Brendan Colley’s debut novel, The Signal Line, won the 2019 Tasmanian Premier’s Literary Prize for an Unpublished Manuscript, and was shortlisted for the Victorian Premier’s Literary Awards and The Age Book of the Year Awards. His second book, The Season for Flying Saucers, is an exploration of meaning, belief and acceptance. As literary fiction, it’s not the conventional sci-fi novel you might expect based on the title, but it will hold your attention.
Set in present-day Tasmania, the narrative centres on the Greys, a human family, not an alien species, who have been locally-infamous since their patriarch was abducted by a UFO 13 years ago. Yes, the surname is a little on the nose, but it works.
Every summer, the Greys’ Tasmanian town attracts crowds of dedicated UFO enthusiasts, some of whom are hoping for their own abduction experience.
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Abduction or desertion?
Some background context; Warwick Grey first experienced the mysterious lights during a childhood UFO encounter. The experience awakened a yearning in him, and for years he watched the sky, awaiting the return of the lights. The lights did return, and they took the willing Warwick with them, leaving his wife and children behind.
Warwick’s family have never completely forgiven his eager desertion, nor have their own interpersonal dynamics recovered from the emotional fallout.
Years pass. Warwick’s son Noah purchases his childhood home in a misguided attempt to replace his fractured past with a better present – only for his own marriage to fail, leaving him alone in an empty house with only a desk, chair, typewriter, bedding and a collection of family photographs for company.
Now estranged from his ex-wife and his family of origin, Noah is slightly broken, but not without heart. He hasn’t seen his mother Patricia or sister Martha in 12 years, although he and Martha have been writing to one another over the last few months.
In Martha’s most recent letter to Noah, she reveals that she – and their mother, Patricia – are in need of a place to stay. At around the same time, Noah loses his job, and Warwick reappears out of the blue, intending to stay with Noah for the summer UFO season.
Speculative fiction that plays with metaphor
The UFO abductions within this narrative are very literal, but could also be symbolic of a willingness to relegate one’s autonomy, or function as a metaphor for relinquishing life itself. One passage translates the phrase ‘we thought you were dead’ as ‘He means “abducted forever; the equivalent”‘.
Noah’s poetry, which is sprinkled throughout the text, is both an analogue for his mental state and an exploration in intent, with symbolic undertones. One early passage declares: ‘If a mothership passing overhead / detects my malaise / I will come willingly’.
Later, Noah writes: ‘but no one wants to be scooped away / not really / a person only wants to be heard / or seen’.
Meaning and value are embedded in various phrases and objects by the characters, becoming beacons of belief. Alongside Noah’s poetry, there’s the collection of photographs on his mantlepiece, which functions as a precursor to the reunion of his family. But in every case, it is the attribution of significance, not the physical proxy, that makes an item or phrase significant. As Sarah says to Noah, ‘Search for something long enough, it will find you’.
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Putting the pieces back together
Against all odds, the Greys are reunited after their emotionally complex separation, and find themselves living together under the roof of their shared family history. Patricia isn’t interested in communicating with her ex-husband, and her strained relationship with Noah causes underlying tension.
Martha is having issues with her wife, and is more comfortable communicating with animals than members of her own family. Each of the Greys have their own secret pains and painful secrets. To build themselves up, they must dig down.
Reclaimed memories become reignited connections as the Greys explore the difference between living and existing, gifts and passions, seeing and not seeing. Alive with the minutiae of the mundane, this book is profound without being pretentious. Plot twists in the form of revelations take the reader by surprise, although all the clues are there.
More complex than it presents itself as being, the layers of this story unfold in their true form towards the end of the book, triggering an impulse to return to the beginning. In doing so, you will find that the people you thought you saw are not the people you thought you saw. A second reading of this transformative story tells a deeper story the second time around.
Colley’s real story isn’t the literal plot; it’s the concepts explored through qualia, observation and belief. These characters – and those in their community – engage in the existential act of meaning-making in distinctly personal ways. Sometimes with loneliness, often with an appreciation of absurdity, these actions are always written with understated insight.
The Season for Flying Saucers takes readers on an introspective journey through nihilism, misdirection and heartfelt conviction. Every word is chosen with intent, imbued with meaning and beautifully written. If you choose this book for its title, you won’t be disappointed. But even if you have no interest in UFOs, it’s a glorious book, as the saying goes, if you have the courage.
