'A powerfully told, gripping novel of family, guilt, empire, and race set in the dusty, deserted outback of Queensland in the 1880s. Tommy McBride and his brother Billy return to the isolated family home to find their parents have been brutally murdered. Haunted and alone, their desperate search for the killers leads them to the charismatic and deadly Inspector Noone and his Queensland Native Police - an infamous arm of colonial power whose sole purpose is the 'dispersal' of Indigenous Australians in protection of settler rights.
'The retribution that follows will not only devastate Tommy and his relationship with his brother, but leave a terrible and lasting mark on the colony and the country it later becomes.
'This is a stunning debut from a major new talent.' (Publication summary)
A brief review of this work appeared in The New York Times 9 December 2018
'This article proposes the idea of the “colonial compulsion”, or an impulse for completion, neatness, and order, and argues that this urge is a motor that drives much literature that focuses on crime and cartography. Through readings of Brian Friel’s play Translations (1980) and Paul Haworth’s novel Only Killers and Thieves (2018), I make the case that crime narratives and depictions of mapping share the same root, that we read and enjoy crime stories for the same reason we find maps satisfying: because we wish to “solve” the crime in the same way we wish to see the “blank spaces” of the map inked in. “An act of geographical violence” holds that the type of contemporary literature which ties together cartography, crime, and colonialism urges the reader to think through and against colonial and modern-day systems of oppression. Ultimately, this article puts forth a sustained case for performing readings that deliberately intertwine the subjects of crime, cartography, and colonialism and for seriously examining the framework of the colonial compulsion.' (Publication abstract)
'It’s 1885 and Tommy McBride and his big brother Billy live with their parents on a hardscrabble cattle ranch in Central Queensland: “Two boys, not quite men, tiny in a landscape withered by drought.” The ranch is failing, and the boys blame Dad – worn down with bad luck and drink, especially compared with Sullivan, the more prosperous squatter-baron up the road.' (Introduction)
'It’s 1885 and Tommy McBride and his big brother Billy live with their parents on a hardscrabble cattle ranch in Central Queensland: “Two boys, not quite men, tiny in a landscape withered by drought.” The ranch is failing, and the boys blame Dad – worn down with bad luck and drink, especially compared with Sullivan, the more prosperous squatter-baron up the road.' (Introduction)
'This article proposes the idea of the “colonial compulsion”, or an impulse for completion, neatness, and order, and argues that this urge is a motor that drives much literature that focuses on crime and cartography. Through readings of Brian Friel’s play Translations (1980) and Paul Haworth’s novel Only Killers and Thieves (2018), I make the case that crime narratives and depictions of mapping share the same root, that we read and enjoy crime stories for the same reason we find maps satisfying: because we wish to “solve” the crime in the same way we wish to see the “blank spaces” of the map inked in. “An act of geographical violence” holds that the type of contemporary literature which ties together cartography, crime, and colonialism urges the reader to think through and against colonial and modern-day systems of oppression. Ultimately, this article puts forth a sustained case for performing readings that deliberately intertwine the subjects of crime, cartography, and colonialism and for seriously examining the framework of the colonial compulsion.' (Publication abstract)