“A Better Life”, the Susan Allot thriller that sheds light on the “stolen generation”

A better life, first work of the English, transplanted to Australia, Susan Allot is a gripping thriller. A novel, but which delves accurately and deeply into the sad story of the stolen Australian children, for many years remained top secret on the continent and still today practically unknown in the rest of the world. It is the terrible story of the stolen generation, the stolen generation: we speak of at least one hundred thousand children taken away from the aborigines to entrust them to religious missions and educate them according to the “white lifestyle”.

“At the time it is set A better life (1967, ed), there was a great silence on the fact that Aboriginal children had been removed from their families “, says the author, ‘This was partly due to a lack of awareness among white Australians. But I think there were also people who knew and were silent because they were ashamed. Was unmentionable argument. It’s no secret these days, but in the UK most people don’t know about it. I studied history until I was 18 and Australia was barely mentioned. ‘

To write the book, Allot researched extensively: “On the website of the National Library of Australia, where there are hundreds of records of Australians whose children have been stolen. I have listened to some testimonies several times. They are incredibly sad and touching. And then I gave my manuscript to an Aboriginal living in New South Wales, who checked it out and gave his approval. ‘

An excerpt from A Better Life.

Ivanhoe, New South Wales, 1966

It was Steve who saw her first, kneeling in the mud by the stream. She seemed happy. There were five or six older kids with her, trying to stick something in the water with a stick. He turned, kept his foot on the gas and prayed to God she would escape before Harry could see her. He felt his wet shirt against the car seat. He hummed something to break the silence and allowed himself for a moment to believe that he shouldn’t have done it; he would tell Ray he couldn’t find her. With any luck they would have had a very busy few months and the matter would have faded into the background. He would be able to sleep tonight. But he had no luck. The little girl jumped to her feet and shouted at the others to come and see, come, look here. He waved the stick in the air. Steve kept driving, kept humming, and she kept waving her cane and screaming. Why did he do it? “Here she is!” Harry jumped up. “Over there, by the stream.” Steve braked. He turned off the engine. “You have an eye, friend.” Harry went to her, quiet and peaceful, as if he were her favorite uncle coming to visit her. He began to talk to her, crouching on the shore. Steve knew what he was going to tell her:

“I’ll take you for a ride in the police van.” He always said that. “And then you’ll take a little vacation.” Steve got out of the van and waited. Harry reached out and the little girl took it. She was fascinated by him, you could see. She looked at him and smiled. Maybe they could get the job done quickly and inconspicuously. “There’s a little boy, too,” Harry said, loud enough for him to hear. “A male.” “Do we have to do it today?” “In my opinion, yes.” Harry looked at him like he was crazy. “Let’s get the job done, right? There is no point in dragging it out. ” Steve looked away, turning to the stream where the children were playing. Now they were gone. There was silence; just a dog barking, a door slamming. Someone must have raised the alarm. They had hidden their children under the beds, in the closets. The older ones must have already fled to the bush by now. “I’d rather avoid.” He kept his voice low. “Why don’t we leave it alone, Harry? It’s never easy with the little ones. ” “Nowhere is it written that it should be easy.” Harry held the door open for the baby, still with that good boy smile on him. “You wouldn’t be here if it was easy,” he said, closing the door behind her.

“It’s not easy for their, I mean.” He looked up at the house behind them, where the family lived. “It doesn’t seem fair, does it?” “Jesus, Steve. What are you saying?” Steve looked at Harry. Another dog began to bark, closer than the first. “Nothing,” he said. The girl leaned out of the window. “Where do I go on vacation?” He seemed wary. “Can I say hello to grandfather?” “I’ll talk to him,” Steve said. Her voice sounded false, like that of a one-line extra. “I warn him.” “Let’s hurry, come on,” said Harry. «And don’t be softened. It’s all approved. “

The house was immersed in silence. A porch with a tin roof and a dog sleeping in the shade. He knocked, not too loud, but immediately heard footsteps. He braced himself. “What happens?” An old man opened the door. He was darker than the child: black skin and white hair, like a photographic negative. What Ray would have called an Aboriginal thoroughbred. He was not very happy to see a policeman at the door of the house, and he had also seen the van down by the stream. “What’s the problem?” A child was crying softly in the living room, invisible. Beside the man the dog had risen on its paws, bared its teeth, growled. “I’m here for the kids,” Steve said. “Are you the grandfather?” “What does it mean?” The man took a closer look at the van and saw the little girl in the back seat. He backed away in bewilderment. He tried to step forward, shouted his name. Dora. “Look, don’t make it harder.” Steve grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him back into the house, hard enough to show he meant it, but no more. “Let me in.” It was dark inside, and a swarm of flies surrounded a piece of meat on a plate by the stove. Three empty beer bottles lined the sink. The baby was sitting upright on the sofa, in a suit and diaper. She had stopped crying, she was following Steve’s movements with her big shiny eyes.

“Where is the mother?” “Out,” the old man said, looking down at his feet. “Her sisters help out with the children. There are three sisters and five cousins. We are many to take care of the little ones. ” “Sorry. They told us to take the baby. Orders from above. ” The old man shook his head. “You can not.” She picked up the baby and held him tightly, surrounding him with both arms. “We are a united family. We take care of the children. “

A fly hit the small window and fell to the ground. The room was stuffy. Steve began to perceive his body as a stranger, as if he was no longer in control of himself. He didn’t know what he was going to do soon. He looked the child in the eye: a solid, wise and sad look. At that moment something changed inside Steve, in that little room in Ivanhoe, but he barely noticed it. A knot that was beginning to loosen. “I won’t take it,” he said. “You can keep the baby.” The old man did not react. Steve didn’t know if he really said what he thought he said. “I’ll leave it here with 1. I’m not taking it away. But his sister comes with me. There is already a foster family. ” He activated the autopilot. “They will take care of her. He will receive a good education. He will have a chance in life. ” At that point the old man began to cry, his face long and trembling. “I can see it?” “Better not. Stay here and keep the baby nice. Otherwise I’ll have to take him away too. ” Steve heard the old man sobbing as he closed the door behind him. The white sunlight lasts after the dark of the house. The dog raised its head, stood up on its hind legs and barked until it saw him walk off the property. Steve shook his head at Harry as he got into the van.

“There are no children in there,” he said. His hand was shaking on the ignition key. He wanted to cry too, now that he was out of there, away from the old man and his despair, his pain. He had no reason to cry compared to him, yet his throat ached and his eyes threatened to overflow. He was a bastard, a cursed coward. He couldn’t even look at the little girl back there. “I’ve changed my mind,” she said, turning in her seat. “I want grandfather.” “Your grandfather says you have to be a good girl.” He said it without turning. “He says you have to sit quietly and don’t bother.” He backed up for a few meters and a great cloud of dust rose around them. The old man was there on the porch as they drove off, and then he started chasing the van. Steve shifted gear after gear, put his foot on the accelerator and drove blindly through the dust until he was gone.

© 2020 Susan Allott
© 2021 HarperCollins Italia SpA, Milan