Ava, “Shu Yi”
Right there are two characters. Ava is really the protagonist of the story which bears Shu Yi’s name as the title, however. That could be attributed to the fact that she is the first-person narrator of this look back at the halcyon days of 1992 when one could write that “Salt-N-Pepa were all over the airwaves” without being ironic. Ava is caught up—not so much my choice—in the social construct of her community, one of those places where “everyone-knows-everyone-else’s-business-and-can-I- borrow-a-cup-milk-for-the-kids’-breakfast.” It just so happens this Beaver Cleaver town is in Australia. The sudden arrival of the exotic Shu Yi at her school becomes one of the collections many tipping points for its myriad cast of characters.
Asanka, “The Stilt Fishermen of Kathaluwa”
First off, Asanka is not one of the fishermen. Asanka is a refugee who has landed in Australia at a time when government detention of such immigrants was mandatory according to federal law. Just a teenager, he has already borne witness to more depravation and degradation than any senior citizen should have to experience. His saga intertwines with that of Loretta, recently of the Asylum Seekers’ Support Centre at the request of her somewhat reactionary husband. Communication, the hindrances that obstruct it and the paths toward reconciliation are dominant themes throughout many of the stories of this collection and it is the inability of Asanka to communicate that results in arguably the most incendiary act of the entire volume. It is a metaphor of lack of communication made shocking literal.
Avery, “The Sukiyaki Book Club”
The cast of character populating this collection of stories is diverse even as they share many attributes as well. One of the most idiosyncratically interesting of the lot is Avery. Avery is seven, a smallish girl who can tie her shoelaces and almost ride her bike. As this story opens, Avery is, like any seven year old, hanging from the monkey bars, upside down. The problem is she doesn’t know how to extricate herself safely from this unfortunate circumstance. That alone would make Avery fairly interesting, but what lifts her to the next level is that Avery is a character in a story being written by a character who actually populates the story. She is a fiction within a fiction. But she is no less real for that fact of life.
Mirabel, “Aviation”
Of all the many fascinating characters whom the reader meets at turning points in their lives—moments both big and small that nevertheless will leave the characters changed in a fundamental ways—perhaps Mirabel’s story is the most chilling; it is a story about the consequences of 9/11 felt on complete opposite side of the globe. Her story begins innocently enough—mundane and utterly prosaic, even—with an image that only becomes startling upon reflection. On the surface, upon first reading, it certainly qualifies as the least interesting introduction to any character in the stories:
“Mirabel plumps up the couch cushions, quickly turns over the one with the tiny stain on it, and adjusts it back into place.”
That’s okay, however. She’ll survive that indignity because the indignity she won’t survive is also being the character given the most unforgettable exit scene of her story
“She’s right inside the nose of the beast now, can see over the pilot’s shoulder. There are men yelling things in a language she can’t understand. The plane is suspended in time, hovering wasplike.”
