Craws, Mouse. As long as she keeps her true identity a secret, and doesn’t cross paths with the vicar, perhaps she can start again? A new, free life without all those men shaping her in their desired image?
But Gemmell knows, as we do, that such fortuitous journeys for women in the colonies were the stuff of storybooks only. The truth was one of hardship, discipline, repression, subservience. It does not take long for Poss to realise that outspoken young women will find no friends at Willowbrae. The threat of being taken to the local asylum for ‘hysterical� women is ever present if Poss does not learn the expected rules of etiquette and obedience.
Versions of this feminist plotline have been written before, but Gemmell brings a freshness to it through Poss and Mouse’s delightful relationship and the nuanced characters that make up the rest of the household. But where The Ripping Tree really sings is when examining Australia’s black history.
Poss was rescued from the shipwreck by a ‘native� who deposited her at the Craw home. Over time, Mouse also lets on that he has been playing with Aboriginal children on the property and, when the first of the novel’s horrors strikes, it is an Aboriginal mother and baby who suffer. But as Poss seeks to learn more about the local inhabitants, the Craw family closes ranks. They deny any wrongdoing towards the ‘natives�. They deny, in fact, the existence of Aboriginal people on their estate. Poss realises that her inquisitive mind may have uncovered, and perhaps even unleashed, unimaginable horrors. Mr Craw has made a promise to his wife to eradicate ‘them� � these semi-humans, these pests. Poss is outraged.
But Poss has much to learn. The Craws remind her that she is a newcomer, and there are certain things that must be accepted. It’s just the way of things. But as Poss questions and argues against this bizarre and unjust logic, the reader, too, questions and argues. Poss� position as an outsider is her advantage. She manoeuvres her moral compass and measures her responses against those of people she admires, like her humanitarian father. She expresses her deep grief and horror at the subjugation and exploitation of the local people � even when she must also fight to protect herself, and Mouse, from the wrath of her oppressors. Deep themes of justice, fairness, and taking a knife to the status quo are the undercurrents of this tale.
Neither feminist activism nor racial equality are new topics in fiction, and yet here we are in 2021 STILL fighting. Poss� wide eyed curiosity takes these enormous, horrendous concerns and distils them down to some relatively simple points � these behaviours are illogical and unfair. How did our ancestors ever think they made sense? This book deftly shows us why we need to keep telling these stories, asking these questions, again and again and again, to make progress.
With thanks to NetGalley and Harper Collins Publishers AU for my copy. All opinions are my own.
But while I can happily meander through Gemmell’s rich landscapes for long hours, the complex writing sometimes distracts me from her stories. It can take too long to get to the point, or to make a heartfelt connection with characters. Not this time. I fell for The Ripping Tree’s feisty lead, Poss, from the opening lines and ripped through the novel in a day. Fast paced and intriguing, with dynamic, well-crafted protagonists, this is a really satisfying read. It is one part historical horror story, and one part very contemporary reflection on Australia’s national reckoning with its colonial past.
The novel opens with a grandmother promising a thrilling tale of derring-do to some eager young ‘uns. She introduces them to a long hidden book � the tale of Poss, a British girl experiencing a cultural epiphany in colonial Australia. Her real name, Thomasina, is one of many secrets she keeps when she finds herself the sole survivor of a shipwreck. She wakes up in the care of the God-fearing and well-respected Craw family, and their imposing estate, Willowbrae. This grandmother, with her ‘mottled and papery hands� alludes to a close knowledge of this Poss and her tale, and a story within a story unfolds.
Recently orphaned, the too-loud, too-wild, 16 year old ‘Tom� has been sent to Australia by her brother as a promised bride for the local vicar. Powerless and penniless in this patriarchal society, she has boarded the ship, but always with thoughts of transgression brewing. The shipwreck takes Tom’s whole former life with it � her brother, her clothing, a friend (lover?) she has met on the ship. While this is a tragedy, she realises it might also bring a fortuitous reimagining of her future. She quickly finds a job as a governess for the charming 7 year old son of the Craws, Mouse. As long as she keeps her true identity a secret, and doesn’t cross paths with the vicar, perhaps she can start again? A new, free life without all those men shaping her in their desired image?
But Gemmell knows, as we do, that such fortuitous journeys for women in the colonies were the stuff of storybooks only. The truth was one of hardship, discipline, repression, subservience. It does not take long for Poss to realise that outspoken young women will find no friends at Willowbrae. The threat of being taken to the local asylum for ‘hysterical� women is ever present if Poss does not learn the expected rules of etiquette and obedience.
Versions of this feminist plotline have been written before, but Gemmell brings a freshness to it through Poss and Mouse’s delightful relationship and the nuanced characters that make up the rest of the household. But where The Ripping Tree really sings is when examining Australia’s black history.
