Night falls. In a lonely valley called the Sink, four people prepare for a quiet evening. Then in his orchard, Murray Jaccob sees a moving shadow. Across the swamp, his neighbour Ronnie watches her lover leave and feels her baby roll inside her. And on the veranda of the Stubbses house, a small dog is torn screaming from its leash by something unseen. Nothing will ever be the same again.
Tim Winton was born in Perth, Western Australia, but moved at a young age to the small country town of Albany.
While a student at Curtin University of Technology, Winton wrote his first novel, An Open Swimmer. It went on to win The Australian/Vogel Literary Award in 1981, and launched his writing career. In fact, he wrote "the best part of three books while at university". His second book, Shallows, won the Miles Franklin Award in 1984. It wasn't until Cloudstreet was published in 1991, however, that his career and economic future were cemented.
In 1995 Winton’s novel, The Riders, was shortlisted for the Booker Prize, as was his 2002 book, Dirt Music. Both are currently being adapted for film. He has won many other prizes, including the Miles Franklin Award three times: for Shallows (1984), Cloudstreet (1992) and Dirt Music (2002). Cloudstreet is arguably his best-known work, regularly appearing in lists of Australia’s best-loved novels. His latest novel, released in 2013, is called Eyrie.
He is now one of Australia's most esteemed novelists, writing for both adults and children. All his books are still in print and have been published in eighteen different languages. His work has also been successfully adapted for stage, screen and radio. On the publication of his novel, Dirt Music, he collaborated with broadcaster, Lucky Oceans, to produce a compilation CD, Dirt Music – Music for a Novel.
He has lived in Italy, France, Ireland and Greece but currently lives in Western Australia with his wife and three children.
In the Winter Dark harks of economy. It is a mere slip of a book, a novella; set in one place and with only four characters. The vivid imagery is placed with an amazing economy of words. Tension rises in sometimes two sentences and the climax erupts in a couple of words. Everything happens in one place called the Sink and when you read about it, you find you sink into it.
Four neighbours on bush properties, they all have chosen to live in the Sink for their own private reasons. Stubbs, his wife Ida, Jacobs and Ronnie barely know each other. But one strange night, a scream will force them together. What follows is tense and smothering; trepidation, fear, isolation and confusion. Unwillingly joined against something unseen, each of them also faces their own personal demons and memories that they have fought to put behind them.
I found In The Winter Dark to be strangely reminiscent of Wake In Fright. What Tim Winton offers you is a story which will leave you feeling more than a little dazed. While I normally enjoy a huge tome, I was glad this was a novella; I'm not sure how easily I could have stepped back into the real world otherwise.
Que decepción... No sé ni lo que he leído. Me ha parecido un pastiche de cosas mezcladas de otros libros de terror sin pies ni cabeza. Estuve perdida bastante rato durante la lectura por la forma tan extraña que tiene el autor de narrar. No sentí tensión, no pasé miedo, no conecté con nada. Tiempo perdido. Y para remate, ese final que no explica nada... ahí te quedas con cara de ¿Qué me estás contando? Lo único bueno es que es un libro muy cortito y no lleva mucho tiempo leerlo.
I do love Tim Winton's writing: taut prose, lots of atmosphere and a strong sense of place. However, this novella is early Winton and not really up to the standard of the best of his later work. The excellent prose is there, as is the connection to the environment. There's not a lot of character development, though, and the plot, as suspenseful as it is, wasn't as compelling as I would have liked.
Still, less-than-spectacular Tim Winton is a lot better than the best that many other novelists have to offer, so I'm glad that I read this. I didn't absolutely love it, but I did like it quite a lot: 3.5 stars.
An early Winton novella with his usual characters, isolated, lonely and/or damaged in some way. Set in a valley known as the ‘Sink’, there are only three properties: the Stubbs, the narrator Maurice and his wife Ida on his family farm with sheep and cattle; Murray Jaccob who lives on his own in the big white house where the local rich used to live; and Ronnie, a young pregnant woman, who with her her boyfriend decided to move out of the city but at the start her boyfriend leaves. The next night something attacks the Stubbs’ dog and also kills all Ronnie’s ducks and her goat. What is out there in the night? It’s a taut and tense read with dark dreams and the dark histories of all the characters entering into the story. A dark and atmospheric read.
