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Ingrid
Woodrow. Goddess & and the Galaxy Boy. U.Q.P.
2001. |
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Goddess
& the Galaxy Boy, short listed for the Vogel,
is Ingrid Woodrow's first novel. It is with the force
of surprise that Woodrow propels the reader into a landscape
where dreams have four wheels and a Tangerine Symphony
factory paint job.
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Goddess
lives with her family at their wrecking yard where her
mum sneaks nips of bourbon as she prepares the Sunday
roast, her father wears socks and thongs and a faded blue
and red Nights beanie even in Summer, and her brother
drives a tow truck searching for treasure in the back
seats of crashed cars. In a yard filled with the skeletons
of broken dreams she wonders what will become of her own.
A car crumpled like a concertina is a daily occurrence
but she is soon to discover the disconcerting reality
of driving so fast she is almost flying.
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Galaxy
Boy meets Goddess when he comes to buy a car part for
his 350 Chev, 5 speed, 1976 Torana and Goddess takes him
to the wrecking yard where 'car windscreens and chrome
glint all around like gaudy tombstones.' Enticed by the
crisp smell of leather and Galaxy Boy's blue eyes, Goddess
takes a ride in his hotted-up blue-green Torana, a colour
that, like the ride she is taking, is never quite what
it seems. Galaxy Boy is her dream man driving her dream
car, with his blond hair falling about his eyes and his
tight jeans, but she rapidly speeds into the unknown as
she is propelled from the safety of stationary wrecked
cars and her family into a world spinning out of her control.
'It's exciting to go this fast but the vision of her own
death seems to hover around like a bad smell that gets
worse when the steering wheel comes off in his hands.'
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It
is a world populated by eccentric characters, characters
who are not often given a voice in modern cultural discourse.
Woodrow treats these characters with exquisite care, drawing
their faces like reflections on a shiny, waxed bonnet.
The multiple voices that tell the story of Goddess
and the Galaxy Boy fit uncannily together. The narrative,
like a car crash, embraces fate and coincidence. It all
fits violently together. If one thing had been done differently,
if they had just paused for even a few minutes before
driving off, everything would have been different. The
cars or the people in this novel would have never crashed
into each other's lives. They would have passed each other
serenely by.
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Despite
some chaos, the voice of Goddess shines out from within
the narrative, her journey changing the lives of those
she encounters on her way. Her voice shines with the afterglow
of survival, and the joy and recognition that life itself
is enough. Woodrow writes with refreshing honesty and
humour leaving the reader to feel like they have just
driven down a highway at one hundred and forty kilometers
per hour. The reader is left with their hair blown and
their face blasted by the wind, their mouth dry with a
smile. |
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