Poss was rescued from the shipwreck by a ‘native� who deposited her at the Craw home. Over time, Mouse also lets on that he has been playing with Aboriginal children on the property and, when the first of the novel’s horrors strikes, it is an Aboriginal mother and baby who suffer. But as Poss seeks to learn more about the local inhabitants, the Craw family closes ranks. They deny any wrongdoing towards the ‘natives�. They deny, in fact, the existence of Aboriginal people on their estate. Poss realises that her inquisitive mind may have uncovered, and perhaps even unleashed, unimaginable horrors. Mr Craw has made a promise to his wife to eradicate ‘them� � these semi-humans, these pests. Poss is outraged.
But Poss has much to learn. The Craws remind her that she is a newcomer, and there are certain things that must be accepted. It’s just the way of things. But as Poss questions and argues against this bizarre and unjust logic, the reader, too, questions and argues. Poss� position as an outsider is her advantage. She manoeuvres her moral compass and measures her responses against those of people she admires, like her humanitarian father. She expresses her deep grief and horror at the subjugation and exploitation of the local people � even when she must also fight to protect herself, and Mouse, from the wrath of her oppressors. Deep themes of justice, fairness, and taking a knife to the status quo are the undercurrents of this tale.
Neither feminist activism nor racial equality are new topics in fiction, and yet here we are in 2021 STILL fighting. Poss� wide eyed curiosity takes these enormous, horrendous concerns and distils them down to some relatively simple points � these behaviours are illogical and unfair. How did our ancestors ever think they made sense? This book deftly shows us why we need to keep telling these stories, asking these questions, again and again and again, to make progress.
With thanks to NetGalley and Harper Collins Publishers AU for my copy. All opinions are my own.
April 12, 2021
‘What’s going on here ... it feels like there are layers and layers of things going on here and I want to peel away at Willowbrae’s secrets like the bark on the Ripping Tree until a bare core of truth and honesty is exposed, and nothing else is left.�
This book came as a big surprise - not the book I initially thought it would be. The writing style is unique and clever but the story .... hmmm ... at first I was not convinced, however, by the end I was a convert. With short, sharp chapters, this is an engaging and confronting tale of a strong willed young girl caught up in a horrifying family secret from Australia’s disturbing colonial past.
Nikki’s historical novel featuring the early settlement of Australia, certainly delves into a dark time in our history. There is so much to ‘The Ripping Tree�, with nothing as what it would seem and fueled by writing that is both unique and strangely captivating.
"Pa once taught me an old Celtic phrase - ‘the thin places� -to describe those little pockets of the natural world that feel closer to the mysterious energy that drives all the earth. He said the thin places arrest you with their strange power, and the Ripping Tree glade, despite all the trauma it’s seen, feels like one of them. I want to be stilled by it, healed, and learn more about it.�
The main theme pertains to the absolute horrific disregard and treatment of Australia’s Indigenous culture in the early 1800s. There are recounts and scenes that readers must be warned are both distressing and disturbing. However, as a student of history myself, I know these stories to be an accurate portrayal from my own previous reading. Credit to Nikki for presenting these details and not shying away from them.
The other strong emphasis relates to the treatment of women during this time period. With the main character being strong and determined, refusing to conform to societal expectations, she was quick to be labelled as difficult and at times hysterical with proposals to institutionalise her.
� .. once again -just as before ... men have imagined a life for me that completely disregards the life I’ve imagined for myself .�
So although this book takes a little to get into and has strong confronting themes, the intense yet cleverly crafted writing of Nikki’s is sure to both unsettle yet entice her readers to learn the story behind, ‘The Ripping Tree�.
‘Let’s just say my little tale is a history of a great colonial house that was burdened by a situation that was never resolved, and I fear all over this land will never be resolved. It is our great wound that needs suturing and it hasn’t been yet and I fear, perhaps, it never will be, for we’re not comfortable, still, with acknowledging it ... We’re not comfortable with exposing stories like this to the air and the sun and salt. And I cannot give you the native side of this tragedy, my loves, because I don’t begin to know it, or them; I can’t speak for them. But I respect them and acknowledge them and love them for the riches they bring to all of us, and I know we are remiss.�
This review is based on a complimentary copy from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. The quoted material may have changed in the final release.
This book came as a big surprise - not the book I initially thought it would be. The writing style is unique and clever but the story .... hmmm ... at first I was not convinced, however, by the end I was a convert. With short, sharp chapters, this is an engaging and confronting tale of a strong willed young girl caught up in a horrifying family secret from Australia’s disturbing colonial past.
Nikki’s historical novel featuring the early settlement of Australia, certainly delves into a dark time in our history. There is so much to ‘The Ripping Tree�, with nothing as what it would seem and fueled by writing that is both unique and strangely captivating.
"Pa once taught me an old Celtic phrase - ‘the thin places� -to describe those little pockets of the natural world that feel closer to the mysterious energy that drives all the earth. He said the thin places arrest you with their strange power, and the Ripping Tree glade, despite all the trauma it’s seen, feels like one of them. I want to be stilled by it, healed, and learn more about it.�
The main theme pertains to the absolute horrific disregard and treatment of Australia’s Indigenous culture in the early 1800s. There are recounts and scenes that readers must be warned are both distressing and disturbing. However, as a student of history myself, I know these stories to be an accurate portrayal from my own previous reading. Credit to Nikki for presenting these details and not shying away from them.
