NOTHING BAD EVERY HAPPENS HERE by Heather Rose

Nothing Bad Ever Happens Here is the memoir of Tasmanian author Heather Rose. I’ve had this book on my shelf for over a year.

Nothing Bad Ever Happens Here is the memoir of Tasmanian author Heather Rose. I’ve had this book on my shelf for over a year.

I’m about to write a review I never normally write and take no joy from writing.

I just didn’t enjoy this book.

Normally, when I am not enjoying a book, I simply stop reading it. I’m also very reticent to criticise a memoir, because they tell the stories of a person’s life, from their perspective, and it is not my place to like or not like that.

The quality of writing is not the issue - Rose is clearly a very good writer, and her success in fiction writing is no doubt deserved.

There are stories Rose tells, such as that of the tragedy that befell her family when she was 12 years old, and the week-long bush walk with her son through Tasmanian wilderness, that were good.

However, much of this memoir talks about Rose’s spirituality - not a religious kind, but that which derived from Asian monasteries and American retreats, under the auspices of local Native American Indians. It is not that these types of things are not interesting - they absolutely can be. However, in Rose’s hands, these stories felt flat. They did not inspire me to want to learn more, nor did they sound like enjoyable experiences. Some of the activities sound flat out cruel. Rose is at pains to remind the reader that these experiences were not had under the influence of drugs or alcohol, but seems to avoid any discussion of whether deep exhaustion, starvation and physical challenges might have a psychological impact similar to those that could be had under the influence of drugs. Some of it - frankly - sounded fucking stupid.

There’s a place for memoirs like these and I am certain this one has its fans, which is great. Not every book is a hit for every reader. However, I do think the blurb on the back drastically undersold this element of Rose’s memoir - the mysticism and sometimes cult-like behaviour just is not in my area of interest, and had it been a little more honest in its description, this a book I would not have purchased. I did finish it but I did also speed-read some parts simply to get it finished, because I was too far in to quit and simply uninterested in reading anything more about self-harm techniques. Each to their own, of course - but this one just was not for me.