I've wanted to read this book for years, but I'm glad I waited till I was at a stage in my life when I might appreciate it the most (though it wasn't deliberate). I didn't know anything about the story before I started except that it's a classic Australian novel, epic in scope, and was made into a mini-series or something starring Rachel Ward years ago. I like not knowing much about books before I read them, though: it leaves you wide-open for the story to be told, and absorbed.This is indeed an epic book. It spans three generations of the Cleary family, focusing mostly on Meggie. Starting in New Zealand on the day of her fourth birthday, The Thorn Birds follows the large family of Paddy and Fee and their children Frank, Bob, Jack, Hughie, Stuart, Meggie and baby Hal as they sail to Australia at the invitation of Paddy's wealthy land-owning sister Mary, who intends him to inherit the vast estate of Drogheda in northwest NSW. Even by Australian standards, it's a big farm: 250,000 acres, 80 miles across at its widest point, home to over 100,000 merino sheep.The Clearys, who had been poor farmhands in NZ, fall in love with Drogheda and learn the ways of the land, the climate, the weather, the animals, pretty quickly. The book is divided up into 7 sections titled Meggie 1915-1917; Ralph 1921-1928; Paddy 1929-1932; Luke 1933-1938; Fee 1938-1953; Dane 1954-1965; and Justine 1965-1969. These provide a slight focus, but the only characters who really dominate the story are Meggie, Ralph - the Catholic priest who falls in love with her - and Justine, Meggie's daughter by Luke.There is definitely tragedy in this book, but I never once found it depressing. It is similar in its structure to Gabriel Garcia Marquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude, but completely different, and successful in a way the latter book was not (for me): The Thorn Birds made me care. Each character is so beautifully rendered, as if they were indeed living people whose memories were captured by a light, non-judgemental hand. Every character evoked strong feelings in me, which changed as the characters changed. Luke, for instance, I wanted to throttle and ended up pitying. Meggie, in her naivete, was at times exasperating, yet she learned and I was proud of her for that - then angry, for the way she set Dane above Justine. Sometimes I absolutely hated Ralph and wanted to smack him; at other times I felt so deeply for him and his emotional turmoil.I can't get over how well written this book is. It is simply told, in an omniscient third-person voice, only sometimes, when needed, delving in deeper into the hearts and minds of the main characters to reveal their thoughts and feelings. The clashing perceptions people have are accurately portrayed, the poor judgements, bad decisions, mistakes - all so life-like, so real. Inferences, connections and insights can be deduced from hints in the story, but McCullough leaves a lot for the reader to realise on their own. And behind it all, like a glorious backdrop, the gorgeous landscape, so vivid and true. History and politics are there also: two world wars, the Depression, the Great Drought that ended when WWII ended, everything from clothing to attitudes to cars, as well as changing Australian slang, attitudes, the quirks - most of it slipping in unobtrusively, at other times pivotal to the plot.That there is a plot is undeniable: that it is noticeable, I doubt very much. I don't like to predict stories anyway - the only ones I do that to are unavoidable, like Steven Seagal movies - but there was very little in this book that I could have predicted had I tried. Maybe I'm just out of practice, but there was no sense of an author dictating or pushing the characters towards certain goals. A few things I could see coming, like Dane turning out just like his father, but even then it felt completely natural, not as though McCullough was manipulating the story.It seems funny, reading a book of extreme heat, drought, flies, fire, endless silvery grass while outside it's freezing, snowing, bleak. But I was utterly transported, and the only thing that jarred my pleasure was the strangeness of seeing American spelling and a couple of changed words amidst the Australian slang. Why, for instance, change "nappy" to "diaper" while leaving "mum" for "mom"? (As an aside, in general I really hate it when books from the UK and Australia, for instance, must undergo an Americanisation before being published in North America, whereas when books by US authors are published in Australia it's with the American spelling and all. That just doesn't seem fair! It seems pretty insulting to the Americans I've talked to, actually, but also patronising to us.) I think, though, regardless of whose decision that was, McCullough was writing to an international audience. She never intended this book to stagnate in Australia, as many works do which are "too difficult to understand" in other countries. She doesn't talk about crutching the dags on the sheep without explaining what crutching means and what dags are, or that the big lizards are called goannas and rabbits were introduced to Australia so that it would look a little more like England for the homesick settler - I know all this, but it was still interesting to read about it.If you're interested in reading about Australia (or just epic stories in general), this is a great book to start with. It's not even out-of-date, things change so slowly! Just picture stockmen flying helicopters around herds of cattle instead of riding, their properties are so humungous. The droughts are still there, the floods, the flies, the fires, the vernacular - though the Catholics have almost disappeared. The religion aspect of the novel is equally fascinating, and handled diplomatically as well. It is a book about ordinary people living ordinary lives, and sometimes deliberately causing themselves pain: hence the reference to the thorn bird, which pierces its breast on a rose thorn as it sings, and dies.