The other strong emphasis relates to the treatment of women during this time period. With the main character being strong and determined, refusing to conform to societal expectations, she was quick to be labelled as difficult and at times hysterical with proposals to institutionalise her.
� .. once again -just as before ... men have imagined a life for me that completely disregards the life I’ve imagined for myself .�
So although this book takes a little to get into and has strong confronting themes, the intense yet cleverly crafted writing of Nikki’s is sure to both unsettle yet entice her readers to learn the story behind, ‘The Ripping Tree�.
‘Let’s just say my little tale is a history of a great colonial house that was burdened by a situation that was never resolved, and I fear all over this land will never be resolved. It is our great wound that needs suturing and it hasn’t been yet and I fear, perhaps, it never will be, for we’re not comfortable, still, with acknowledging it ... We’re not comfortable with exposing stories like this to the air and the sun and salt. And I cannot give you the native side of this tragedy, my loves, because I don’t begin to know it, or them; I can’t speak for them. But I respect them and acknowledge them and love them for the riches they bring to all of us, and I know we are remiss.�
This review is based on a complimentary copy from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. The quoted material may have changed in the final release.
July 11, 2021
This book had a lot of promise and I’d read good reviews, but it was overwritten. The flowery language made it hard to follow and ultimately, disappointing. Limped to the end.
November 1, 2021
Did not enjoy this one at all. A well written book but too contemporary in its telling for the historical setting.
April 15, 2021
There is so much to "The Ripping Tree". Nothing is what it seems in the story, and for Tom, previously known asÌýThomasina.You see, Tom is about to marry a vicar when the Australian seas collide with her ship and leave her for dead.ÌýShe is rescued by an Aboriginal man who carries her to her capture at Willowbrae, unknowingly reuniting her with a world she no longer wished to be a part of. Tom is a woman who speaks her own mind.ÌýÌýShe can swim. She is nick-named the Mermaid, and escapes her vanity by cutting off her hair and being more comfortable in pants than a dress and panatloons and wanting to run around outside. At Willowbrae she hopes to use all of this to her advantage, but something is not right. In fact, nothing is right.
It is almost like a fisherman reeling in his catch in slow motion; a little slack is offered, and then the reel tightens its grip around Tom the more steps she thinks she is taking in the right direction.ÌýTom's androgynyÌýis a strong metaphor for the liberation she was seeking, and the life being created around her through the hybrid of her history in London and future at Willowbrae. Is she seeking salvation, or was the choice never hers to make? Tom stumbles across a horrifying secret at the heart of this Willowbrae world of colonial decorum - she may have exchanged one kind of prison for another.
Thank you NetGalley for the e-ARC; book to be released April 2021.
It is almost like a fisherman reeling in his catch in slow motion; a little slack is offered, and then the reel tightens its grip around Tom the more steps she thinks she is taking in the right direction.ÌýTom's androgynyÌýis a strong metaphor for the liberation she was seeking, and the life being created around her through the hybrid of her history in London and future at Willowbrae. Is she seeking salvation, or was the choice never hers to make? Tom stumbles across a horrifying secret at the heart of this Willowbrae world of colonial decorum - she may have exchanged one kind of prison for another.
Thank you NetGalley for the e-ARC; book to be released April 2021.
April 5, 2021
The dark heart of the story is to do with the troubled relations between First Australians and settlers; it’s no spoiler to say that as it is obvious from the beginning that atrocities of the sort committed during the colonial era will be involved. I respect the author’s choice to write a story about difficult events like these.
‘Let’s just say my little tale is a history of a great colonial house that was burdened by a situation that was never resolved, and I fear all over this land will never be resolved. It is our great wound that needs suturing and it hasn’t been yet and I fear, perhaps, it never will be, for we’re not comfortable, still, with acknowledging it.�
The Ripping Tree p339
This quote from the end of the book speaks to the truth of the novel and the author’s purpose. I agree wholeheartedly with the sentiments expressed. For me, the disappointment lies in my inability to care for the protagonist or most of the other characters.
Others may disagree: I would be most interested to know if you have read The Ripping Tree and if so, what you thought.
July 21, 2021
A book about the violence of Australia's colonisation that somehow makes the death of the native peoples about the damage it does to white boys.
This is a book for people who liked The Familiars. The story is largely a vehicle for moralising, from a "not like other girls" protagonist to the violence enacted against the token non-whites. It's a worthy story, but shallow and heavy-handed, and especially by the end feels hampered by the fact the sexism seems mostly used as an excuse to protect the white woman from condemnation by the readers - which honestly is pretty good and realistic, having her wait until she couldn't possibly get hurt to reveal her story, and even then not in any way that could disrupt the lives of those who should have been held to justice. I feel like the people who need to read this will be put off by the in-your-face moralising, and those who are aware of the issues and want them to be addressed will be exasperated by the lack of depth and coloniser apologism/"exotic others" narrative. Personally, it just wasn't my thing - I don't love this style of book anyway so it's already a hard sell.
