Reviewed by: Road to Tamarlin by K. M. Steele Summer Dorr Effects of kept secrets K. M. Steele. Road to Tamarlin. Brisbane: Campbell St Press, 2017. 280 pp. A$15.75. ISBN 978-0-6481214-0-4 K. M. Steele's Road to Tamarlin could be labeled both a mystery and a coming-of-age story, as, in a matter of hours, two teenage girls are chased out of a cave, their mother goes missing, and their father is implicated in the disappearance. One minute these young women play dress-up in their moth-er's clothing, and the next they worry about being assaulted by a stranger before they say goodnight to a parent for the last time. This novel does not so much use its pages to reveal the effects of grief or investigative concern but rather chronicles the cause and effect of incomplete stories, how with-holding information allows for suspicion to linger, anger to fester, and estrangement to become permanent. Sectioned off into months/years (e.g., the book begins in "December, 1975" and ends in "February, 2007"), this novel, for the most part—until a man named Lou Roberts shows up for the story's last portion—tracks two sisters, Nancy and Mary Slender. Their father, Lionel, is a traditionalist, wanting to tame his thousands of acres in the known, familiar, way, which is an inclination that his stepdaughter, Nancy, adopts (to the eventual detriment of her down-the-road marriage); Nancy also subscribes to Lionel's distorted biblical interpretations. Mary, meanwhile, believes her father culpable for their mother's absence—maybe he even [End Page 176] murdered her—and resents Nancy's devo-tion to such a man. Mary, eventually dis-respectful to the point that she is asked to leave Tamarlin, goes to her grandmother's and, later, to Sydney. The sisters, already dif-ferent in temperament before their mother's leaving, become more dissimilar as their paths dichotomize. Mary later tells Lou, "But someone had to stay; a sacrifice to the land, so to speak. I guess we always knew it would be Nancy" (202). There is not enough question-asking among this central family with regard to the palpable tension relating to religion, a missing mother, and their owned land. The Slenders accuse, ignore, or opt to agree or disagree with rumors without research. Research is not something Lionel or Nancy want when options come to modernize the farm. Nor is it something Nancy needs when she hears town gossip: that their mother, Tamara, ran off with her lover (husband of a local woman). Mary becomes a journalist later in life and makes a habit of surveying public spaces for a possible mother sighting yet, ironically, in this career makes no seri-ous attempt to uncover her mother's where-abouts or discover whether Tamara has been alive since that last evening she was seen. For the book's latter portion, Lou—who is related to the man who chased the girls away from the Limeholes—asks questions about his family, and only through his curi-osity (in his efforts to complete his ancestral tree) are the secrets surrounding Tamara Slender's absence exposed. The reader wonders why an outsider, with minimal vested interest in decades-old news, does the probing that Nancy and Mary do not. And, still, why, at any point, will Lionel not be candid with what he knows? Along with the epiphanies at the book's end, there is conveniently timed evidence that is literally unearthed. This book has its positives: it has unex-pected inclusions, a lack of predictability, and magical realism (e.g., Tamara apparitions), yet, as the last chapter shows, there are labor-saving shortcuts. That is, along with the not-so-satisfying conclusion, there are characters throughout the work that feel too thin, used more as speaking props than explained peo-ple. There are also sporadic Christian refer-ences (scriptures) and Aboriginal Australians mentioned (alluding to racial division) that, as placed, jar—as they are neither subtle nor sufficiently fleshed out to fit the narrative they are in. For example, after a couple of pages (60– 62) focused on race distinctions, including a...
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