Review of Alexis Wright's Satire

Alexis Wright, a celebrated voice from Australia’s Waanyi nation in the Gulf of Carpentaria, has a knack for weaving Indigenous stories with sharp social insights, as seen in her earlier works like Carpentaria and The Swan Book. Her 2023 novel, Praiseworthy, published by Giramondo Publishing, is a bold, sprawling epic set in a fictional Aboriginal town in northern Australia. It’s a literary heavyweight, clinching the 2024 Miles Franklin Award and Stella Prize, among others. The book dives into the chaos of climate change, colonial scars, and Indigenous resilience, using a mix of satire, magical realism, and oral storytelling. Its core idea is that Indigenous

knowledge and imagination are powerful tools to tackle ecological and cultural crises, pushing back against Western ways of seeing the world: “The sovereignty of mind and imagination cannot be taken away”. This is a wake-up call, showing the ground reality of communities fighting to hold on to their identity. For Indian readers, the story’s focus on cultural pride and resistance hits home, especially for those dealing with societal pressures and systemic challenges. Wright’s prose, rich and immersive, feels like a friend sharing a deep, meaningful tale over a cup of chai, pulling you into a world where hope and struggle coexist.

Praiseworthy unfolds in a dusty Aboriginal town under a strange, ochre-coloured haze cloud that looms like a warning of climate disaster and ancestral presence. Spanning over 700 pages, the novel follows the Steel family—Cause Man Steel (nicknamed Widespread), his wife Dance, and their sons, Aboriginal Sovereignty and Tommyhawk. It’s a wild ride, blending magical realism, biting satire, and Indigenous storytelling to tackle big issues: climate change, colonial oppression, and the fight to preserve cultural identity. Wright draws on Aboriginal oral traditions, Australian political history, and mythic elements, creating a narrative that challenges linear Western storytelling.

The story kicks off with the haze cloud blanketing Praiseworthy: “An ochre-coloured haze gathered permanently over Praiseworthy” (Wright, 2023, p. 5). Cause, a dreamer with big ideas, sees the haze as a chance to rethink the future: “He intended to make money from global warming” (p. 46). His plan? Build a transport empire using feral donkeys: “Donkeys would become the transport system of a post-fossil-fuel era” (p. 47). It’s quirky, almost absurd, but rooted in a vision of sustainability. Meanwhile, Dance, his wife, finds meaning in nature: “Dance read stories on the wings of moths” (p. 525). Their sons, though, are caught in darker struggles: “Aboriginal Sovereignty wanted to end his life” (p. 68), haunted by despair, while “Tommyhawk dreamed of being white and powerful” (p. 69), swayed by external influences.

The novel takes a hard look at Australia’s colonial policies, especially the 2007 Northern Territory Intervention, a government move that targeted Aboriginal communities with heavy-handed measures: “The Intervention chased ghosts, imagining paedophiles where none existed” (p. 297). This policy looms over the town, sowing division. Aboriginal Sovereignty’s disappearance becomes a central wound: “His absence was a wound the community mourned” (p. 202). Tommyhawk’s betrayal, influenced by government propaganda and technology, deepens the pain: “Tommyhawk, brainwashed by his shiny Apple hardware” (p. 204). The town itself is alive with detail: “Churches sprang up in tin sheds, old folk sat on plastic chairs” (p. 208), painting a vivid picture of a community holding on.

Wright leans into magical realism to give the story depth: “The haze was a physical manifestation of Indigenous grief” (p. 210). Cause’s donkey chase is both funny and profound: “He chased a platinum donkey, led by a swarm of moths” (p. 215). Dance’s connection to the land offers balance: “She read the unfathomable messages on moth wings” (p. 526). The community’s strength shines through: “Praiseworthy’s people carried their ancestors’ strength” (p. 310). The novel argues that Indigenous stories and knowledge are key to survival: “Fiction is a way of telling the truth” (p. 290). It pushes for cultural reclamation: “The stories of our ancestors hold the key to survival” (p. 320).

The narrative doesn’t wrap up neatly. Instead, it ends with a mix of hope and unresolved tension: “Praiseworthy endured, a testament to survival” (p. 650). Time itself bends in the story: “Time in Praiseworthy was not linear, but a spiral” (p. 655). Wright challenges readers to rethink reality through an Indigenous lens: “The world was not what the invaders thought it was” (p. 660). The novel’s scope, from climate to colonialism, makes it a powerful reflection on resilience and identity.

