This is not the sort of book I would tend to choose for myself; I don't tend to go in for memoirs... and let's face it, I don't tend to go in for real-world stuff that often. Especially not such modern real-world stuff.

I read this in an afternoon. Partly because I had to (for a class I had to teach); partly because I couldn't put it down. The prose it glorious and the story itself is captivating - tragic and funny and everything else that real life really is.

Raimond's parents, Romulus and Christina, come to Australia as newly weds, from Germany (although Romulus is born in... Yugoslavia, I think?). Their marriage is difficult - Christina has depression and possibly other mental health issues, while Romulus struggles to find work, as a non-Anglo immigrant, and is worried about his wife and his son. All of this is dealt with gently but honestly; after all, this is a son reflecting on the frailty of his parents, which is not as easy thing to do. His memories of his mother in particular are enough to break your heart; they, in themselves, are tragedy interspersed with love, much like many childhoods I suspect.

As well as mental health issues, Gaita also confronts issues of racism - I think we all agree Australia was a generally racist place in the couple of decades after WW2 (other times too of course, but that's when this is happening) - and the whole question of belonging and identity: how do you get to feel like you fit?

I really, really enjoyed it, far more than I had expected.