This is a book for people who liked The Familiars. The story is largely a vehicle for moralising, from a "not like other girls" protagonist to the violence enacted against the token non-whites. It's a worthy story, but shallow and heavy-handed, and especially by the end feels hampered by the fact the sexism seems mostly used as an excuse to protect the white woman from condemnation by the readers - which honestly is pretty good and realistic, having her wait until she couldn't possibly get hurt to reveal her story, and even then not in any way that could disrupt the lives of those who should have been held to justice. I feel like the people who need to read this will be put off by the in-your-face moralising, and those who are aware of the issues and want them to be addressed will be exasperated by the lack of depth and coloniser apologism/"exotic others" narrative. Personally, it just wasn't my thing - I don't love this style of book anyway so it's already a hard sell.
May 10, 2021
Poorly edited. Many historical inaccuracies and inconsistencies in the plot. This author deserves better from her publisher
June 16, 2021
Disappointing ending.
January 5, 2023
This book contained so many historical inaccuracies, implausible conversations, inappropriate language/ concepts for the time period, and overly descriptive language, that it was hard to take seriously.
Supposedly set in the early 1800s. There were no Asylums for hysterical women in Australia until Freemantle in mid 1800s. All her childhood friends ended up in an Asylum? Ammonites? Buckingham Palace? Not built yet. Piles of pirate, magic and fairy tales in a 7 year old's bedroom? Not at this time. No other servants than the old convict - in a wealthy house? What did Mr Craw actually farm? A 'volcano of clothes piled on the bed' in Virgil's room - no one owned lots of clothes at that time. A church in the bush on a barely used road? Yet everyone went every week and it was used for many other community events? Mrs Caw's "fifth favourite dress" - on day 5? And so many more...
It was just so fanciful.
Oh and the grandmother reading off scraps of paper supposedly scribbled down secretly while she was in an asylum? Just silly.
For a more believable account of early settlers and treatment of natives try Kate Grenville's Secret River.
Supposedly set in the early 1800s. There were no Asylums for hysterical women in Australia until Freemantle in mid 1800s. All her childhood friends ended up in an Asylum? Ammonites? Buckingham Palace? Not built yet. Piles of pirate, magic and fairy tales in a 7 year old's bedroom? Not at this time. No other servants than the old convict - in a wealthy house? What did Mr Craw actually farm? A 'volcano of clothes piled on the bed' in Virgil's room - no one owned lots of clothes at that time. A church in the bush on a barely used road? Yet everyone went every week and it was used for many other community events? Mrs Caw's "fifth favourite dress" - on day 5? And so many more...
It was just so fanciful.
Oh and the grandmother reading off scraps of paper supposedly scribbled down secretly while she was in an asylum? Just silly.
For a more believable account of early settlers and treatment of natives try Kate Grenville's Secret River.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
May 2, 2023
I'm conflicted about this in some ways, as I really enjoyed the story of Tom (aka Poss), the sole survivor of a shipwreck, left on the doorstep of a 'strange' family, by her Aboriginal rescuer. She decided to change the direction of her life by 'forgetting' certain things and her new life becomes even more interesting. There are a few issues discussed in this book but for some reason, despite Tom's different upbringing, her behaviour was a bit too modern day for me. The book also seemed to end too quickly and I wanted to know more!
I had a wet few days at home so had time to devour this book for our local bookclub meeting next week but it left me wanting more unfortunately. I rate it as 3.5 stars as I liked it and would recommend it as a book to read more about women living in colonial times, but with a different agenda than usual. I'll be interested in what the other members of our bookclub thought of it.
I had a wet few days at home so had time to devour this book for our local bookclub meeting next week but it left me wanting more unfortunately. I rate it as 3.5 stars as I liked it and would recommend it as a book to read more about women living in colonial times, but with a different agenda than usual. I'll be interested in what the other members of our bookclub thought of it.
September 9, 2021
A gothic, dark look at an unsettling and horrific time in Australian history. Set in and around a property called Willowbrae, as a shipwreck survivor suffers through a turbulent 'recovery'. I went in without knowing anything about the story, which turned out to be a good idea, actually. By the end you will never forget it.
April 14, 2021
The Ripping Tree is poetic, evocative and confronting. Nikki Gemmell brings the reader to the harsh landscape of Australia in the early years of colonisation, and the shameful treatment of the First Nations People.
I was immediately captivated by the lyrical prose, which draws you to the protagonist, Thomasina, and her early life in England. It becomes apparent early in the narrative, that “Tom� is ahead of her time. Raised by her single father, she has been educated and given the gift of freedom and independent thought - a rarity for young ladies of her time.
