Our staff share the books they’re planning to read over the coming long weekend.

Stella Charls is reading The Life of Houses by Lisa Gorton

A long weekend feels like an opportunity to take some time to challenge myself (at least in regards to what I’m reading). I’m looking forward to starting The Life of Houses – poet Lisa Gorton’s debut novel that Helen Garner calls, ‘shadowy, rich and restrained, a work of high literary sophistication and power’. I normally lean towards faced-paced, funny fiction but this novel about hidden tensions in a family might encourage me to slow down and get lost in Gorton’s dynamic prose and melancholic imagery.

The Life of Houses by Lisa Gorton is the book we’re road-testing for book clubs in April. I really enjoyed Hot Little Hands (which we road-tested in March) – another great pick for the long weekend if you’re after a smart, witty short-story collection that explores what it means to be a young female ‘coming-of-age’ in the tech-connected twenty-first century.

Nina Kenwood is reading The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins

I’m halfway through The Girl on the Train and really enjoying it. In terms of hype (and sales!) it’s the break-out crime thriller of the year so far, and that buzz is justified. The central character, Rachel, is an alcoholic, and her addiction drives the story in many ways – she is someone who’s life is so messed up, she has nothing more to lose and her drunken blackouts leave her unsure of what she might or might not know, making her an unreliable narrator, even to herself. I’m looking forward to heading down the coast over Easter and finishing the rest of the book in one sitting (while eating hot cross buns and enjoying a cup of tea).

I’ll also be taking a few other books away with me, because I’m not sure what to read next. I’m packing the following books as possible options: The Life of Houses, which is Lisa Gorton’s first novel for adults and by all accounts, superbly written; an advance copy of Dietland by Sarai Walker, which was highly recommended to me by a friend and has been described as ‘part Fight Club, part feminist manifesto’; and an advance copy of Mislaid by Nell Zink, which might have one of my favourite covers of the year and has been heartily endorsed by Jonathan Franzen (who I don’t particularly like but still respect as an endorser of things).

Bronte Coates is reading The Silent Woman: Sylvia Plath And Ted Hughes by Janet Malcolm

A sure sign that a particular book has a hold on me is when I start carrying it around with me unnecessarily, to places where I know I won’t have time to read it – like into the kitchen when I cooked dinner last night. I’m only one chapter into The Silent Woman and this is already one such book.

I’ve not read Janet Malcolm before (I know) so can’t say how it compares to her other works. I was largely drawn to starting with this book because I really love Sylvia Plath’s writing – her poetry, diaries, everything! I remember being absolutely blown away by her poem ‘Daddy’ in my teens (find it here) and she’s still one of the most important authors I’ve ever read. And Malcolm’s book is utterly fascinating. More a meditation on the nature of biography than an actual biography, Malcolm’s use of metaphors and analogies is compelling. I can’t wait to keep reading it.

Ann Le Lievre is reading Ransacking Paris: a year with Montaigne and Friends by Patti Miller

I am currently immersed in Patti Miller’s Ransacking Paris. Whenever I read about this city, I succumb to some intriguing flashbacks that include high school French and drawing an intricate map of Paris centred on the Île de la Cité. A serious trip to France beckons. However, Miller is my guide for the moment. She writes about what it is like for an Australian in Paris, attempting to write and to learn the language. She has always been drawn to French thinkers and includes insights into the thoughts and writings of Montaigne, Rousseau and De Beauvoir. Other moments in her book are grounded with memory of place from her childhood in outback New South Wales. A heady mix.

I also have some enticing books ahead of me. I can see out of the corner of my eye the fabulous cover of Emma Hooper’s Etta and Otto and Russell and James. I am also anticipating One Life: my Mother’s story by Kate Grenville after all the recent publicity. And finally, there will be some serious bush rambling over Easter, as I have seen my first terrestrial orchid for the season and will be turning to Enid Mayfield’s most beautifully illustrated Flora of the Otway Plain & Ranges as my trusty reference.

Isobel Moore is reading The Sagas of the Icelanders

Over the weekend I plan to read The Sagas of the Icelanders.

I haven’t started it yet, but am looking forward to nice juicy, epic tales, perfect for reading with a huge cup of tea plus lots and lots of Easter chocolate. Additionally, it means that I can daydream about Iceland, which is one of the most breathtaking places I’ve ever visited. In my experience, the Icelandic sense of humour is wonderfully dry and I’m interested to discover how much of that was present in their early storytelling.

Kara Nicholson is re-reading Emma by Jane Austen

I’m going to be rereading this novel for two reasons. My partner’s mum is on an Austen binge and she said to me the other day that reading Emma is taking ages because ‘she is such a pill and her father is worse’. I’m completely inclined to agree but I’ve just finished reading Brother of the More Famous Jack (which I enjoyed) and Emma is the main character’s favourite novel so I think a reread is required to see if there is anything I missed. I’m a few pages in and already finding Mr Knightley horribly patronising so I’m hoping to discover that I’ve judged Emma as a character too harshly in the past.

Chris Gordon is reading the lastest issue of The Monthly

I love to read a magazine over a long weekend; I like to dip in and out, and ponder. Most recently, I was very taken with an article in The Monthly. Justin Clemens, an author and commentator that I admire greatly, has written a critique of two Australian poet’ latest books: Clive James and Les Murray. His thoughts, and his challenging opinions are just one example of why I support The Monthly. I want to read articles that are not held back with fear. I want to read articles that challenge a collective view. I want to know that I am not alone.