The Forgotten Garden

Allen & Unwin (2008)
ISBN: 9781741149982
$32.95
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Reviewed by Lorraine Cormack Oct 2009


This is one of those really lovely books that could be claimed by a number of genres, and deserves to be read widely. It’s a deeply moving, involving novel that had a strong impact on me and was a stand-out read despite the number of books and short stories I get through. It’s a work of contemporary fiction that could also be called historical fiction, or crime fiction, or (if you stretch quite a bit) speculative fiction. I don’t care what you want to call it; it’s one of the best novels I’ve read in a while.

When Nell O’Connor dies, she leaves everything to her granddaughter Cassandra, including, in a sense, the mystery that has shaped Nell’s life since her early twenties. It was on her 21st birthday that her father told Nell she was adopted; and further, that he’d found her abandoned on a wharf, apparently having been left behind by whoever brought her on a ship from England to Australia. Unable to find out who she was, or who she belonged to, he took her home and he and his wife pretended she was their own.

Many years later, Nell travels to England in search of clues to her past. She uncovers some memories of the Authoress, the woman who took Nell to the ship and told her to wait till she came back – but never returned. These memories lead her to more concrete information. She finds links, too, to the aristocratic Mountrachet family. But events prevent her from following the clues to the end, and decades later she dies with her past still unresolved. It falls to Cassandra to resume the search and ultimately solve the mystery.

The story switches back and forth in time, covering close to a hundred years. It’s never hard to follow, in part because each time period is dominated by particular characters. Morton’s characters are strong and distinctive, and you quickly find yourself desperately caring about what happens to them. Nell and Cassandra find that their stories are intertwined with those of Eliza Makepeace and her cousin Rose Mountrachet. The reader realises early that Eliza is the Authoress of Nell’s memories, but there is still a compelling mystery to be solved. It isn’t until the last pages of the novel that it fully becomes clear who’s done what, and why.

These four characters are realistic and understandable. You empathise even when you don’t like a character very much (they’re hardly perfect, these women) and it isn’t long before you care deeply about them. As well as the larger mystery that encompasses all four women, there are smaller mysteries for the reader to uncover about each of them. Nell’s mystery is the dominant one, of course; but each woman is complex and complicated and has depths you don’t immediately see. These central characters are surrounded by a supporting cast who are equally real, equally well-rounded, and just as engaging. Much of the reader’s emotional energy is taken up with the central quartet, but you’ll have a reaction to each of the range of charming and unpleasant characters who populate The Forgotten Garden.

The strong, beautifully interlocked plot and the vivid, emotionally engaging characters are the cornerstone of this novel. However, Morton appears to have done her research and presents a number of time periods and environments in a way that is completely convincing. I’m not a historian, and won’t swear she’s got every detail right; but it fits what I know of the periods and places, and – importantly – feels as though her depiction should be true, whether it is or not.

This is a timeless novel, in a way. Although each section of the novel is quite firmly rooted in a particular period, one of the many strengths of this novel is that it plays on emotions that remain common across generations. In particular, The Forgotten Garden will connect with anyone who has ever lost, or feared to lose, a person that they love. Friend, lover, parent, child… is there anyone who hasn’t lost or thought they were about to lose someone? And this novel will ring true to anyone who’s experienced those feelings. Despite that, this isn’t a sad novel. Yes, some aspects of it are sad, but Morton balances this with joy and hope to create a resonant and realistic mix.

This is a novel more likely to be picked up by women – the most prominent characters are female, and the copy I read had an “Australian Women’s Weekly Great Read” sticker on it. I think, though, that it will connect with many men as well. The characters are well-rounded and realistic, the emotions are universal, and the plot is engrossing. Although the women are the greatest focus of the novel, the male characters don’t by any means get short shrift – they’re drawn as realistically and as sympathetically as the women are.

The Forgotten Garden is a really really good novel by a young Australian author. I’ll be looking out for more of Morton’s work. She deserves a wide audience.