Sadly, upon her fathers death, she is shipped off to be married against her will to a stranger in the far away colonies. Fate intervenes and she finds herself the lone survivor of a shipwreck, lovingly cared for, then deposited on the doorstep of grand home “Willowbrae�, by a mystery indigenous man.
Thomasina sees this as an opportunity to reinvent her future and upon befriending the youngest child of the family, sets out to create a new path for herself. But the determination she so fiercely displays is ultimately the thing that could be her undoing, as she uncovers the truths hidden and the injustices that she feels compelled to bring to light.
The Ripping Tree is at times confronting, but it is within this honesty that it’s true value as a historical novel sits. It delves into the dark and uncomfortable truths of early colonialism, and the subsequent treatment of the First Nations People. Nikki Gemmell holds a mirror up to Australians, and challenges us to look away.
Thank you to NetGalley, Harper Collins Australia and Author Nikki Gemmell for the opportunity to read and review The Ripping Tree.
May 1, 2021
The publication of Gemmell’s latest novel is ironically well-timed as consideration is being given to include more of an Indigenous focus within the Australian National Curriculum. In fact, I see the author’s clear intent to reveal a “truth� about the settlers� treatment of the First Nations people in the early 1800s, one that must be lifted out of secrecy and confronted if Australia is to move forward. In Gemmell’s fictionalised history, what initially appeared as an attempt to rescue a young woman washed up on the shores of the home of an illustrious family, ultimately led to her life being threatened when she had discovered the dark secrets of this colonial environment.
The author cleverly revealed bits of the horror to Thomasina, ensuring that the pieces of the puzzle were similarly exposed to the horrified reader. Gemmell’s characterisations were stunning, including the parents and sons of Willowbrae, the Craws, but particularly her portrait of the strong, resilient young woman who refused to be entrapped by the evil that she soon discovered around her. The friendship that developed between Thomasina and the youngest child of the family, Mouse, served to highlight the loneliness of them both and their deep need to be loved.
The Foreword and Afterword provided a neat “package� for the reader, who certainly began the novel with confusion, a clever convention by the author. Gemmell presented unsettling graphic images and references to the genocidal plans to annihilate Australia's native population. Willowbrae housed the “malevolent beast squatting on alien soil, poised, waiting to crack open.� This was a surprising novel that certainly will generate important discussion.
The author cleverly revealed bits of the horror to Thomasina, ensuring that the pieces of the puzzle were similarly exposed to the horrified reader. Gemmell’s characterisations were stunning, including the parents and sons of Willowbrae, the Craws, but particularly her portrait of the strong, resilient young woman who refused to be entrapped by the evil that she soon discovered around her. The friendship that developed between Thomasina and the youngest child of the family, Mouse, served to highlight the loneliness of them both and their deep need to be loved.
The Foreword and Afterword provided a neat “package� for the reader, who certainly began the novel with confusion, a clever convention by the author. Gemmell presented unsettling graphic images and references to the genocidal plans to annihilate Australia's native population. Willowbrae housed the “malevolent beast squatting on alien soil, poised, waiting to crack open.� This was a surprising novel that certainly will generate important discussion.
April 4, 2021
Thank you Harper Collins for sending us a copy to read and review.
The opportunity to reinvent yourself and escape the life destined and dreaded on the surface seems ideal.
Surviving the horrors of shipwreck in Australian colonial times puts a whole new slant on this feat.
A harsh land with a brutal climate, hardened people and dangerous wildlife that does seem upside down in every regard.
The detrimental consequences of colonialism with the ongoing mistreatment and murder of indigenous population scarring much of the tranquility that the land offered.
Thomasina is the sole survivor washed up from the devastating shipwreck.
Taken to Willowbrae Estate where she experiences a strange and harrowing seven days with the Craw family.
An obsessed matriarch who craves a daughter, a strict and god fearing father and sons that are all different in nature and behaviour.
Befriending the youngest she is drawn into secrets that reveal the cracks in the family and the darkness of colonial policy and decorum.
Vulnerable and alone she learns the truth and realises she is entangled in a situation that offers a dim future.
The unity of the family too much to overcome.
The brief snapshot of time for this new arrival to our shores offers the reader an intense and at times beguiling experience as the story gathers momentum quickly.
A whimsical flavour with the nicknames and antics gives an Enid Blyton feel but is sharply contrasted with confronting scenes and actions.
A very intelligent and well composed book that has a textural feel to its cover like bark from a tree.
The opportunity to reinvent yourself and escape the life destined and dreaded on the surface seems ideal.
Surviving the horrors of shipwreck in Australian colonial times puts a whole new slant on this feat.
A harsh land with a brutal climate, hardened people and dangerous wildlife that does seem upside down in every regard.
The detrimental consequences of colonialism with the ongoing mistreatment and murder of indigenous population scarring much of the tranquility that the land offered.
Thomasina is the sole survivor washed up from the devastating shipwreck.
Taken to Willowbrae Estate where she experiences a strange and harrowing seven days with the Craw family.
