Peter Goldsworthy grew up in various Australian country towns, finishing his schooling in Darwin. After graduating in medicine from the University of Adelaide in 1974, he worked for many years in alcohol and drug rehabiiltation. Since then, he has divided his time equally between writing and general practice. He has won major literary awards across a range of genres: poetry, short story, the novel, in opera, and most recently in theatre.
I picked this book up at a library sale, motivated by the fact that I enjoy essays and that I know who the author is (he recently published possibly his last book, Cancer finishing school). Such things Fate decides for you and I'm grateful. This book's a winner.
Goldsworthy is an interesting mix. He's a working doctor and poet (what is it with medicine and poetry?) as well as a novelist and librettist. He is deeply into philosophy and reads New Scientist avidly every month. On top of this, he has a lovely dry sense of humour.
The essays here cover a wide range of topics he has clearly thought deeply about, although I most enjoyed The biology of literature, a fascinating exploration of how our brains work in terms of story telling and much else besides.
And I cannot leave this review without commenting on the perfection of the cover of my edition. The choice of sheep to indicate wool gathering is one thing, but then you have the extra layer of one lamb standing away from the herd, observing it. Goldsworthy must have been pretty darned pleased with THAT.
Goldsworthy for me is a sort of male Helen Garner - incredibly intelligent and awfully articulate, intertwining the ordinary with the extraordinary and reminding the reader that truth is stranger than fiction. Not my favourite of his books but nonetheless a sweet package of literary amuse bouche to while away the afternoon while my husband was in surgery.
I have read, & enjoyed, a lot of Goldsworthy's fiction so I was interested to read this. Many of the essays are related to writing, which was right up my alley, but some were just a little too esoteric for me to connect with.