'A jewel of a novel about an ageing potter who, out collecting rock for glazes, finds three kids living in a cave.
'He had closed the workshop door. Now it stood open. The woman was ahead of him, keen to get there, the constable was behind.'I'm sorry, I think they've gone.' 'I hope you're wrong, Mr Bass,' the woman said into the air. 'For their sake and yours.' Russell Bass is a master potter living and working near Katoomba, in the Blue Mountains. Eleven months ago his wife, Adele, died of a stroke. He is back again at the wheel. But his hold on the old deep habits is loosening, even on the habit of living itself. His signature glazes come from rock he collects from veins in a blind canyon below his house. In all the years he has been entering the canyon he has never seen a boot print other than his own. But on this autumn morning, two children are at the shallow pool he must pass to reach his rock, a girl of eight and a boy of five, playing boats with a saucepan and bucket. The children look underfed and wild. And this is no place to camp - sunless, remote. So what on earth are they doing here? And who sent them for water? He retreats with his questions unanswered. But he's back next morning with food in his pack. In prose of simple beauty which brings together clay, humour and deep insights into the need of humans for one another, Hare's Fur is a story of grief, kindness, art, and the bonds that can grow from the seeds of trust.' (Publication summary)
'Bad parents often make good literature: the egotistical and controlling Sam Pollit in Christina Stead’s tour-de-force The Man Who Loved Children; the abusive father and alcoholic mother in Edward St Aubyn’s masterful trilogy Some Hope; and, in William Faulkner’s gothic novel, As I Lay Dying, the cowardly and manipulative Anse Bundren who, among his many misdeeds, forces his pregnant teenage daughter to forgo her savings for an abortion so he can buy a set of new false teeth and attract a second wife.' (Introduction)
'Bad parents often make good literature: the egotistical and controlling Sam Pollit in Christina Stead’s tour-de-force The Man Who Loved Children; the abusive father and alcoholic mother in Edward St Aubyn’s masterful trilogy Some Hope; and, in William Faulkner’s gothic novel, As I Lay Dying, the cowardly and manipulative Anse Bundren who, among his many misdeeds, forces his pregnant teenage daughter to forgo her savings for an abortion so he can buy a set of new false teeth and attract a second wife.' (Introduction)
