Reading The Slap I wished I still belonged to a book club. Christos Tsiolkas’ thought-provoking book is just made for group discussion. Every character it seems is morally compromised, and the novel is structured such that the plot unfolds via the point of view of a different character in each chapter. There is easily an evening’s worth of discussions here – infidelity, sexual exploitation, domestic violence, racism, cultural clashes, sexuality, vanity, ageing, alcoholism, and suburban malaise, but none is more intriguing than the event around which the novel is named – an adult slapping someone else’s three year old child at a barbeque. There would be little moral ambiguity here except that Tsiolkas has toyed with your moral compass by making the child in question and his parents the most annoying characters in the book.
Unfortunately the author’s fun with this device only served to distract me. I never got the chance to lose myself in this story, digesting the stereotypes of parenting was too consuming. The parents of the child are ‘attachment parenting’ types but the ‘attachment parenting’ is readily confused by the author with ‘permissive parenting’ and the inevitable outcome results – the infamous ‘tyranical child’. Under this treatment extended breastfeeding is the manifestation of the mother’s unwillingness to let go of her child and face her own life’s failings. And perversely, the parents’ rejection of physical punishment for their child has doomed him to being a child who hits others. Undoubtedly dysfunctional parents exist in the attachment parenting spectrum but they make for very easy targets in a novel looking to confront its audience.
On a broader level Tsiolkas is exploring generational and cultural change through the prism of parenting and family life in Australia. His novels have always been fascinating portraits of Australia, and this one, while leaning towards melodrama happily takes its readers far from the homogeneity of Home And Away depictions of Australia. The Slap is instead populated with immigrant families, Muslim conversions, gay teenagers, suburban drug taking and even an actual urban Aboriginal character. Tsiolkas switches easily between these characters and their cultural backgrounds and his observations are generally astute – the Anglo-Australian’s mindless alcoholism is as perfectly described as the dislocated Greek-Australian’s growing sense of mortality. And yet not all his characters achieve a truly authentic voice. I found his female characters generally less believable. (Among the ethical dilemmas Tsiolkas throws us is one I could do without – a schoolgirl makes what appears to be a false rape accusation at the conclusion of an exploitative sexual relationship with an older man, only to tearfully recant it all later and make amends with the older man’s wife).
Tsiolkas as a writer is the epitome of left-wing intellectualism but judging from The Slap he also feels a good deal of nostalgia for that notion of ‘respect’ cherished by conservatives, a type of respect considered lost in the hypocrisy of liberal idealism. That’s ok, I like a bit of skepticism with my idealism, but in this case the tools are too blunt, the conclusions too simplistic. In my mind The Slap would have been all the more confronting if both the parents of the child and the one slapping the child had been perfectly reasonable people.
(Interesting interview with the author here).
I have the book sitting here on the bookshelf. I must try again – I was put off by the farting unpleasant character on page 1.
It sounds like the attachment parenting angle will really annoy me too, though. I get enough of ‘you must give them boundaries’ (ie leave them to cry); ‘you are spoiling those children,’ (ie leave them to cry) and ‘are you still breastfeeding?’ in my daily life.
Mikhela – that Hector of the farting and “young cunt” talk is a little jarring for the beginning of a novel. Agreed.
OMG, an Aboriginal person who lives in town!!!! Amazing!!!
Also, I am heartily sick of the ‘girl who cried rape’ scenario. I ONLY ever see it in books or films. The closest it has ever come to me in real life is blokes who complain that it could happen to them.
Sometimes I get cranky with misogynist films/books not merely because of the anti-women story lines, like the ‘girl who cried rape’ thing, but also because… fuck… I’m bored of reading and watching the same old stories. Men do awesome and heroic things, women are scatterbrained / bitchy / crazy / minor characters. *yawn*
Bluemilk, you are spot on: having the slap occur in different circumstances, and between different people would have been a far more subtle and interesting way of exploring questions of responsibility, parenting and violence.
I liked it, but with the caveats bluemilk has noted. And they are major caveats. The male characters were also compromised (there’s no heroism or awesomeness) but not quite in the same obviously and traditional gendered ways. No-one was particularly likeable, I found, but I was kind of swept along with the melodrama of it all.
For my money, the most likeable character was the father of Hector. He seemed the kindest and most reflexive, the one most appreciative of the trickiness of life.
My reason for posting is that I just need to rant about the sentimentalisation of migrant culture, their supposed functional child rearing abilities and (speaking of respect) their complete lack of it when judging so called Anglo-Saxon child rearing techniques.
Firstly, I grew up of migrant parents, and there is nothing loving and warm about the stereotypical assimilation into Australian society experience which we went through. It was difficult. My parents worked outrageous factory hours -all for “us” and “our future”. No, it was because of their unhealthy attitude towards money and the attainment of it, borne of a incredible fear of the poverty they had escaped. They, and most ‘wogs’ I know, judge people on what they have, and how they pesent themselves – it’s all about appearing to be successful. Even now, if I tell my parents about volunteering and the importance of community, I might get an insincere nodding of the head in agreement. But mention a pay rise, new car, building a home, blah blah, peacock pride takes over their whole physical being and the preening to relatives, neighbours, whoever will listen starts before I even finish talking. I mean, we judge Paris Hilton – but have you seen EuroTrash??? Family first – my arse. Most struggling migrants would sell their grandmother for a gold watch!
I personally prefer the well mannered, polite and well meaning attitudes of most true Australians that I have the pleasure in knowing and calling my friends. Today I prefer that over the so called passion and warmth of Europeans. Passion? You mean anger, violence and alcholism (yes, it’s rife in migrant culture too). Warmth? Most migrant families I know consist of an emotionally retarted father, and a mother seething with resentment. The nostalgia for the ‘homeland’ is such a cliche and keeps most migrant families I know stuck in a bitter, unhappy timewarp. But, try as you might, you just can’t tell them that the homeland as they recall it DOES NOT EXIST ANYMORE.
And this bullshit about children being at the heart of migrant culture … my GOD! You don’t know how many times I schemed with girlfriends to help them plan to run away from their extremely violent fathers during my childhood. The judgments of who you can have as friends, who you can date, how you speak to adults (in other words, don’t) was (and I presume still is) rampant amongst migrant families.
And let’s not forget the misogyny. Most migrant men I know still have very little respect for women, and are raising their boys to carry on this legacy. As well as a complete inability to wash their own clothes and throw together a simple meal.
No, not for me thanks. I have chosen the educated Ango path – for my marriage, for my children and for my well being. Manners and respect and helicopter parenting over judgmental pride, an obsession with the acquisition of wealth and pure arrogance any day, thanks!
mythoughts – while I find your experiences interesting and insightful, your generalisations are pretty racist.
I am nearly at the end, one chapter left. I book is a master piece of writing because it pushes your buttons. The characters are annoying which may make you feel disconnected to them but instead it sucks you in more. The main thread of the story ‘the slap’ is background noise to the rest of the meaty parts – people who are fallible.
My thoughts comments are interesting but misleading.
There are a lot of migrants that came from the cities and are as functioning than the anglo’s that you speak of……especially Athens
We have them in our family, you should not generalise that your own experience is indicative for all migrants..
You are being a little bigoted in that respect as well and generalising…
[…] pretty sure breastfeeding five-year olds, as happens in Room is considered extreme breastfeeding. (Incidentally, this is the only other novel where I can recall references to extended breastfeeding, …). I am not an earth mother. If anything you would probably stereotype me as a career woman, though […]