The Thousands

Havana is a slum, no matter what people say. If you think it’s all dancing and beautiful food, Jesus Christ, you’ve been misinformed. It’s a vile city, with plenty of poverty, rum and counterfeit cigars, and to walk away loving such a horrible place is something I put down to the writing of Ernest Hemingway and that sickly Cuban fisherman. Hemingway had that kind of gift, of telling the story of a city so strongly that in spite of being robbed on every corner, you can still walk away in love.

Josephine Rowe’s writing does that for Melbourne. Years from now we’ll see tourists wondering the streets with Lonely Planet guides and copies of her book, torn and used, wondering where it was that little story about strawberry milk and pretty eyes all played out. How a Moth Becomes a Boat, a brand new collection of Rowe’s short tales is moving its way along my shelf to the space strictly reserved for old favourites.