An obsessed matriarch who craves a daughter, a strict and god fearing father and sons that are all different in nature and behaviour.
Befriending the youngest she is drawn into secrets that reveal the cracks in the family and the darkness of colonial policy and decorum.
Vulnerable and alone she learns the truth and realises she is entangled in a situation that offers a dim future.
The unity of the family too much to overcome.
The brief snapshot of time for this new arrival to our shores offers the reader an intense and at times beguiling experience as the story gathers momentum quickly.
A whimsical flavour with the nicknames and antics gives an Enid Blyton feel but is sharply contrasted with confronting scenes and actions.
A very intelligent and well composed book that has a textural feel to its cover like bark from a tree.
April 12, 2023
Unputdownable.
September 28, 2021
I read somewhere that Nikki Gemmell wrote this novel on scraps of paper balanced on the steering wheel of her car while she waited for her kids to finish football practice. It took her ten years or so to finish it, written in spurts and dashes, interspersed with periods of absence from the task while she was busy looking after baby.
There is a frame for the story, in which an elderly grandmother produces a shabby bundle of papers that constitute a story about a grand estate somewhere in Van Diemen's Land, and the dark history that appertains to that particular piece of settler history. It is not too hard to imagine that the shabby bundle of the fiction must have been not unlike the rough-work that Gemmell constructed this Gothic tale upon.
It is a Gothic tale, so it is eminently predictable. I was disappointed that there wasn't a huge purifying fire at the end (sorry, spoiler alert), but it does start with a shipwreck (oh, come on, that's in the blurb!), and there were plenty of other Gothic conventions, tropes, and archetypes to admire and anticipate. There was also something of an Agatha Christie moment where a mystery is solved - or revealed, at least - in something that would pass as a parlour. I've read a few books this year that pay tribute to that little strategy. I don't know what that means, if anything.
The novel has Gemmell's trademark "evocative and poetic" turn of phrase, which means that she uses too many adjectives and plenty of similes. The similes are spot on, most of the time - breathtakingly so, on some occasions, so look out for those! - but I often found myself re-reading a sentence without the adjectives, just to see the difference. Often I felt it was better unadorned, but that's probably just me.
There are many things about this novel to like, even though what I've written so far might sound like that's not the case. I've given this five stars, which is what I give novels that are so good that I wish I had written them myself in my alternate universe life where I write novels. This is a topic I've actually thought about a bit, and it was interesting to see how Gemmell managed to come up with things that I'd thought about when pondering how a Gothic novel with this premise might look run, and also - much more interestingly - the things that she completely surprised me with.
The time structure - telling the story over seven days - was very suited to the task. It would have been easy to have allowed the tension to build up over much longer, and for our hapless Ingenue to slowly drift more and more toward becoming the Monster (which she may or may not do, dear reader, in this instance of the Gothic, but that is certainly a convention of the genre), but instead she has carved the story down into that one week. I began reading it one day (of the story) per day (of my life), but then it became impossible to wait a sleep to see what happened next.
I would have to say, though, that there were things that annoyed me about Poss, the Ingenue, and here they are.
(1) She is too outspoken, too quickly, and has no idea of how to build and maintain suspense.
This is the character I'm talking about, not the author. Poss is a little like that person at a murder mystery dinner party who has been told in their pre-dinner notes that they know something about one of the other players, and not to reveal it until challenged, but then blurts it out as people are still taking off their coats.
(2) She comes across as anachronistic.
You remember that novel and the film that followed it, Playing Beatie Bow? If not, here's the skinny: Independent young female from now (the 1980s) is transported through time by a magical piece of lace (yes, actually) back to The Rocks in Sydney back in them convict days. She takes with her all of her now thinking, and uses it to deal with things as they were back then, with both frustrating (for her) and devastating (for everyone) results.
I feel that Poss is a little like that here. She has been raised by a rather radical widower father, and he has brought her up to be a thinking, questioning person who speaks truth to power... and that just doesn't sit well with the time that this novel is set. Sure, there were probably people like that, but it feels wrong to put her into this story with all its other confinements to the genre but with that aberration in play.
I'm all for fish-out-of-water Gothic tales, but this one felt like the fish was pretty well desiccated.
That's the end of the things that annoyed me about Poss.
Oh, except that I also had trouble fixing exactly how old she was. I had in my mind that she was late teens, and it even lists her age as 16, but then she seemed to be more early teens when things came up later in the novel, behaving perhaps even a child of twelve or so would act. That's just a me thing, though. I like to have a firm idea of how old characters are when they are in a position of oppression. It helps me to understand the points being made. When their age is a little slippery like this, it confuses me.
Now that I've brought up "points being made", here are some things to look out for as you read the novel:
- Hair dressing (symbolism)
- Sweat running down her chest (weird repeated detail)
- References to mermaids (motif)
- Doors and windows (metaphors)
- Isolation (theme)
We'll discuss these later.
Also note the way she uses full stops to mimic the way people speak.
