Iris

I love a good character-driven novel, those books that bring a reader right up close to a single actor and fix that person in the reader’s mind forevermore. Iris Webber, the subject of Fiona Kelly McGregor’s Iris, just joined some of my literary heroines. This book is exceptional. I don’t think it will be possible for me ever to forget its namesake, based on a real historical figure of some repute from the rough fringes of 1930s Sydney, who has been the subject of the author’s interest for many years. We learn in the first pages that Iris is being charged with murder, but before we learn her fate, we travel with Iris from Glen Innes to the streets of Sydney where she is determined to find her fortune, or at least to make ends meet in the thrill of the big city. She is in and out of trouble with the law almost as soon as she arrives, and while the cycle of poverty and crime takes her into some dangerous territory, she finds freedom in independence, as well as friends and lovers of her own choosing. Life was brutal in these times; the women needed extra fortitude.

Iris is as much a character study as it is a perfectly rendered re-creation of a time and place. The author’s exhaustive research brings the suburbs of Sydney, its people and language to the page with such care and affection. The voices sounded so very clear to me as I read: many vernacular turns of phrase that some readers might remember from their grandparents’ generation are brought back to life here. At the same time, McGregor does not shy away from the violence of some of that same language, and I recommend reading the author’s note to add context. This book had me in its clutches for an unusually long time. I think that’s because I didn’t want to let it – or Iris – go.

Alison Huber is the head buyer at Readings.