''I grew up on the world's largest island.'
'This apparently simple fact is the starting point for Tim Winton's beautiful, evocative and sometimes provocative memoir of how this unique landscape has shaped him and his writing.
'For over thirty years, Winton has written novels in which the natural world is as much a living presence as any character. What is true of his work is also true of his life: from boyhood, his relationship with the world around him – rockpools, seacaves, scrub and swamp – was as vital as any other connection. Camping in hidden inlets of the south-east, walking in the high rocky desert fringe, diving at Ningaloo Reef, bobbing in the sea between sets, Winton has felt the place seep into him, with its rhythms, its dangers, its strange sustenance, and learned to see landscape as a living process.
'Island Home is the story of how that relationship with the Australian landscape came to be, and how it has determined his ideas, his writing and his life. It is also a passionate exhortation for all of us to feel the ground beneath our feet. Much more powerfully than a political idea, or an economy, Australia is a physical entity. Where we are defines who we are, in ways we too often forget to our detriment, and the country's.
'Wise, rhapsodic, exalted – Island Home is not just a brilliant, moving insight into the life and art of one of our finest writers, but a compelling investigation into the way our country makes us who we are.' (Publication summary)
Turn home, the sun goes down; swimmer, turn home.
–Judith Wright 'The Surfer'
My island home is waiting for me
'My Island Home'
'I’m surprised and very pleased to have this little book acknowledged by the industry in this way. So, thank you.
'When I was writing this book I was never really sure what it was. Now that it’s safely behind me, I see that Island Home is a kind of love letter—to this place, its ecosystems and creatures, but also to its people. As I say somewhere in the book, this country leans in on you, it weighs down hard. Like family. Because it is family. And whether I like it or not, I’m caught up in its web, ensnared in all those family matters, organic and intangible, functional and dysfunctional, many of which make me shout at the telly and howl at the moon.' (Introduction)