On the face of things, The Thornbirds wears the guise of a romance novel, the story of forbidden love, but that's only the novel's outward guise. I think anti-romance would be a better way to define this novel. In fact- in this way- The Thornbirds reminds me of the pulitzer-prize winning Lonesome Dove which- I would argue- is actually an anti-Western. Both The Thornbirds and Lonesome Dove find the outer reaches of their chosen genres (romance or western) and then push as far as they can, fighting and buckling against the constraints that the genres impose, standing theme and plot on their head and inventing a new world of literature.Both novels result in loaded, epic tomes, like some sort of Biblical whale that swallows everything in its path. So: The Thornbirds is epic (Australian) history, family psychology, feminism, theology, romance and anti-romance and melodramatic tragedy nearing Shakespearian ordinance. Oh, and solid, almost brilliant, use of the omniscient narrator in action.Let's break it down:History: The Thornbirds gives us a panoramic view of the development of Australia from just before World War I through the 1960's including wars, hard times, the development of technology, changing fashions and styles, and changing culture itself. These changes manifest or appear mostly in the background of the novel which is really focused on three generations of women of the Cleary family and the men who (would) love them, but make no mistake, this is also a novel about the land itself and how it is transformed both by nature and by people. In fact, one of the biggest characters in The Thorn Birds is Drogheda, the massive estate (and sheep farm) that plays a major role in the lives of four generations of people. If other parts of the world are transformed by mankind, Drogheda- which sits on the edge of the blazing Australian outback- is that which resists the march of progress. Any progress that comes must trickle in so as not to disturb the blazing heat, endless dust, dry lightning storms, and the needs of 125,00 merino sheep.Colleen McCullough is the author of The Thorn Birds, and as a writer, she brings a lot of good stuff to the table. One is her ability to report on natural and historic detail. Whether its describing an army of rabbits, sheep, "kangas", and emus racing to escape an outback brushfire (possibly one of the most frightening and menacing description of a landscape fire in literature) or describing General Montgomery's army advancing towards a wall of artillery fire in the North African desert (I told you this novel covers a lot of ground), McCullough has a gift for describing the big and small in brilliant, vibrant strokes.Beyond her ability to rend scenery in great detail, McCullough is also very good at presenting characters' inner psyches. I feel like McCullough is a smart observer and reporter of the human condition. Some great examples includes Fionna Cleary's tendency of favoring her boys over her sole daughter, Meg and- even further- favoring her first born son, Frank, more than the others. She does a fabulous job of blending this into the wool of story, showing how a mother's rationed love will effect each set of children differently, give them a different perspective on the world, and how that- in turn- changes other things and so on, a great domino effect. Other examples of this psychological examination include Father Ralph's intractable pride (possibly his greatest sin), or Justine's total fear of serious commitment. These are built elegantly into the plot, but one refreshing things is that McCullough is not afraid to also tell her readers exactly what the case is. She's not afraid to just come out and write a piece of exposition stating that Fionna Cleary has essentially no use or interest in having a daughter, or that Father Ralph will sell people out in his hunger for a career in the church. I think that it takes a certain boldness for writers to just come out and state something in the 3rd person omniscient, but McCullough is capable at pulling it off.Feminism: While not a feminist tract by any means (and that's good because novels that are blatantly political tend to be problematic), Thornbirds is not a story that shirks seeing its female characters developing across the generations. Spanning from proud Fionna who will never question her husband's (Paddy's) will, to Meggie who starts off as everyone's doormat but who eventually builds her own spine, to prickly Justine who is not giving up anything for anyone. McCoullough is smart enough to give each of the Cleary woman their own collection of merits and flaws. None of them are perfect, but it is heartening to see them reflect the slow progress for women since the end of the industrial era, and by the time we get to difficult/ contrary Justine (Meg's daughter) we can forgive her stubbornness because its been earned by the suffering of her mother and mother's mother.I also mentioned that this book is an anti-romance. What does that mean? Well, romance novels have a certain set of conventions that go with them, and we mostly expect them to end happily or with a tragedy that is counterweighed by immense spiritual uplift. True, it does have some hot romantic scenes between the very handsome Ralph and a beautiful Meggie and those scenes are tinged with burning desire and desperation and there is a deep sense of spiritual sacrifice (for Ralph, not so much for Meggie); however, without (hopefully) giving too much away, The Thorn Birds give us neither the happy ending nor the transcendent tragedy. Instead the end is a jigsaw puzzle of bittersweet riddles. It seems, in some ways, everyone gets what they want, but not what they need, and that's not good. So if you always get what you want and not what you need, then your victories ring hollow, or there is a lack of soul in there or something lack that. Ergo, the book bucks the conventions of romance and travels it's own enigmatic route.
