Taylor, a Nyoongar elder in Western Australia renowned as a poet and storyteller, recalls his childhood at the New Norcia Mission, north of Perth, in the 1950–60 period. This autobiography ranges from angry and accusatory to thoughtful and sardonic.

Infamous because of the historic child sexual abuse carried out there by the Spanish Benedictine monks, New Norcia is now a serene and beautiful settlement north of Perth. It once had ‘orphanages’ for Aboriginal boys and girls, alongside boarding schools for white children. Some of those ‘orphans’ had parents and had been removed from them, but in Taylor’s case, he had begged to stay when the family visited his older brother there.

His descriptions of the flogging priests and nuns, as well as their verbal abuse, are hard to read. Even sadder is the fact that those small boys learnt to cry silently as they lay in their beds. For Taylor, told daily that he would amount to nothing, and that God would come down from Heaven and take him to Hell if he used his native language, pen and paper were his salvation.

The book is a series of vignettes, memories of specific events, lessons, sport, punishments, and even his own version of the New Testament, with Saint Peter a drunk and Judas a good guy. The nearby bush was a major relief from the privations of the mission, where the boys were fed sheep’s head broth while the priests ate lamb chops and fresh vegetables.

He writes that while denied access to his family, at least he learnt to read and write, unlike Aboriginal children living on reserves with their families. And with that knowledge, he immersed himself in the mission library, making Shakespeare and Michelangelo his inspiration.

Taylor admits to sneaking the altar wine when nine years old, going on to rely on alcohol later as an adult, as did many of his contemporaries, and maintains if it was not for the pen, he would have drunk himself to death. Twenty-five years after he ran away from the New Norcia Mission, aged 14, Taylor was invited back, to give a Welcome to Country at a conference. This he did, but in English, as the skinny kid inside him still didn’t want to commit a mortal sin by speaking his native language.

Reviewed by Jennifer Somerville