Did you know that the average life expectancy of a homeless woman in Britain is forty three? The author of this profound and lyrical book considers herself lucky because she is not one of them, or not yet, because she’s free, not one of the 28 million refugees and asylum seekers ‘hoping for sanctuary in hostile countries like mine’ and she isn’t one of the ’65 million forced out of their home by war or famine or persecution.’ (p. 30)
…if food prices had risen as fast as house prices in the last two decades, a chicken would cost £51 (or in London £100).
Teetering on the brink of homelessness herself, Davies explains how she came to camp and later put down roots in the long-disused old shed where her dad used to work.
I think that, with the increasing loss of workers’ rights, (in the UK and Australia at least) we live in a feudal society once more, only now the robber barons have electronic surveillance over us peasants. Homesick outlines some of the history of how we got here and tells the story of the author’s parents moving to England from Wales to give their children a better life. When interest rates doubled overnight her dad lost his business and the family lost their home. Her mother became depressed and things went downwards from there.
In Australia too we’ve seen workers’ rights eroded in the past quarter century and also the rights of ordinary people in most other areas, as NeoLiberalism (called Economic Rationalism here in the 1990s and followed by both major parties ever since) has grown to dominate every detail of our lives. – You know the score: outsource government responsibilities to private businesses and use the public money to make the rich richer, paying lip service to the quaint democratic concept of “serving the public” by getting Marketing to come up with an egalitarian-sounding label for the service.
In Britain Margaret Thatcher started it off back in 1980, selling off public housing and calling it ‘Right To Buy’. Rich people bought them and now lease them but charge at twice the rate of social housing, meaning that the author’s mother – and countless unemployed people like her – could no longer afford to pay the rent.
Recently Geoff Fairburn, CEO of a building company awarded Government ‘Help to Buy’ contracts recently awarded himself a bonus of £75 million – initially £100 million but he was persuaded to reduce it. That bonus would have been enough to build well over a thousand good-quality, sustainable public houses.
Catrina Davies states that if food prices had risen as fast as house prices in the last two decades, a chicken would cost £51 (or in London £100). It’s the same in Australia, swapping Sydney or any of our capital cities for London. Imagine going into Woolies for a roast chook in say, Canberra’s Dickson, and paying $200 for it.
She points out the irony of turning houses into money and homes into casino chips: that it undermines everybody’s freedom, that of the rich and middle class as well as the poor. Surveys have repeatedly shown that above the level necessary to sustain a reasonably well-fed, healthy, okay-housed life, money doesn’t make people happier.
So much more than one person’s story, this book is a clarion call to all of us as we teeter on the brink of a fate much worse than homelessness, though in most cases it will include that, as bushfires and rising seas, floods and mudslides claim more and more of our homes, thanks to governments like those in Australia being bought off by their fossil fuel masters and using marketers to persuade enough voters in marginal seats that this is not the case.
If I’ve made Homesick sound depressing, it’s not. It’s an uplifting read with descriptions of nature from a unique voice. Davies is a surfer, with an educated eye for weather indications and seals and other sea creatures she lives near on the Cornish coast. For more on this talented person see https://catrinadavies.co.uk/
I loved this book, loved being absorbed by the sea and sky, animals and birds, and the author’s verve, clarity and dry wit. The writing is so beautiful and the story so compelling that I didn’t want it to end. Its lyrical and profound words linger in the mind long after the last page is read. It’s only February and already I’m recommending two books in the spirit of If-you-only-read-one-book-this-year-make-it-this-one! Clearly it’s more realistic to have one a month. I can say: Sand Talk for January (see last month’s blog) and Homesick for February. Homesick: Why I live in a shed is published by Riverrun, 2019.
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