Do You like book The Thorn Birds (2003)?
One of the faintest memories I have of my childhood, is watching my Mom and Grandmother watch the miniseries, The Thorn Birds. At the time (around 3 years of age I would think), I didn't *understand* why they seemed so broken hearted, yet enchanted by what they were watching unfold on screen. I remember vaguely, the image of a priest in love with a young girl, a vast landscape, and an actor who went by the name of Chamberlain. That's all. Fast forward 10 around 12 years. After I finished the epic scope of the brilliant Gone With the Wind, I was craving a romantic epic to satisfy the longing I felt for GWTW. Amazon tells me that those who read Gone With the Wind, also enjoyed a novel "The Thorn Birds". Ah, so the infamous title comes back to me, and after my Mom practically shoved the book in my hands, I gave it a go. Read during the summer, I eagerly stayed up nights on end, inviting myself into the Cleary household, against the sweltering heat of the Australian outback. I was reunited with vaguely familiar friends, including the romantic "anti hero" Ralph de Bricassart, who looks after the hardworking Cleary family, and forms a special attachment to their youngest, most imaginatively driven daughter, Meggie. Anyone with a shred of intuition can instantly interpret and understand the relationship between Ralph and Meggie. Both years apart, they share the same longing for passion that both can seemingly never have. Ralph is a priest, but above all else, he is stubborn. Determinedely stubbon, that he would rather risk a life of fulfilliment to conquer his worldy ambitions. And so, one of the most ill-fated romantic stories in modern fiction begins. Colleen McCullough has an epic imagination, and a keen eye for details, so much so, that as readers we feel that we're residing in Australia, in the dusty perils of the 1900's, all the way to the 1970's. The Cleary family saga is both epic, and tragic, with each character having a certain passage of the novel clearly devoted to their backstory. However, the chunk of the story belongs to the unrequited love of Meggie Cleary and her beloved Father Ralph. A life without her Priest results in stumbles of naivety, disillusion and cynicism. While all the while, the blood thirsty ambition of Ralph haunts him for the rest of his days. I recommend this novel to anyone who likes to indulge in a romantic, fun epic that quite literally spans the decades.
—Sarah
He he, very funny ;)I just got a text back from her, and she's in the middle of it and is loving it. She says I will have to rip it from her hands! Guess I'll be a good girl and wait...
—Candace
The thorn birds is a very interesting novel and a good story..However if i love this novel ,i found the first chapter "Meggie"very long and boring.I think that this chapter wasn't necessary for the saga and Meggie was 4 years old at the beginning not 9.She was a very little girl and some passages are useless.I found the book interesting at the second chapter called"Ralph" because the miniseries on Tv starts with Ralph when Meggie is 9 years old and arrives at Drogheda with her family.I spent hours and hours with this book..oh my god! And i must confess that i had a big crush for Ralph in the book and in the series..god forgive me! Lol.However i think that Meggie wasted her life waiting for Ralph because she knew he was a priest and she was very stubborn. This shows that it is never good to be stubborn when you know that something is quite impossible.The very good point is that Meggie repeated her mother's mistakes too and that family secrets can destroy lives. I also am convinced that many families bear secrets ..So this book shows the necessity to talk for a better life..
—Laura