The novel’s biggest strength is its fearless mix of styles—satire, magical realism, and Indigenous storytelling—creating a narrative that’s both bold and deeply moving. Wright’s prose is like a friend sharing a layered, heartfelt story: “The sovereignty of mind and imagination cannot be taken away” (Wright, 2023, p. 15). The setting is so vivid you can almost feel the dust: “Churches sprang up in tin sheds, old folk sat on plastic chairs” (p. 208). For Indian readers, this echoes the resilience of rural communities facing neglect.

The critique of colonialism is razor-sharp, especially the Northern Territory Intervention: “The Intervention chased ghosts, imagining paedophiles where none existed” (p. 297). Indian readers, familiar with state overreach or policies like demonetization, will find this relatable. The Steel family’s struggles bring the issues to life: “Aboriginal Sovereignty wanted to end his life” (p. 68). Cause’s donkey plan, while quirky, skewers capitalist fixes for climate issues: “He intended to make money from global warming” (p. 46). It’s clever and thought-provoking.

The celebration of Indigenous knowledge is a standout: “The stories of our ancestors hold the key to survival” (p. 320). This resonates with India’s own Adivasi traditions, offering a universal call to honor heritage. The non-linear structure, though complex, mirrors Indigenous ways of seeing time: “Time in Praiseworthy was not linear, but a spiral” (p. 655). Wright’s humor keeps things engaging: “His plan was as mad as the haze above” (p. 50). The novel’s global perspective on marginalized voices makes it a must-read for those who care about social change.

The novel’s length and non-linear structure can feel like a marathon: “Time in Praiseworthy was not linear, but a spiral” (p. 655). Indian readers, who often prefer straightforward stories, might find it tough to keep up. The focus on Australian colonialism, while sharp, doesn’t always connect to India’s specific struggles, like caste or religious divides: “The Intervention chased ghosts” (p. 297). A broader lens would make it hit closer to home.

Female characters, like Dance, are vivid but sometimes take a backseat: “Dance read stories on the wings of moths” (p. 525). Their stories feel less fleshed out than the men’s, which limits emotional depth. The solutions, centered on storytelling, are beautiful but not always practical: “Fiction is a way of telling the truth” (p. 290). Indian youth, dealing with real-world pressures, might want more hands-on ideas. The Australian setting and references, like the Intervention, may feel distant for readers unfamiliar with that history: “Praiseworthy’s people carried their ancestors’ strength” (p. 310).

Why Indian Youth Readers Must Read This Book

Indian youth, caught up in the grind of exams and societal expectations, will find Praiseworthy a powerful reminder of resilience and cultural pride. The story of a community under pressure mirrors the ground reality for many in India, especially those from marginalized groups: “The haze was a physical manifestation of Indigenous grief” (Wright, 2023, p. 210). For students slogging through IIT-JEE or NEET, this book is a wake-up call to draw strength from their roots.

The novel’s take on systemic oppression hits close to home: “The Intervention chased ghosts, imagining paedophiles where none existed” (p. 297). Indian youth, who’ve seen policies like reservations spark debate, will relate to this critique of heavy-handed governance. The focus on Indigenous knowledge is inspiring: “The stories of our ancestors hold the key to survival” (p. 320). In a world that often pushes rote learning over creativity, this nudges students to value their heritage.

The Steel family’s struggles feel personal: “Aboriginal Sovereignty wanted to end his life” (p. 68). Youth dealing with mental health challenges or family pressures will see themselves in this. The book’s call to storytelling as a form of resistance is empowering: “Fiction is a way of telling the truth” (p. 290). For those chasing jobs in a tough market, the community’s grit offers hope: “Praiseworthy’s people carried their ancestors’ strength” (p. 310). For young Indians playing catch-up in a globalized world, Praiseworthy is like a friend sharing a story over chai, urging them to hold on to their identity and fight for a better future.

Praiseworthy is a towering, soul-stirring epic that celebrates resilience and Indigenous wisdom, with lines like “The sovereignty of mind and imagination cannot be taken away” (Wright, 2023, p. 15) capturing its heart. Its bold prose and cultural depth outweigh its dense structure and Australian focus. Recommended for readers who love rich, challenging literature and stories of survival, it’s especially meaningful for Indian youth navigating their own battles with identity and society.