Rhyll McMaster

Rhyll McMaster knows how to rivet her readers’ attention. The opening scene in Feather Man depicts Sooky, the pre-adolescent protagonist, being molested by Lionel, the creepy pedophile next door. It’s no accident that this is our introduction to Sooky, because it’s this abuse that shapes Sooky’s entire story – her adult behavior, her relationships with men, her sense of self-worth.

The story is narrated by Sooky, looking back on her childhood in dusty suburban Brisbane, where she is neglected by disinterested parents and pawned off on Lionel (dubbed “Feather Man” by the girl because of his brood of hens), an elderly neighbor with a bedridden wife. Despite feeling ashamed of the sexual abuse, she also craves his attention because it is the only time she is made to feel special. Her mother is a stereotypical shrill harridan and her father, whom she dotes on, is a vaguely disinterested adulterer.

As Sooky matures, McMaster gives the reader glimpses into the great divide between how she views herself and how the world perceives her. As a young adult, she becomes a rather prolific artist and begins to find modest success. But she doesn’t seem to express any particular passion for her art and then blithely abandons it for marriage to a rival artist – Lionel’s equally creepy son Redmond. And yet her work, which is described in detail, sounds arresting and unique. Outwardly, Sooky, like her artwork, displays the brash bravado of a rebel, but inside she isn’t particularly impressed with herself, frequently deferring to the whims of the mediocre men in her life. In her own mind, she is secondary to them, so much so that even in her own life story the chapters are entitled Lionel, Peter, Redmond and Paul.

I found this one a tough go in parts. The main character has an almost laissez faire attitude about her own best interests; there is little rage or self-pity and, for a reader, it feels a bit maddening. Yet there’s enough oddball humor to keep the proceedings afloat. One particularly memorable scene involves Sooky inadvertently lighting her veil on fire at her wedding reception, causing a sensation and landing her in the paper – only to be met with outrage by her husband for upstaging him.

McMaster is a wonderful writer. She evokes a very tangible sense of place - from the stifling backwater of Brisbane to the grotty bohemia of the London art world. Plus all of the secondary characters are nuanced and believable. But Sooky is certainly her masterwork. In her, McMaster has created a difficult, contradictory, infuriating, funny and admirable protagonist. Truly one of most believable characters I’ve come across in fiction.… (altro)

Rhyll McMaster is obviously a very talented writer; her prose is wonderful and descriptive and a joy to read. The book, however, was impossible for me. Regardless of the great writing the story itself was much too dark for me to enjoy. It made me feel awful to read about the young protagonist and her troubles, and I finally had to put it down. I've always prided myself on my ability to finish every book I start, but I simply couldn't do it with this book. Perhaps if I give it some time and return to it, I'll feel differently about it, but for now it's going to have to sit on my shelf and wait.… (altro)