Sally Morgan's My Place is a deeply moving account of a search for truth, into which a whole family is gradually drawn; finally freeing the tongues of the author's mother and grandmother, allowing them to tell their own stories.
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I did a good enough job of pretending to be interested when my boyfriend's father spoke about this book that he went straight out and bought me a copy... So now I'm compelled to read it in case there is a pop quiz over Christmas lunch.
Sally Morgan's writing is an absolute trial, and I refuse to believe that ANYONE could remember their early childhood in such technicolour detail and every sentence she "speaks" as a 5 year old sounds like the words of a 50 year old.
I'm a first generation Australian who has been dragged through the whole "National Sorry Day" rubbish (my ancestors had nothing to do with any negative treatment of Aborigines, so why should I apologise for anything?) and this book hasn't encouraged me to take any interest in the plight of the Stolen Generation. I don't think it does the Aboriginal community any favours and despite Sally Morgan's insistence that she did not obtain an Indigenous grant for university for the money, I think the additional allowance and the guaranteed place at uni, combined with the repatriation grant she was already receiving would have been a major factor.
I doubt many people would have ever made it to the end of this book had it not been on the Curriculum Council's list of English Lit. texts - perhaps to satisfy some minority component. I'm not even going to recycle this tripe once I've done my duty in reading it - it'll go straight in the bin.
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