In the Winter Dark is an early work by Tim Winton - one of my favourite writers.
At around 100 pages, it's a tight novella, and could almost be a work of horror. it's certainly different from much of Winton's more recent work.
What it does have is the author's trademark sense of place. In The Winter Dark takes place in The Sink, an isolated valley in the Australian outback. It's an aptly-named hopeless, Godless place.
In The Winter Dark is effectively a chamber piece, focusing on four characters. Maurice and Ida are a married couple, and are country folk; neighbours Ronnie and Murray have come from the city.
They are forced together by a series of mysterious attacks on their livestock and pets. Is it a big cat, is it a prank, is it a form of revenge directed at one or the other, or even something supernatural. Whatever it is, it is psychologically unsettling for all the characters. It brings some together, but threatens to push others apart.
Winton effectively builds a real sense of terror and tension even in such a short book, and you can sense things are not going to end well. Perhaps it's best read late at night to get the full effect - or perhaps not if you want a good night's sleep.
(3.5) A taut early novella (just 110 pages) set in an Australian valley called the Sink. Animals have been disappearing: a pet dog snatched from its chain; livestock disemboweled. Four locals are drawn together by fear of an unidentified killer. Maurice Stubbs is the only one given a first-person voice, but passages alternate between his perspective and those of his wife Ida, Murray Jaccob, and Veronica, a pregnant teen. These are people on the edge, reckless and haunted by the past. The malevolent force comes to take on a vengeful nature. I was reminded of Andrew Michael Hurley’s novels. My first taste of Winton’s work whetted my appetite to read more by him – I have Cloudstreet on the shelf.
If you like them dark and the people sparse, you'll like this one. Bleak, bleak, bleak. If it was I, leaving the Sink would be as close to immediate as possible in any real time scenario. And it wouldn't be because of a monster in the forest either.
Tim Winton’s “In the Winter Dark” is the fourth of his novels, sandwiched between “That Eye, That Sky” (1986) and his breakout novel, “Cloudstreet” (1991). It is a short piece—110 pages in the Picador edition—that has all of the seeds that will sprout to characterize Winton’s future production. Those characteristics include a prose that is crisp, taut, sparse and engaging; careful description of the physical environment—in this case the isolated, rural landscape of Western Australia—that is as important to the action and plot as are the characters, who are themselves understandable only as part of that environment; and Winton’s unshakable conviction, molded into his plots, that his creations can never really escape their pasts.
I am not as fond of “In the Winter’s Dark” as I am of the other works that I have read of Winton. (At this point, that excludes only his first two novels, his 1997 “Blueback” and two of his earlier short story collections written before “The Turning”.) It did not seem to me as mature and developed as his later works starting with “Cloudstreet”. Even given that lack of maturity (or is it polish?), it is still an entertaining journey. There is enough tension and mystery to keep the reader engaged up to and through the hard climax. What distracts from the story’s resolution, however, is that it is not entirely convincing. Winton fails to fully develop the scope of the psychological stresses of his narrator, Maurice Stubs. Winton does not provide the reader with enough information about Maurice to be able to understand and accept the depth of his psychological struggles and his epiphany during the final aggressive encounter with the winter dark.
Es una historia un tanto curiosa y más que la historia en sí misma, destaco la creación de la atmósfera del lugar y las interacciones entre los diferentes "vecinos". Creo que me gustaría probar con algún otro libro del autor.
La calificación real sería 2.5 estrellas, porque no será un libro memorable.
Tim Winton is basically a superstar in terms of Australian literary history. Every time he writes a book, the Miles Franklin judges are practically like ‘Oh, Tim, just take the award. Just take it!’ If this were high school (and we lived in America), Tim Winton would be the cool, drama kid who reluctantly accepts the award of prom king, after turning up to the event as an ironic statement about the bourgeoisie society that we live in.
