Felicity MacLean

1992, and an early, searing Australian summer. In a small river valley town outside of Sydney, the three Van Apfel sisters – Hannah, Cordelia and Ruth – disappear during the yearly outdoor “Showstopper” concert organised by their school. All the community is marked by this disturbing occurrence, and none more so than eleven-year old Tikka – the narrator of this novel – and her older sister Laura, close friends of the Van Apfel girls. Twenty years later, back home from America where she now works, Tikka recalls the fateful events of that hot summer, and rekindles old doubts which have never really gone away.

The premise of this novel is not terribly original. The “disappearing person” has now gone beyond being a “trope” and could well be considered a thriller sub-genre. Some readers have compared this novel to Reservoir 13, others to Picnic at Hanging Rock, not least because of its Australian context. Given the particular details of the narrative – three sisters from a religiously conservative family who (possibly?) meet a tragic end, the coming-of-age element, a narrator revisiting memories of a terrible occurrence – one would be forgiven for suspecting that the author was inspired also by The Virgin Suicides.

So, did we really need this new novel? In my view, yes. First of all, it is very well crafted and intelligently paced. I’ve read some very good books over the past months, but this is the one I would most comfortably describe as a “page-turner”. This is no mean feat, considering that we are made aware from very early on that we’ll never fully know the solution to the mystery.

Besides, despite its parallels to other novels, The Van Apfel Girls are Gone has got its own idiosyncrasies. In this respect, it’s interesting to compare it to The Virgin Suicides. The latter novel is narrated by one of a group of young men besotted with the “virgins” of the title, and as a result, it has an underlying aura of decadent (and slightly disturbing) eroticism expressed in text of a febrile, poetic intensity. On the contrary, McLean’s novel is both darker and also more down-to-earth. Its narrator is endearing – it is clear that it is the older Tikka who is speaking, channeling memories of her younger self. Despite the traumatic events described and the collective guilt which seems to have affected all the community, there is also a palpable sense of nostalgia particularly in the scenes between Tikka and her parents, a stark contrast with the Van Apfels. These ‘homely moments’ and a playful sense of humour surface against the odds, but the novel is also edgy, consistently evoking feelings of menace and dread. Some plot details seem to have crept in from a Gothic novel – a Bible-thumping violent father, the continuous oppressive heat, an unexplained stench coming from the river. There are also little flourishes which are not central to the story, but which serve to raise adrenaline levels – in one particular scene Tikka injures her foot and soon after, a search dog dies on the spot after being bitten by a snake. In another, a group of girls are spooked out after a Ouija board session. Dangers – human, natural and, potentially supernatural – seem to lurk everywhere.

What I liked best about this novel however is that it gave me a sense of total immersion. I have never been to Australia, and yet during the time I spent reading the book, I felt a part of this community, sharing its fears, guilt and hope and, like busybody Mrs McCausley, playing the amateur detective. I will miss the Van Apfel Girls now that they’re gone.

A full review, together with a selection of Australian classical music can be found at http://endsoftheword.blogspot.com/2019/03/summertime-sadness-van-apfel-girls.htm...… (mehr)

1992, and an early, searing Australian summer. In a small river valley town outside of Sydney, the three Van Apfel sisters – Hannah, Cordelia and Ruth – disappear during the yearly outdoor “Showstopper” concert organised by their school. All the community is marked by this disturbing occurrence, and none more so than eleven-year old Tikka – the narrator of this novel – and her older sister Laura, close friends of the Van Apfel girls. Twenty years later, back home from America where she now works, Tikka recalls the fateful events of that hot summer, and rekindles old doubts which have never really gone away.

The premise of this novel is not terribly original. The “disappearing person” has now gone beyond being a “trope” and could well be considered a thriller sub-genre. Some readers have compared this novel to Reservoir 13, others to Picnic at Hanging Rock, not least because of its Australian context. Given the particular details of the narrative – three sisters from a religiously conservative family who (possibly?) meet a tragic end, the coming-of-age element, a narrator revisiting memories of a terrible occurrence – one would be forgiven for suspecting that the author was inspired also by The Virgin Suicides.

So, did we really need this new novel? In my view, yes. First of all, it is very well crafted and intelligently paced. I’ve read some very good books over the past months, but this is the one I would most comfortably describe as a “page-turner”. This is no mean feat, considering that we are made aware from very early on that we’ll never fully know the solution to the mystery.

Besides, despite its parallels to other novels, The Van Apfel Girls are Gone has got its own idiosyncrasies. In this respect, it’s interesting to compare it to The Virgin Suicides. The latter novel is narrated by one of a group of young men besotted with the “virgins” of the title, and as a result, it has an underlying aura of decadent (and slightly disturbing) eroticism expressed in text of a febrile, poetic intensity. On the contrary, McLean’s novel is both darker and also more down-to-earth. Its narrator is endearing – it is clear that it is the older Tikka who is speaking, channeling memories of her younger self. Despite the traumatic events described and the collective guilt which seems to have affected all the community, there is also a palpable sense of nostalgia particularly in the scenes between Tikka and her parents, a stark contrast with the Van Apfels. These ‘homely moments’ and a playful sense of humour surface against the odds, but the novel is also edgy, consistently evoking feelings of menace and dread. Some plot details seem to have crept in from a Gothic novel – a Bible-thumping violent father, the continuous oppressive heat, an unexplained stench coming from the river. There are also little flourishes which are not central to the story, but which serve to raise adrenaline levels – in one particular scene Tikka injures her foot and soon after, a search dog dies on the spot after being bitten by a snake. In another, a group of girls are spooked out after a Ouija board session. Dangers – human, natural and, potentially supernatural – seem to lurk everywhere.

What I liked best about this novel however is that it gave me a sense of total immersion. I have never been to Australia, and yet during the time I spent reading the book, I felt a part of this community, sharing its fears, guilt and hope and, like busybody Mrs McCausley, playing the amateur detective. I will miss the Van Apfel Girls now that they’re gone.

A full review, together with a selection of Australian classical music can be found at http://endsoftheword.blogspot.com/2019/03/summertime-sadness-van-apfel-girls.htm...… (mehr)

I'm really torn on this book. I loved the atmosphere McLean created in this small Australian town, where everyone knows everyone's business but pretends they don't. Truly perfect for those who like Picnic at Hanging Rock. The Virgin Suicides, and Top of the Lake for sure (or any dreamy scenario where things are boiling just under the surface).

McLean's atmosphere is truly perfect - you can really feel the oppressive heat that Tikka and the girls feel that long confusing summer, as well as their horror and reluctance and fear when they talk about Mr. Van Apfel. For such a tragedy that nonetheless happened years ago, it makes perfect sense that different characters would have different wrong memories of the event, but no one would have a clear easy answer to what happened.

But what really disgusted me is how cowardly everyone was. I can understand Tikka and Lauren keeping silent when Mr. Van Apfel slaps Ruth - it shocks them and doesn't seem too severe. But when it comes out that nearly everybody knew what was happening to these girls, adults and children, and Laura knew that Cordie was pregnant... well, that's when I couldn't suspend my disbelief anymore. When it gets that bad, that obvious, you need to say something. The whole town let those girls down, and it was all avoidable. I can stomach a few people staying silent out of respect of politeness, but it truly feels like they're all responsible here. Maybe that's the point.… (mehr)