Winch has built her novel with subtlety and strength. This is a complex, satisfying book, both story and testimony. The Yield works to reclaim a history that never should have been lost in the first place. — The Guardian
"Unmissable." — The Guardian
“[A] wily, appealing novel….A testament to the saving grace of language itself, and to the corrosive consequences when it falls out of use and disappears.” — Wall Street Journal
A lyrical, courageous storyteller, Winch redefines Australia in this generational tale of reclamation and hope. — Sunday Times (London)
"A deep and affecting novel, [and] one of the summer's literary must-reads." — Bustle
"Winch makes a strong statement, beautifully rendered." — Library Journal (starred review)
Take courage when you read this book. You’ll need it. Winch asks big questions ... Is the answer within us? — Bruce Pascoe, author of Dark Emu
"The Peoples, languages and wildlife of Australia have been purposely decimated for a great many years. The history of this vast land is a tragic one and this young Indigenous author has taken it on in a graceful act of retrieval and witness. The dictionary and use of Wiradjuri words is transporting. Birrabuwawanha—to return, to come back. The Yield is a fine novel, and one not without hope." — Joy Williams, author of Pulitzer Prize finalist The Quick and the Dead
A lyrical and generous writer, Winch’s prose shimmers through this extraordinary tale of cruelty, dislocation, love and resilience. — Judging Panel for the Prime Minister’s Literary Award
Already a best-seller in Australia, Winch’s second novel is a clear-eyed look at the experiences of native people and the ways in which history is inherited through generations. — Booklist
A beautifully written novel that puts language at the heart of remembering the past and understanding the present. — Kate Morton, internationally bestselling author of The Clockmaker’s Daughter
"The Yield is, by far, the Australian novel of 2020 that you won’t want to miss." — Book Riot
"The humorous undercurrent to some of Winch’s short stories has no place here, and this is a more serious work than her previous books—but while she may have developed a more sophisticated style, her work is no less vivid, and this is an astonishingly elegant and powerful second novel." — Melanie Kembrey, Sydney Morning Herald
A groundbreaking novel for black and white Australia. — Richard Flanagan, Man Booker Prize winning author of The Narrow Road to the Deep North
Mesmerising and important. — Melissa Lucashenko, 2019 Miles Franklin award-winning author of Too Much Lip
Winch offers a stark account of how Aboriginal peoples are ignored, abused and their cultural beliefs stomped on, [but] The Yield's final message is one of hope. — Buzzfeed
The Yield is a story of hope and preservation — Buzzfeed
The Yield sings up language, history, home, blood - all the important stuff. — Paul Kelly, author of How to Make Gravy
A work of immense scope and sensitivity. — Jessie Cole, author of Deeper Water
Reap the wisdom this book yields. — The Saturday Paper
The Yield is the work of a major talent. It hypnotises with its lyricism, with the juxtaposition of horror and hope, and the candid look at family, country and history. It’s a work to be savoured, to be enjoyed in the sun on a winter’s day, and then to be shared—as widely as possible! — Madelaine Dickie, National Indigenous Times
The Yield... is a poignant story of personal and cultural reclamation and survival. — The Australian
As August navigates her connection to home, to family, and seeks to save what is left of it, the three stories collide in a beautiful ending. The story touches on many types of trauma that have been inflicted on Indigenous Australian’s from the colonization of Australia. Beautifully written, this was a deeply moving story that showed that regardless of the brokenness, the spirit of culture is so much stronger. — ReadWithWine
"A brilliant novel: deeply thought provoking, challenging, intelligent, sophisticated in style, and beautifully written, despite the brutality and sorrow that the history, and narrative, is awash with." — Theresa Smith Writes
Nothing short of a landmark Australian novel, simultaneously timeless and yet urgently a story for now, with sentences that’ll knock the wind out of your gut. — Benjamin Law, author of The Family Law
The Yield is a bleak and beautiful book that eloquently phrases the weight of history, with an ultimately uplifting sensibility at its heart: that of the power of storytelling across thousands of years. — Anne Barnetson, Australian Bookseller + Publisher
Winch’s urgent novel is a chance to listen. A moving and evocative story of Aboriginal Australia. Hope shines through this contemporary novel of a culture dispossessed and the importance of preserving language. Winch is a Wiradjuri author and here she writes about the Wiradjuri language which was once thought to be extinct but has now been preserved. The Yield is current, timely and an important must-Read for all Australians. — Dean, Better Read Than Dead
It’s another mesmerizing tour de force, throwing a spotlight on Australia’s broken heart. — Juliet Rieden, Australian Womens Weekly
This is a big hearted, hopeful book. More hopeful, maybe, than we deserve. — Miles Allinson, Readings
I just finished this book and it is ABSOLUTELY extraordinary. Intensely moving, gripping, brutal and yet so full of generosity. I learned so much especially about the lyrical Wiradjuri language. Brilliant. — Annabel Crabb, author of The Wife Drought
The Yield uniquely and powerfully shows how revolutionary a shift from an imported language to an Indigenous language might be ... such aesthetically and ethically ambitious writing. Reap the wisdom this book yields. — Maria Takolander, The Saturday Paper
This is an astonishingly elegant and powerful second novel. — Louise Swinn, The Sydney Morning Herald
A lyrical, courageous storyteller, Winch redefines Australia in this generational tale of reclamation and hope.
