
Fiction – paperback; Transit Lounge; 304 pages; 2026. Review copy courtesy of the publisher.
How could I not read a book with such an intriguing cover image and title?
Brendan Colley’s The Season for Flying Saucers is one of those new breed of eccentric and entertaining Australian novels that appear to be about one off-the-wall subject but are really about something else entirely.
I’m thinking Rhett Davis’ Arborescence, which is about people turning into trees but is really about grief and the unstable boundaries between humans and the natural world, and Jock Serong’s Cherrywood (review forthcoming), which is about a city pub that moves location but is really about community and belonging.
Or even Robbie Arnott’s Dusk, about the search for an elusive puma in the highlands of Tasmania, which is a thinly disguised call to leave nature alone.
In all these books, the reader has to accept a strange premise for the story to work.
Colley asks us to do the same in The Season for Flying Saucers. Here, a family in modern-day Hobart is being targeted by aliens from outer space, though their purpose is never fully explained. Yet this is not really a book about aliens. It is about family, connection and the need to believe in something beyond ourselves.
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