Essentially, Tim Winton is that hipster on Brunswick Street (non-Melburnians, I recommend you Google that one) that you kinda don’t want to like, but you do, because he’s so cool. And just to cement that theory, I just Googled Tim Winton, and the first photo that shows up is him, with long hair and a black turtleneck. Cliche fulfilled.
Aside from all this though, up until recently I hadn’t read any Tim Winton books. Which is weird for two reasons (aside from my above ramblings): first, practically every ‘literary’ person in Melbourne appears to have read Cloudstreet and loved it, and second, up until 30 seconds ago when I Google’d him, I’d pictured Tim Winton as an exact replica of my high school English teacher. Who I’d loved, because, hello, English nerd.
So, obviously, I decided enough was enough and I had to change that. Earlier this year, I woefully admitted that my knowledge of Australian authors was terribly inadequate, and that I needed to make a change. While I’ve read some Ruth Park and Timothy Conigrave since that statement, it wasn’t until about a week ago that I picked up Tim Winton’s In the Winter Dark. Lo and behold, like many Australian classics, it’s set in the lonely outback, with a black centre at its core.
In the Winter Dark follows the lives of four near-strangers who live in the Sink, a lonely valley in the outback. Though they are neighbours, they seldom interact with one another, and each has a dark secret in their past. One evening, Murray’s dog is killed and eaten by an unknown figure, and Ronnie’s goat and birds are completely torn apart. What thing in the night is literally pulling apart their lives? Could it be an errant animal, fuelled by years of isolation and evolution? Or is it just a way to trick one another, as part of an elaborate and cruel prank, while someone watches from the sides?
A short novel, In the Winter Dark is one of those rare novels that goes from first to third person perspective without causing any strain or confusion for the reader. Winton has a sparse, strangely emotionless way of writing, that still manages to capture the reader’s attention. Though he isn’t over the top with adjectives, and his descriptions are left to a bare minimum, I felt oddly as though I could picture the loneliness of the Sink, and of the heart-wrenching, confusing emotions that are gathering momentum inside each of the characters.
Considering that there are so few characters, and essentially the one scene throughout the novel, Winton has done a captivating job of creating a story that is thick with nuances, tensions and emotions. He is the epitome of a writer who ‘shows, but doesn’t tell’ – he somehow leads the reader to do all of the work, often without us realising it. Cheeky! This sparse writing also fuelled the plot of the story, which hinted at so much, while revealing very little.
In the Winter Dark is a perfect thriller – one that keeps you guessing, while building to a crescendo that you know isn’t going to end well. It isn’t black and white, and though it may be slightly frustrating to end the book without definitive answers, it also means that you’re left pondering the themes in the novel for days afterwards. Screaming with literary motifs and clues, its overt plot repetitively points to the hazier, indistinguishable emotions that are inside each of the characters.
I would definitely recommend In the Winter Dark, and after reading it, I will admit that I feel like a bit of a dill for not picking up one of Tim Winton’s books earlier. Apparently, sometimes if everyone is reading it, it IS because it’s a good book! Other times, not so much.
hmmmm i don’t really know how to feel about this one honestly. in simple words i’m gonna say i didn’t reaaaaallly like it too much? it was just really confusing at some points. the characters frustrated me and i’m upset i didn’t get clarification of what the actual ‘thing’ was.
i do have to admit that the switching between third and first person was smooth, but the other writing? yeah just couldn’t enjoy it too much.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Me pregunto si existirá mayor placer que el de comprar un libro totalmente desconocido en una librería, tan solo dejándote guiar por el instinto y, si acaso, por una portada llamativa. De nada conocía a Tim Winton, autor de renombre y abundante producción en su Australia natal. Pero es difícil resistirse a frases como la que aparece en la contraportada de En la oscuridad del invierno: «En un valle aislado, cuatro vidas se ven alteradas por los más profundos temores de la noche». La portada, en este caso, añade más peso al misterio, ya que muestra una casa aislada en mitad de un bosque inquietante. ¿Quién podía resistirse?
