What do you think?
Rate this book
Ethel: a love story
Part fiction, part biography, this recreation of the life of the author's grandmother, Ethel Howat, provides information about Australian high society from the 1880s to WWII. It traces Ethel's involvement in literature and politics and her marriage and family life. The author's other works include 'Rain in the Distance' and 'Australians Today'
323 pages, Hardcover
First published October 1, 1996
1 person is currently reading
7 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 of 1 review
December 30, 2014
The dust jacket says: “From the rich and shadowy interior of an old house overlooking Sydney Harbour, a granddaughter recreates in her imagination the elusive story of the grandmother she never met.” But Ethel: a love story is so much more than that. It is a glimpse into the world of a wealthy and privileged Sydney woman.
Suzanne Falkiner’s grandmother was a Sydney socialite. Her photograph was taken by Harold Cazneaux. Her grazier husband owned several properties; she lived in a beautiful house and regularly wore a lot of expensive jewellery. But was she happy? Ah, now that’s the question and here’s another, “Who was she really?” Falkiner asks these questions and many more.
As she explains in the acknowledgements at the beginning of the book, “This story describes events that happened, that might have happened, and that someone at some point wished to believe had happened.” And here is the crux of this challenging book - it crosses a lot of boundaries.
Although Ethel: a love story is about one woman trying to discover more about her family, it is not a how to book of tracing your family tree. It will, though, give the reader who wants to do so, a real idea of the challenges ahead. As Falkiner explains, “In researching family history one is inevitably directed to male achievements, for it is these that survive most readily on paper. The university degrees, military decorations and sporting certificates, company records and minutes of board meetings, newspaper articles, and photographs and finally if the career is thought to be successful, the tactful obituary with its judicious allowance of lines....For women there are generally fewer material records; their achievements do not take place in the public eye. Perhaps a few personal letters and snapshots escape the flames of the backyard incinerator....Officially there is the birth certificate, the marriage certificate; and thereafter until the death certificate, sometimes only an anonymous presence behind the title of “Mrs John Smith” or a brief entry under “Dependants” or “Others in Household” on a bureaucratic form.” Depressing stuff but true.
The author follows her grandmother’s early life very thoroughly, charting an early voyage to New York, her marriage and four children and her husband’s various properties and political career. Along the way we read about Falkiner’s experiences hunting down these facts, also her speculations about and frustrations with her grandmother.
Most interestingly for this reader, she also struggles to come to terms with the fact that her grandmother is a failed writer. Ethel’s prose is often either overblown or stilted and unnatural. For myself I am frustrated that she didn’t help the plight of other women writers by reviewing their work. She was a well respected society matron and it is possible that she could have got some reviews published. Instead her comments on various books she read remain just pencil marks on the pages.
This is a fascinating look into Australian high society from the 1880s to World War II. Recommended for history lovers.
Suzanne Falkiner’s grandmother was a Sydney socialite. Her photograph was taken by Harold Cazneaux. Her grazier husband owned several properties; she lived in a beautiful house and regularly wore a lot of expensive jewellery. But was she happy? Ah, now that’s the question and here’s another, “Who was she really?” Falkiner asks these questions and many more.
As she explains in the acknowledgements at the beginning of the book, “This story describes events that happened, that might have happened, and that someone at some point wished to believe had happened.” And here is the crux of this challenging book - it crosses a lot of boundaries.
Although Ethel: a love story is about one woman trying to discover more about her family, it is not a how to book of tracing your family tree. It will, though, give the reader who wants to do so, a real idea of the challenges ahead. As Falkiner explains, “In researching family history one is inevitably directed to male achievements, for it is these that survive most readily on paper. The university degrees, military decorations and sporting certificates, company records and minutes of board meetings, newspaper articles, and photographs and finally if the career is thought to be successful, the tactful obituary with its judicious allowance of lines....For women there are generally fewer material records; their achievements do not take place in the public eye. Perhaps a few personal letters and snapshots escape the flames of the backyard incinerator....Officially there is the birth certificate, the marriage certificate; and thereafter until the death certificate, sometimes only an anonymous presence behind the title of “Mrs John Smith” or a brief entry under “Dependants” or “Others in Household” on a bureaucratic form.” Depressing stuff but true.
The author follows her grandmother’s early life very thoroughly, charting an early voyage to New York, her marriage and four children and her husband’s various properties and political career. Along the way we read about Falkiner’s experiences hunting down these facts, also her speculations about and frustrations with her grandmother.
Most interestingly for this reader, she also struggles to come to terms with the fact that her grandmother is a failed writer. Ethel’s prose is often either overblown or stilted and unnatural. For myself I am frustrated that she didn’t help the plight of other women writers by reviewing their work. She was a well respected society matron and it is possible that she could have got some reviews published. Instead her comments on various books she read remain just pencil marks on the pages.
This is a fascinating look into Australian high society from the 1880s to World War II. Recommended for history lovers.
Displaying 1 of 1 review