It is. Really. Quite. Effective.
If, again, a little anachronistic.
And a couple more anachronisms: at one point, a character looks at her watch (I presume this means a pocket watch, but it still jarred), and I have this story set in my mind sometime around 1810 - 1820, and there is a reference to Buckingham Palace, which didn't become a place of note until 1837 when Queen Victoria adapted it as her city residence. Mind you, the story could well be set later than 1837, so I might just be plain wrong.
She handles the involvement of Aboriginal characters with respect, not trying to give their view on the things that happen, but only using one Aboriginal character to deliver - in English - some exposition in the Agatha Christie patented parlour scene.
The Aboriginal people in this story thus remain largely inscrutable, which is the present way we pay them respect. In fact, Poss reflects with remorse twice that she had made a decision on behalf of two Aboriginals and that her thinking may have been grossly inappropriate to their own cultural beliefs and practices.
There is also a convict character who is paid a similar respect of inscrutability, but as he is the Hermit archetype, who knows all and is not listened to, that is probably more to do with his convention.
One day someone will write the novel that starts to deal with our unspoken-of trauma, convictism. It will probably be a Gothic novel. And I know that novels like For the Term of His Natural Life exist, but maybe we need a new thinking on that whole Thing.
So, anyway, this is a terrific Australian Gothic novel, where the Bush is as much a character as the House usually is in such endeavours. It seems to have been written with a great deal of love for our landscape and our uneasy place in it.
You probably won't be able to enjoy it, because of its subject matter, but you will be able to appreciate it.
So, appreciate!
BONUS
, in which she talks about The Turn of The Screw, not writing from an Aboriginal perspective, finding the perfect Willowbrae in North West Tasmania, it not being set in Tasmania (!?), and much, much more. Add it to your PD register and claim it on tax. You're welcome.
There is a frame for the story, in which an elderly grandmother produces a shabby bundle of papers that constitute a story about a grand estate somewhere in Van Diemen's Land, and the dark history that appertains to that particular piece of settler history. It is not too hard to imagine that the shabby bundle of the fiction must have been not unlike the rough-work that Gemmell constructed this Gothic tale upon.
It is a Gothic tale, so it is eminently predictable. I was disappointed that there wasn't a huge purifying fire at the end (sorry, spoiler alert), but it does start with a shipwreck (oh, come on, that's in the blurb!), and there were plenty of other Gothic conventions, tropes, and archetypes to admire and anticipate. There was also something of an Agatha Christie moment where a mystery is solved - or revealed, at least - in something that would pass as a parlour. I've read a few books this year that pay tribute to that little strategy. I don't know what that means, if anything.
The novel has Gemmell's trademark "evocative and poetic" turn of phrase, which means that she uses too many adjectives and plenty of similes. The similes are spot on, most of the time - breathtakingly so, on some occasions, so look out for those! - but I often found myself re-reading a sentence without the adjectives, just to see the difference. Often I felt it was better unadorned, but that's probably just me.
There are many things about this novel to like, even though what I've written so far might sound like that's not the case. I've given this five stars, which is what I give novels that are so good that I wish I had written them myself in my alternate universe life where I write novels. This is a topic I've actually thought about a bit, and it was interesting to see how Gemmell managed to come up with things that I'd thought about when pondering how a Gothic novel with this premise might look run, and also - much more interestingly - the things that she completely surprised me with.
The time structure - telling the story over seven days - was very suited to the task. It would have been easy to have allowed the tension to build up over much longer, and for our hapless Ingenue to slowly drift more and more toward becoming the Monster (which she may or may not do, dear reader, in this instance of the Gothic, but that is certainly a convention of the genre), but instead she has carved the story down into that one week. I began reading it one day (of the story) per day (of my life), but then it became impossible to wait a sleep to see what happened next.
I would have to say, though, that there were things that annoyed me about Poss, the Ingenue, and here they are.
(1) She is too outspoken, too quickly, and has no idea of how to build and maintain suspense.
This is the character I'm talking about, not the author. Poss is a little like that person at a murder mystery dinner party who has been told in their pre-dinner notes that they know something about one of the other players, and not to reveal it until challenged, but then blurts it out as people are still taking off their coats.
(2) She comes across as anachronistic.
You remember that novel and the film that followed it, Playing Beatie Bow? If not, here's the skinny: Independent young female from now (the 1980s) is transported through time by a magical piece of lace (yes, actually) back to The Rocks in Sydney back in them convict days. She takes with her all of her now thinking, and uses it to deal with things as they were back then, with both frustrating (for her) and devastating (for everyone) results.
I feel that Poss is a little like that here. She has been raised by a rather radical widower father, and he has brought her up to be a thinking, questioning person who speaks truth to power... and that just doesn't sit well with the time that this novel is set. Sure, there were probably people like that, but it feels wrong to put her into this story with all its other confinements to the genre but with that aberration in play.
I'm all for fish-out-of-water Gothic tales, but this one felt like the fish was pretty well desiccated.