No es difícil hacerse una composición de lugar alrededor de la premisa de la novela. Cuatro personajes que habitan un paraje apartado de la civilización ven su rutina alterada cuando el ganado aparece brutalmente mutilado. Algo parece acechar al valle por las noches, y el cuarteto de protagonistas se verá obligado a hacer frente a la amenaza. Sé lo que estaréis pensando, pero en realidad En la oscuridad del invierno no es una obra de terror, al menos en un estilo clásico. Más bien se trata de un magnífico estudio de personajes empujados a circunstancias delicadas.
La novela hace gala de un estilo muy atento al detalle, quizá algo recargado pero en el buen sentido. De algún modo, la prosa de Winton te envuelve, te abraza y promete quedarse contigo. El dibujo ambiental es por sí solo uno de los grandes atractivos de la obra, aspecto que ya da buena muestra de su calidad literaria. Aunque la historia transcurre en Australia, el tono de la obra traslada al lector a parámetros reconocibles del oeste americano, una vida rural dedicada a la soledad y que, pese a ello, no es inmune al estrés y la ansiedad. En tal contraste se mueve el autor con destreza, añadiendo al importante peso “actoral” un elemento inquietante que va cobrando fuerza a medida que las páginas se suceden.
This is an earlier Winton and am unsure about it. I have generally liked most of his works but this one leaves me unsure. It was good, interesting and I wanted to keep reading but I still don't really know how to make sense of it?? I don't mind that the ending was never really CLEAR as that often happens with Winton books but I just found that I had no real explanation for it. As usual his characters are easy to get to know and to like and they are all built well but I thought the story-line was a little lacking (or perhaps it just went over my head). Either way, I enjoyed the read and have a feeling that this is one of those books that perhaps if I read again in some years I may understand it more.
I do have the desire though to now go read a book where I don't have to think and can just relax and let the author weave the story around me.
When a man dreams things from the past, you’d think he’d be able to rearrange them in new sequences to please himself. You’d think your unconscious mind would want to do it for you, to spare you the grief and shame. But no. In my dreams, it all happens as it happened, and I see it and be it again and again and the confusion never wears off.
A Tim Winton I’d never seen showed up in the library the other day and I had to claim it. One of my favourite writers ever, this guy writes the isolation of outback Australia so beautifully. This one is a little unformed despite the lovely sentences. It’s grim, dark and almost gothic. A mysterious creature is taking domestic animals on the farms in the valley. The neighbours take matters into their own hands and set about finding this creature. In the dark, in the middle of nowhere, bad things can be dreamed of, and worse things can happen. A short and grim read, but not one of Tim Winton’s best even though there are flashes of the brilliance that The Shepherds Hut has, there’s a similar feel in parts.
This was my first read from the author and I loved the writing style, but the whole novella felt like a fever dream or an acid trip (like the one depicted in the beginning ). I can objectively see what the author thought the random cat hating and cruelty flashbacks would add to the story, but in my opinion they were unnecessary triggers that lowered the rating for any cat lover that might chance upon this short story. However I liked the writing and considering this is an early work of a popular writer, I will also try reading some of his latest work to get a more in-depth idea of his ethos.
Warning, first: There is cat torture in this book. I'm a cat lover, so it was not an easy read. But, wow, the writing . . . it's just amazing.
I own several books by Tim Winton but haven't read any of them and I was in Australia, looking for something to read because my copy of Gone With the Wind (which I anticipated keeping me busy for the entire vacation) was going to pieces. My Australian friend said Winton is considered the Australian writer, so I bought a copy of In the Winter Dark, a novella, and started reading it on the first flight home.
Jaccob, Maurice, Ida, and Ronnie are neighbors in a place called the Sink. Maurice and Ida are farmers, Jaccob is a retired man who lives in the large house on the hill, and Ronnie is a young, pregnant city girl attempting to farm. Her boyfriend has just left her and claims he'll be back but Ronnie knows better.
When something viciously attacks Maurice and Ida's dog and Ronnie's ducks and goat, Maurice is certain he knows what it is and why. He's being punished for the horrible thing he did in his youth. While Maurice and Jaccob try to hunt down the killer, Ronnie becomes stupidly drug-addled and then drunk. She is fragile and everyone is certain that she's going to end up killing herself if something doesn't change. But, fear has made everyone behave dangerously. And, not everyone will come out of this experience alive.
