The Yield, by Tara June Winch

August returns to the country town where she grew up, Massacre Creek, for the funeral of her grandfather. We are told right from the start that August’s childhood was haunted, first by the delinquency of her parents and soon after by the disappearance of her sister. It is implied that negligence meant her sister’s disappearance was never properly investigated because she was Aboriginal and August has never got over it. August’s present, compelling narrative is punctuated by excerpts from her grandfather’s dictionary and also by excerpts from a letter from an early missionary to the region, dated 1915. Prior knowledge of the book made the jump between narrators more explicable, but this should not be necessary. It reads somewhat disjointedly until deep into the story, when the three strands come together in a way that finally makes sense. August’s reluctant return from overseas to the miserable town she had escaped is gradually turned around to a welcome home as she painfully comes to terms with her own tragic past, her family’s past and her people’s past. By the end the novel becomes an astonishingly clear and poignant expression of the plight of Australia’s indigenous people and how many feel about it. It should probably be added to the national curriculum and should definitely be required reading for politicians, policy makers and all those who just don’t get what all the fuss is about.