Already a best-seller in Australia, Winch’s second novel is a clear-eyed look at the experiences of native people and the ways in which history is inherited through generations.
[A] wily, appealing novel….A testament to the saving grace of language itself, and to the corrosive consequences when it falls out of use and disappears.
"The Peoples, languages and wildlife of Australia have been purposely decimated for a great many years. The history of this vast land is a tragic one and this young Indigenous author has taken it on in a graceful act of retrieval and witness. The dictionary and use of Wiradjuri words is transporting. Birrabuwawanha—to return, to come back. The Yield is a fine novel, and one not without hope."
"A deep and affecting novel, [and] one of the summer's literary must-reads."
A lyrical and generous writer, Winch’s prose shimmers through this extraordinary tale of cruelty, dislocation, love and resilience.
Judging Panel for the Prime Minister’s Literary Award
Winch has built her novel with subtlety and strength. This is a complex, satisfying book, both story and testimony. The Yield works to reclaim a history that never should have been lost in the first place.
Take courage when you read this book. You’ll need it. Winch asks big questions ... Is the answer within us?
[A] wily, appealing novel….A testament to the saving grace of language itself, and to the corrosive consequences when it falls out of use and disappears.
Already a best-seller in Australia, Winch’s second novel is a clear-eyed look at the experiences of native people and the ways in which history is inherited through generations.
"The humorous undercurrent to some of Winch’s short stories has no place here, and this is a more serious work than her previous books—but while she may have developed a more sophisticated style, her work is no less vivid, and this is an astonishingly elegant and powerful second novel."
Winch offers a stark account of how Aboriginal peoples are ignored, abused and their cultural beliefs stomped on, [but] The Yield's final message is one of hope.
The Yield sings up language, history, home, blood - all the important stuff.
As August navigates her connection to home, to family, and seeks to save what is left of it, the three stories collide in a beautiful ending. The story touches on many types of trauma that have been inflicted on Indigenous Australian’s from the colonization of Australia. Beautifully written, this was a deeply moving story that showed that regardless of the brokenness, the spirit of culture is so much stronger.
"A brilliant novel: deeply thought provoking, challenging, intelligent, sophisticated in style, and beautifully written, despite the brutality and sorrow that the history, and narrative, is awash with."
Reap the wisdom this book yields.
A groundbreaking novel for black and white Australia.
I just finished this book and it is ABSOLUTELY extraordinary. Intensely moving, gripping, brutal and yet so full of generosity. I learned so much especially about the lyrical Wiradjuri language. Brilliant.
The Yield... is a poignant story of personal and cultural reclamation and survival.
The Yield uniquely and powerfully shows how revolutionary a shift from an imported language to an Indigenous language might be ... such aesthetically and ethically ambitious writing. Reap the wisdom this book yields.
This is an astonishingly elegant and powerful second novel.
A beautifully written novel that puts language at the heart of remembering the past and understanding the present.
Mesmerising and important.
This is a big hearted, hopeful book. More hopeful, maybe, than we deserve.
The Yield is a bleak and beautiful book that eloquently phrases the weight of history, with an ultimately uplifting sensibility at its heart: that of the power of storytelling across thousands of years.
A work of immense scope and sensitivity.
"The Yield is, by far, the Australian novel of 2020 that you won’t want to miss."