Brutal story but seriously, the writing is just. flat. astounding. I can see why Australian's consider him their best writer. The sense of place is brilliant, utterly brilliant and, according to other reviews here, this is early Winton. So, I have much to look forward to.
In the Winter Dark is not a story to read if you desire a certain amount of closure when it comes to stories about mysterious beasts stalking the countryside, nor is it one for lovers of gore. But it was a very interesting story which I read through rather quickly.
I've never read anything by Winton before, he seems to be capable of conveying what is going on with very few words. And I never felt any of the story was rushed or incomplete. Truth be told, I usually steer clear of Australian authors because those I have read (and by read, I mean force fed during school) seem to rely heavily on Australiana. Or they're stories which tend to feature archetypal "battlers," which make me cringe. I'm not going to get into why, suffice to say I'm glad this story had none of it. Though it was very much an Australian story.
I will probably check through Winton's books and see if there is anything else he's written that seems appealing. Though I've recently promised my girlfriend I wont buy any more books unless it is absolutely necessary. So we'll see.
An odd Novella that had so much potential but for the life of me I had no idea wtf was going on
Once again, however, there was an unnecessary weird sexual bit that only ever seems to occur within books written by men :))) to quote - TW -
‘She might be eighteen, twenty maybe. He knew he should take his hands off her, but he ran a palm up her thigh and across her cotton panties. Her little belly was round and hard as fruit, and Jaccob sat there aching with his hand on her till the first cautious bird broke into song, and the light showed the mist rising on the slopes and the sorry lump in his jeans.’ LIKE THIS WASNT RELEVANT AT ALL TO STORY I STG
Like, why is this weirdness necessary?? It added 0 value to this book other than to piss me off
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
There's not an awful lot to this novel (plot wise) but I'm awfully compelled to it. The writing is very vivid and the creation of atmospheres is incredible. I knew it was going to be one of those books that makes you feel a bit uncomfortable when it's gone. It has some sort of aura that's very alluring and entrancing. Winton's incredible at orchestrating suspense and keeping you in it for most of the book. It's not really what's out there but what's in you, that 'Winter Dark'.
God i hated this book. It was brutal and ugly and left me feeling vaguely sick. But it definitely achieved its goal and Winton is an incredible storyteller. It's not marketed as horror, but honestly i can't think of a better genre for it.
'In the Winter Dark' is my favourite Winton novel. It conjures the Australian Landscape like no other book. It's spooky undertones will never leave you once you've entered into the winter.
3.5* Maurice, the narrator lives in Sink, at the end of dead end road in an isolated valley, with swamp and forest all around. He sees shadows, a remnant of a past deed which haunts him. A pet dog is graphically decapitated, then a goat and some chickens. It is a big cat? Should the authorities get involved? The residents, elderly married couple Maurice and Ida, Ronnie a young pregnant women who has just been abandoned by her boyfriend and Jacob newly retired from cutting other people's lawns and practicing doing nothing, are brought together to help each other and try and tackle the problem themselves. They go into forest, they scare themselves, they shoot at shadows, Ida runs away, they crash the car going after her - it doesn't end well for Ronnie or Ida. Maurice and Jacob make a vow of silence, they drink whiskey, pay the bills, buy their groceries - waiting to be found out.
The characters were brilliant, the tension was real, but a lot of the story is too abstract. I felt like I needed a bit more development.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Haha. What? As usual w Winton I enjoyed the writing style. But homie was tryin some new stuff that didn’t really land for me unfortunately. It felt a bit too vague at times. The changing perspectives was fun and I liked how it made me have to work a little to understand the book, but there were times where I was just confused and felt like I had to play comprehension catch up. Def one of the darker books I’ve read subject matter wise. Eek
Uh yeah it's a no from me. Whilst the middle was okay, the beginning and end were really confusing. There was a lot more gore than I expected and it went into detail. Horror wasn't a particularly intriguing genre for me before I read this book and it's quite safe to say it definitely isn't after.