“She wonders if the White people understand that most Wirayuri men know how to work with the river and the land, even in times of flood. That the Marrimbidya is not something to be afraid of. Rather the bila is to be respected and relied upon for food, for transport, for life. That the men have been brave and smart.”

 

Towards the end of the day, Tasman National Park, Tasmania. May 2021.

Bila Yarrudhanggalangdhuray by Anita Heiss 

I hope that Bila Yarrudhanggalangdhuray – “River of Dreams” in the Wiradjuri language – is but the first of many novels from the perspective of Australia’s original inhabitants as they confront the realities of invasion, colonisation and the calculated efforts to destroy over 50,000 years of continuous culture.

This is the kind of book that I hope is (gently) introduced to younger readers and comes as a welcome relief from the self-mythologising nonsense that passes for historical memory in these parts. Heiss has woven a story through both a gendered and Wiradjuri lens that never seems forced or moralising. It follows many of the familiar patterns of the historical fiction romance, but in framing the central characters within the Wiradjuri cultural and linguistic tradition, what may have been a traditional tale is lifted into much more worthy territory.

Now the book is not without its flaws. In what I am sure is an attempt to attract a broad readership, there is a delicacy around some of the darker or more mature themes (racial hierarchies, sex and violence) that makes it seem oddly quaint at times. Still, the power of Wagadhaany and Yindyamarra’s entwined stories, and the magnitude of their struggles resonate. There is nuance and sensitivity in the exploration of black–and–white relations. The insidious nature of racialised power and dominion are oppressively ever-present, even if they are never spoken aloud.

Moreover, there is a boldness in choosing to publish with a Wiradjuri title, and Heiss does a beautiful job incorporating her ancestral tongue throughout. The understated manner with which the suppression of Wiradjuri words and names are part of the colonial project is one of the most effective elements of the book.

In summoning Aboriginal voices and feelings, Heiss invites the reader to feel the impact and journey of our heroine. Wagadhaany is given agency in a fashion little seen in Australian fiction, and for this alone, the novel is a must-read. If this country is fair dinkum about true reconciliation with the great crimes of our past and present, this book is a magnificent start.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