That's the end of the things that annoyed me about Poss.
Oh, except that I also had trouble fixing exactly how old she was. I had in my mind that she was late teens, and it even lists her age as 16, but then she seemed to be more early teens when things came up later in the novel, behaving perhaps even a child of twelve or so would act. That's just a me thing, though. I like to have a firm idea of how old characters are when they are in a position of oppression. It helps me to understand the points being made. When their age is a little slippery like this, it confuses me.
Now that I've brought up "points being made", here are some things to look out for as you read the novel:
- Hair dressing (symbolism)
- Sweat running down her chest (weird repeated detail)
- References to mermaids (motif)
- Doors and windows (metaphors)
- Isolation (theme)
We'll discuss these later.
Also note the way she uses full stops to mimic the way people speak.
It is. Really. Quite. Effective.
If, again, a little anachronistic.
And a couple more anachronisms: at one point, a character looks at her watch (I presume this means a pocket watch, but it still jarred), and I have this story set in my mind sometime around 1810 - 1820, and there is a reference to Buckingham Palace, which didn't become a place of note until 1837 when Queen Victoria adapted it as her city residence. Mind you, the story could well be set later than 1837, so I might just be plain wrong.
She handles the involvement of Aboriginal characters with respect, not trying to give their view on the things that happen, but only using one Aboriginal character to deliver - in English - some exposition in the Agatha Christie patented parlour scene.
The Aboriginal people in this story thus remain largely inscrutable, which is the present way we pay them respect. In fact, Poss reflects with remorse twice that she had made a decision on behalf of two Aboriginals and that her thinking may have been grossly inappropriate to their own cultural beliefs and practices.
There is also a convict character who is paid a similar respect of inscrutability, but as he is the Hermit archetype, who knows all and is not listened to, that is probably more to do with his convention.
One day someone will write the novel that starts to deal with our unspoken-of trauma, convictism. It will probably be a Gothic novel. And I know that novels like For the Term of His Natural Life exist, but maybe we need a new thinking on that whole Thing.
So, anyway, this is a terrific Australian Gothic novel, where the Bush is as much a character as the House usually is in such endeavours. It seems to have been written with a great deal of love for our landscape and our uneasy place in it.
You probably won't be able to enjoy it, because of its subject matter, but you will be able to appreciate it.
So, appreciate!
BONUS
, in which she talks about The Turn of The Screw, not writing from an Aboriginal perspective, finding the perfect Willowbrae in North West Tasmania, it not being set in Tasmania (!?), and much, much more. Add it to your PD register and claim it on tax. You're welcome.
January 16, 2022
This is a very thought-provoking imagining of how a corner of Australia’s colonial past may have played out. The accurate historical references are juxtaposed against characters who are engaging; however, ultimately, it is too deeply imbued with a twenty first century sensibility to allow strong and clear suspension of disbelief.
I wanted to love it and I do applaud the intent: to give voice to the voiceless, to expose that which has been silenced. I think it took me some time to see what Nikki was trying to achieve with this novel. The reduction of characters to stereotypes results in the white saviour/ exotic native dichotomy, and I guess that’s intended as a representation of the main character, Poss’s, point of view. The indigenous characters appeared mythological and effectively dehumanised, their individual personalities and voices silenced. Thankfully, towards the end, the main character, Poss, finally experiences a moment of self-realisation and humility: “I wake with a start. I did them both wrong� I never thought to ask Tinkin what she might actually want.�
Ultimately, the novel explores the fact that we are all trapped in some way: by circumstances, by physical constraints or restraints and by our minds.
I wanted to love it and I do applaud the intent: to give voice to the voiceless, to expose that which has been silenced. I think it took me some time to see what Nikki was trying to achieve with this novel. The reduction of characters to stereotypes results in the white saviour/ exotic native dichotomy, and I guess that’s intended as a representation of the main character, Poss’s, point of view. The indigenous characters appeared mythological and effectively dehumanised, their individual personalities and voices silenced. Thankfully, towards the end, the main character, Poss, finally experiences a moment of self-realisation and humility: “I wake with a start. I did them both wrong� I never thought to ask Tinkin what she might actually want.�
Ultimately, the novel explores the fact that we are all trapped in some way: by circumstances, by physical constraints or restraints and by our minds.
July 26, 2021
Had a real sense of early settlers In Australia and the violence towards First Nations people. Ending could have done with some work.
January 21, 2025
I haven’t resented life taking me away from a book as much as The Ripping Tree for such a long time. I loved the relationship between Poss and Mouse, and the atrocities committed by Mr Craw were truly horrific. The ending was a little disappointing for me. A highly engaging read!
May 30, 2021
Thanks to Netgalley for a copy of this book for an honest review.
I'm not sure what to make of this story. It was almost a DNF at about 30% but I persevered. It got better but I didn't love it.
I'm not sure what to make of this story. It was almost a DNF at about 30% but I persevered. It got better but I didn't love it.
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