I mentioned this briefly in my procrastiblogging post from a million years ago but I have been reading a great Australian classic. This is for my year 12 lit class. I finished it. It was bad. This will be a not so official review of My Brilliant Career by Miles Franklin. It will be mostly complaining. I’m just being honest.
Sybylla is actually the most annoying person to read. She has that self-deprecating teenage inner monologue multiplied tenfold. It is insufferable.
“Hey, I’m kinda hot.”
“A wonderful guy likes me but I don’t want to get married.”
“I wish that guy would come and marry me.”
“No, I don’t want to marry you.”
Like honestly. Stop.
What. A. Skank.
Anyway, there are so many artsy descriptions of the bush. Like, it’s… the bush? Why must you constantly describe it? It’s trees and kangaroos. Like? As an Australian, speaking to the zero people who read this all around the globe, the bush isn’t that great. It’s mostly bugs and itchy grass. You’ll probably see dead kangaroo’s on the road. It’s not fun.
What is this fascination with Australia, anyhow? I get that we’re a weird little country but really, it’s just racism and slang. Who cares?
That’s not what is post is about. I’m getting distracted. Back to the book.
This is actual dialogue from the novel:
"I see you're not. You'd be game to tackle a pair of wild elephants, I know, but you must remember you're not much bigger than a sparrow sitting up there, and I won't let you go back by yourself." "You cannot stop me." "I can." "You can't." "I can." "You can't." "I can." "How?" "I'm going with you," he said. "You're not." "I am." "You're not." I am". "You ar-r-re not." "I am". "You are, ar-r-re not." "We'll see whether I will or not in a minute or two," he said with amusement.
Friggin’ nothing happens, she just moves around and complains. She messes with Harold who is a sweetheart and a half and chooses to be sad forever. There is a scene in which she accepts a marriage proposal and then whips the man in the face seconds later as he goes to kiss her. This is with a horsewhip mind you. Then she cries and he’s like, “it’s okay,” and then flipping blames himself. She still messes with him. The cow.
It’s meant to be a prototype feminist text but I can’t read it that way. It doesn’t really, as a whole, convey a positive and honest image of feminism. (That was a terrible sentence but you all know what I mean). It seems dishonest to call it feminist.
This book was actually the definition of frustrating. The film wasn’t much better but Sybylla was less annoying. Probably because they tried to make her the heroine and in doing so, at times, made Harold the villain.
The book sucked almost as much as this crappy blog post, 1/5 little rainbow paperclips. That might be a bit harsh maybe 2/5 little rainbow paperclips.
This is the quality content the sleep deprived and overly stressed author of this blog has to offer after not posting for a month. You. Are. Welcome.