In her new book The Minstrels, celebrated South Australian author Eva Hornug explores the collision of First Nations culture and settler colonialism, and how language can provide more than simple signifiers, but rituals of connection and respect.

Itâs been ten years since Eva Hornungâs extraordinary Dog Boy, originally published in 2009, was reprinted as a Text Classic, with an introduction by Booker prize-winning author Yann Martel (Life of Pi), and nine years since Text put out her last novel, The Last Garden. So itâs fair to say fans have been waiting, wondering if the celebrated South Australian writer can pull off another prize-winning book as good as the last two. Let me backtrack here and state that Hornung used to publish under the surname Sallis, and those books did remarkably well â particularly her debut novel Hiam, which won the 1997Â Vogel Literary Award â but I donât think itâs unfair to say Dog Boy changed more than her alphabetical positioning on bookstoresâ shelves. Her latest novel, The Minstrels, proves that Hornung remains a force in Australiaâs literary landscape.
Before we meet Gem, the bookâs protagonist, we meet the chasm and pool thatâll be central to the bookâs plot, and will give the book its title. With fable-like language, the Minstrels âsings and sighs with a sound signature all of its own. It draws us to speak, to inscribe ourselvesâ. And so it is the location of a breaking â emotionally for Gem and physically for her brother, Will. But itâs not until page 111 that the breaking happens, and the narrative begins a true trajectory. In the bookâs skilful early pages, Hornung builds the character of Gem patiently and with some cheek, while painting colourful pictures of her family dynamic and the farm where she grows up and the community surrounding it and, vitally, the Minstrels. Thereâs a long description of a mice infestation that seems to have not much to do with where we, as readers, want to go, but in Hornungâs deft telling, weâre already there. Itâs Gemâs world, not just her story, that makes The Minstrels the book that it is, and itâs this swelling of introduction that makes the first sectionâs climax all the more explosive, fully investing us and preparing us for section two, where Gemâs world expands even more, despite her near-hermit status.
Set in a time and place not unfamiliar but also unplaceable, a lot happens in The Minstrels, so much that the storyline meanders in the way the river that leads to and away from the Minstrels does. Gem becomes a farmer, rigorously self-reliant. She meets the eccentric Uncle Jim, a local First Nations Elder  who âshook hands with her from a distance, skin touch tentative, faintly unwillingâ and he becomes a teacher of language to Gem, changing the course of her life and enriching her relationship with the land.
âHer tongue wrestled with sounds it had never tried to make, her ears strained to discriminate between vowels that of necessity looked the same on the page and her face contorted as she struggled. Trees she had seen since childhood, noticed only when they dropped limbs and changed dramatically, now reached out towards her for their old names, seeming changed, charged with some new and uncomfortable identity. Ngawarla.â
She has a run-in with some young vegan activists and befriends the one she nicknames Little Bull. She kills sick animals. She plants trees in spiral patterns. She uses a scalpel to bring a baby boy into the world. Gemâs world is rich and always surprising.
Taking place over a lifetime spent, the novel is vast, proving a single setting can provide as much adventure as a person will ever need. As she writes about learning the originary language of the land â which Hornung herself has spent much of her adult life doing â âEvery bird, valley, shadow, peak, lizard, cloud, weather cell, star; everything on her farm had a nameâ. And an energy. And a point of connection. Also something Hornung proves: a woman can choose to distance herself from her parents, siblings, aunts and uncles, can choose to not partner and not have children, and still give and feel love in abundance. True, Gemâs connection to land and animals is pivotal to her coping with past trauma and to her mere existence, but the value of human connection cannot be underestimated.
Yes, The Minstrels lives up to its predecessors, and it could very well become another Text Classic.
The Minstrels (Text Publishing) by Eva Hornung is out now
Â
Want to see more stories from InDaily SA in your Google search results?
This article may be shared online or in print under a Creative Commons licence