Reproduced with permission from Metaphor, journal of
the ETANSW. March 2000 edition, Volume 1.
Helen Barnes' third novel, Killing Aurora, is a top read. Quirky,
controversial and instantly involving. It is the sort of book that makes
you realise just how sophisticated and intelligent Australian writing
for young people has become.
The novel focused on how impossibly raw one feels as an adolescent
girl, 'like living without a skin', everything wounds, scars and burns
into the memory. Peer acceptance is important but self acceptance is
imperative, the task made even harder by the all pervasive media spewing
forth endless images of what is considered attractive and desirable.
Eagerly absorbing these images is 14-year-old Aurora Thorpe who is attempting
to deal with an alcoholic stepfather, a lonely mum, a new school, and
those endless billboards portraying female perfection as something within
reach if only we are strict enough with ourselves. Aurora is a prime
candidate for anorexia and for much of the novel the person killing
Aurora is herself. The only one capable of saving her is Web, the weird
science buff with wild red hair and a home life as stressed as Aurora's
own.
The two oddballs in a school of mindless Barbie clones is a familiar
enough story but these two are dealing with death, literally. Web likes
to set fire to things and Aurora is ultimately hospitalised for her
disease. For varying reasons both girls are travelling along dangerous
and difficult roads. But Killing Aurora is also a sort of love
story. Web . . . has accepted herself in a way that can only have a
positive effect on the self-destructive Aurora and an important bond
develops between the two outcasts.
Families dealing with difficult kids, absent parents, emptiness in
all senses of the word, self discovery, plus an excellent portrayal
of Aurora's brother George who is pushed aside, in the family structure
by the 'crisis child' all ring true.
Killing Aurora is written in the present tense and it gives
the reader the feeling of watching an oddly entertaining film unfold
before your eyes as well as adding to the urgency of both girls reaching
a flashpoint in their lives. Barnes' account of Aurora's anorexia is
both harrowing and honest and whilst I can anticipate objections to
the way in which violence is portrayed in the text, the message appears
to be that it is better to explode than to implode and the physical
description of Aurora at the height of her anorexia would seem to bear
that out.
The characters of Web and Aurora stay in the reader's mind long after
the old Aurora metaphorically goes up in flames and a new more confident
Aurora emerges from the ashes like a suburban phoenix. Lady Lazarus
indeed.
I'd happily teach Killing Aurora as a class text and strongly
recommend it as a valuable addition to school libraries and book boxes.
Jane Sullivan, Vaucluse High School
Read an extract