The Yield is the work of a major talent. It hypnotises with its lyricism, with the juxtaposition of horror and hope, and the candid look at family, country and history. It’s a work to be savoured, to be enjoyed in the sun on a winter’s day, and then to be shared—as widely as possible!
It’s another mesmerizing tour de force, throwing a spotlight on Australia’s broken heart.
Winch’s urgent novel is a chance to listen. A moving and evocative story of Aboriginal Australia. Hope shines through this contemporary novel of a culture dispossessed and the importance of preserving language. Winch is a Wiradjuri author and here she writes about the Wiradjuri language which was once thought to be extinct but has now been preserved. The Yield is current, timely and an important must-Read for all Australians.
Better Read Than Dead Dean
Nothing short of a landmark Australian novel, simultaneously timeless and yet urgently a story for now, with sentences that’ll knock the wind out of your gut.
The humorous undercurrent to some of Winch’s short stories has no place here, and this is a more serious work than her previous books – but while she may have developed a more sophisticated style, her work is no less vivid, and this is an astonishingly elegant and powerful second novel.
The Sydney Morning Herald
06/12/2020
DEBUT Three distinct narratives bind together Winch's riveting story of Australia's Indigenous people. From the proud patriarch Albert "Poppy" Gondiwindi and his peculiar bilingual dictionary, a haunting history of his ancestors the Wiradjuri comes alive, depicting their lore, their love of the land, their cruel defeat by white settlers, and his punishing days in the Boys' Home after his parents were run off their land. In 1915, the Rev. Ferdinand Greenleaf writes letters to His Excellency the Governor describing white acts of horror he has witnessed but gets not replies. Instead, with Britain at war, Greenleaf is taken to an internment camp for German settlers, where his fierce commitment to the Aborigines earns him extra punishment. Gondiwindi's granddaughter August returns for Poppy's funeral after 10 years in England. Although her arrival brings back painful memories, it also coincides with a mining company takeover of the land. She quickly grasps the importance of her heritage and uses her grandfather's dictionary, Greenleaf's letters, museum records of stolen Aboriginal artifacts, and buried native bones to challenge the company. VERDICT The Aborigines' story is one of yielding, of not taking from the land but of bending to the will of others, a tragic picture of the Australian colonial period. Winch makes a strong statement, beautifully rendered. [See Prepub Alert, 12/2/19.]—Donna Bettencourt, Mesa Cty. P.L., Grand Junction, CO
2020-03-29 An Aboriginal woman uncovers her heritage, and her painful past, to save her family’s home.
August Gondiwindi, a dishwasher in London, receives word that her grandfather Poppy Albert has died and knows she must return to Massacre Plains, the small Australian town her family has lived in for generations—a place she hasn’t visited in years: “Go back full with shame for having left, catch the disappointment in their turned mouths, go back and try to find all the things that she couldn’t find so many thousands of kilometres away.” She arrives at the family farm, Prosperous House, and as she helps her grandmother Elsie prepare food and clean for the large collection of aunts and uncles gathering for the funeral, she runs into former classmates and old flames and wrestles with her long-dormant grief at the disappearance of her sister, Jedda, who vanished when August was 9 and Jedda, 10. She also discovers that this may be the last time she sees her childhood home—her grandmother will soon be forced out of Prosperous House because a company plans to open a large tin mine on the land. Interwoven with August’s story are two other narrative strands: a lengthy letter from the Rev. Ferdinand Greenleaf, who founded the mission that eventually became Prosperous House to “build a home of safety for the poor waifs and strays,” and sections from a dictionary Poppy Albert was compiling of their family’s native language before his death, which includes words from the author’s ancestral Wiradjuri language. Albert’s entries are easily the most charming parts of the book. “The dictionary is not just words—there are little stories in those pages too,” he writes, and the same is true for his own effort, which weaves in reminiscences of meeting Elsie, fond memories of raising Jedda and August, and stories from his ancestors. But August’s chapters suffer from a lack of clarity; it’s often difficult to understand why events are significant, especially in the novel’s more dramatic latter half. Too often, it’s simply that the sentences are bewildering: “When the previous evening, like a virus, the true rumour that Rinepalm Mining had set an open day at the town hall filtered into the Valley, and back streets, the men and women, though on the edge of heatstroke, leapt from their houses and headed into town.”
A story woven from profound, overlooked historical material that’s sadly marred by sloppy execution.