On October 5, as part of a Just Arrived post for Catherine Chidgey’s The Axeman’s Carnival, I mentioned that this book is both a popular and critically acclaimed work, and won this year’s Ockham NZ Book Award—aka the Jann Medlicott Acorn Prize–for Fiction.

By implication, I am clearly late to the reading party! Nonetheless, herewith m’terribly important thoughts on The Axeman’s Carnival. 😀

Short version: I liked it a lot.

The reasons why are numerous, but I’m going to start with what it’s all about. The synopsis makes no secret of the fact that The Axeman’s Carnival is about a violent marriage, as seen through the eyes, and related via the narrative voice, of Tama, a magpie chick rescued and raised by the wife, Marnie. So the interest of the story is not in finding out ‘what it’s all about.’

And although the violent marriage is core, the story is about a lot more than that. It’s about magpies and woodchopping as a NZ competitive sport; it’s about rural communities and the changing nature of farming, a storyline that weaves threads as diverse as the Clyde High Dam project, and water rights stemming from the goldmining era, into its Central Otago setting.

The Axeman’s Carnival is also a tale of family dynamics, and last but not least of the potential and power of the internet — but also its limitations, particularly the ability to transform either enthusiasm or outrage into action in the real world.

Clearly, you may be thinking, it’s a big read. I believe that’s true in terms of the scope of the story, but not the size of the book (346 pages.) I consider it a tribute to the author’s skill that so many threads are seamlessly woven together. I really enjoyed the characterization as well, starting with Tama. Needless to say, being a magpie, he is not a reliable narrator. He is unquestionably engaging, though, and has captured readers’ hearts — as he does those of internet viewers in the story.

Marnie, her husband Rob, and Marnie’s family (mother, sister, brother-in-law) are equally well-drawn. I feel it’s a (further) tribute to Catherine Chidgey’s skill that even Rob, the violent husband, is portrayed in a nuanced way, with illumination of both his nature and family background. I also liked that this is a recognizably NZ story, and the overall ethos felt authentic in terms of my personal experience of growing up in a rural NZ community.

I really enjoyed the rhythm of Ms Chidgey’s prose, too, and her clever use of repetition, particularly phrases such as Tama’s, “I did not trust him and I was right not to trust him.”

One of the challenges in telling a story with a magpie as narrator, is that Tama’s point-of-view and understanding of events around him is more partial than usual, and necessarily limited. The attendant challenge for the author lies in keeping the reader’s disbelief suspended. My one “glitch” moment in reading the book was when Tama not only relates, but also interprets, a social media maven’s explanation of internet marketing. At this point, my disbelief was definitely suspended, i.e. I felt it was beyond even the most intelligent magpie’s comprehension.

Although I did lay the book aside at that point, I soon picked it up again and rolled with the rest of the story to the end. Overall, I enjoyed the book very much and do recommend it, especially for readers who have enjoyed works as diverse as Watership Down, Fiona Kidman’s The Book Of Secrets, Kate Atkinson’s Behind The Scenes At The Museum, and The Slap by Christos Tsiolkas.

By way of the ever-important disclosure, I read a paperback edition (346 pages), published by Te Herenga Waka Press: Victoria University of Wellington, in 2022, which I purchased m’ownself. 😀