Yellow Notebook: Diaries Volume I 1978-1987 by Helen Garner
As a fan of Helen Garner’s fiction and essays, I was excited to hear that she had released a volume of her diaries. While Garner’s work often draws on autobiography (her first novel Monkey Grip was infamously critiqued as being a reworking of her personal diary), it feels quite rare to be privy to a writer’s thoughts and the interests that inform their writing: for Garner, these include the psyche, classical music, court cases, and the complex web of relationships between friends and family.
The book is organised chronologically but does away with specific dates, which lends it the feeling of a collage of fragments and observations. Garner’s playfulness and intellect shine through as she gives equal weight to both the profound and the mundane: marvelling at her sister’s healing caesarean scar, she thinks, “really it’s a wonder people ever die” to recounts of neighbourhood events, “Tiberio came into the café and reported that Mario in the pasta shop had just cut the tip of his finger off.” Her descriptions are always exacting and precise, in a way that encourages you to see the world with her sharp, observing eye. This volume of her diary was written in the period where she was working on her novel The Children’s Bach (which I read immediately after), and chronicles her struggle with self-doubt: the hard slog of writing like “a spider yanking thread out of its own guts…” is punctured by moments of inspiration, where it all suddenly works. Other larger narrative threads running through these years include her relationships with men and her inner turmoil as she wrestles with questions of faith and spirituality.
Ultimately, it gives us a great insight into a writer’s life and process. And it seems there’s more instalments to come. David Astle, recounting an interview with Garner, said, “My first question was more a gibe: ‘Gee, Volume One, that sounds ominous.’ Cue Helen’s wicked glee.” I, for one, can’t wait for the next.