This book has been on my list since it won the Stella Prize in 2016, and thanks to AusReading Month–hosted by Brona@BronasBooks–I finally read it.
The Natural Way of Things was inspired by a documentary the author watched about The Hay Institution for Girls: ten women were taken there and brutalized for being the “ten worst girls in the state.” Wood says, “many of the women had ended up in the Hay because they were victims of sexual abuse and had spoken up about what had happened to them.” (Source)
Knowing this connection with true events makes the book that much more powerful.
Ten women have been stolen from their lives, brought to an isolated spot somewhere in the Australian outback. They don’t know why, they don’t know where, they don’t know what’s going to happen, and they don’t know for how long. But they soon learn that they are all connected to sex scandals and that they are hated.
What would people in their old lives be saying about these girls? Would they be called ‘missing?’ Would some documentary program on TV that nobody watched, or one of those thin newspapers nobody read, somehow connect their cases, find the thread to make them a story? The Lost Girls, they would be called. Would it be said they ‘disappeared,’ ‘were lost’? Would it be said they were abandoned or taken, the way people said a girl was attacked, a woman was raped, this femaleness always at the center, as if womanhood itself were the cause of these things? As if the girls somehow, through the natural way of things, did it to themselves. They lured abduction and abandonment to themselves, they marshaled themselves into this prison where they had made their beds, and now, once more, were lying in them.
Their captors are nasty and brutal, and the hard labour intense. Some of the women dream of escape and violence toward their captors. But, despite the fact that the women far outnumber the men, they learn to keep silent and do their work. But when time stretches on and on, and it becomes apparent no one is coming to rescue them or bring more supplies, the women realize something needs to change or they will starve.
Every now and then Verla imagines her old self coming across this scene, across her own present self: her bony ribs, her matted hair, her coated teeth. The filthy greasy calico dress, something out of the nineteenth century. The bucket of rabbit heads beside her: staring eyes, stiff ears, the gory ragged hems of their necks. Her easy familiarity with all these things, as if she was born to this handling of little bodies like slippery new babies, flipping and turning the creatures as casually as the folding of pillowslips. The nimble plucking out of heart and liver and guts.
The Natural Way of Things has been called “The Handmaid’s Tale of our age.” I don’t suppose it’s because the stories are similar – but more because they are both strong “speculative fiction” with themes of patriarchy and misogyny.
Both novels create a world in which there are very few people you can trust; you have to watch what you say and do, and to whom you say and do it. Not only are the men untrustworthy, but many of the women as well – some still trying to gain favour with their captors in any way they can, thereby perpetuating the patriarchy.
The complexity of Wood’s characters and their circumstances make this a suspenseful and compulsive read.
Can anyone recommend any other books by Charlotte Wood?
What other books have you read that have been compared to The Handmaid’s Tale?
19 thoughts on “#AusReadingMonth: The Natural Way of Things by Charlotte Wood”
This is one of the outstanding Australian books of the past few years, not so much in its writing as in its ideas. It should be a compulsory text for schoolboys – to make them understand how women are blamed for what men do to them.
I found it especially interesting that, instead of bonding together to overtake the two men, the ten women turned inward and became submissive. Even the two men as captors were interesting characters – both very different men put in the same position.
I prefer Charlotte Wood’s early work to her later novels, and you can see my reviews of them here: https://anzlitlovers.com/category/writers-aust-nz-in-capitals/wood-charlotte/
Thanks, Lisa! I’ll have a look! Do you have a favourite?
I have yet to read this one Naomi. Once upon a time I devoured angry-lit, but I struggle to go there now. My favourite Wood to date, is one of her non-fiction pieces called Love and Hunger, a foodie book about cooking as an act of love (http://bronasbooks.blogspot.com/2012/07/love-and-hunger-and-high-tea-by.html).
Thanks for joining in AusReading Month 🙂
I’m so happy I managed to join in this year!
I didn’t know she wrote a foodie book – this one is definitely going on my list!
This sounds great Naomi! I didn’t realise that Wood was Australian. I have her latest novel The Weekend to read and I’ve heard great things.
I’ve just read Lisa’s review of The Weekend – it sounds great! Enjoy!
This sounds like such a tough read, Naomi, particularly given its connection with reality. I’ve not read anything by Wood but have a copy of The Weekend on my TBR
Learning the connection of the book with the true story made a difference in my reaction to the book, actually – I had been thinking it sounded a little far-fetched, but now I know better (unfortunately).
Looking forward to your thoughts on The Weekend!
Whoo boy, this sounds like good but difficult reading. Still I’m sort of drawn to it!
I know exactly what you mean! 😉
Glad you got to read this, Naomi. She’s one of my favourite writers and I’ve read all her books. They are all reviewed on my blog. Unfortunately only her two most recent books are published outside of Australia so you might have difficulty tracking down her early work. I loved The Submerged Cathedral about a woman who grows a native garden to heal her traumas. All my reviews are here: https://readingmattersblog.com/category/author/charlotte-wood/
That would explain why, when I looked her up at the library, only her two latest books showed up. Too bad!
Oh wow this books sounds really intense and difficult to read. Almost like a grittier version of the Handmaid’s Tale, but I find Australian literature in general tends to be a bit more visceral than Canadian stuff…
I don’t read enough of it to know, but it would be fun to look more closely into that (if I had the time!).
Gritty is a good word for this book. Feral and bloody are a couple of others.
This one is on my TBR (maybe thanks to Whispering Gum or ANZLitLovers or Wad) so I’m skimming the middle of your post. Normally I like the Europa covers, but, in this case, the other cover is so striking that it makes the Europa cover seem pallid.
I like them both, though, for different reasons!