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October 2, 2017 | by  | in Books |
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Iceland — Dominic “Tourettes” Hoey

I really want to go to Iceland. I couldn’t say why — I’m not a tramper and I find New Zealand repetitive. But Iceland in my mind is snow-covered sheet rock, blue silt hot pools, quietness, openness.

I saw this movie with my brother called Rams. It’s set on an Icelandic sheep farm. Imagine an Otago sheep farm in the 1970s, and you would have the same movie set, down to the floral wallpaper, the fridge brand, the mugs, the jerseys.

It’s us, a million miles separated. We must be cousins.

Poet and author Dominic “Tourettes” Hoey has written a novel titled Iceland — an ambitious scope. I’ll save myself the time and let him explain it to you: “It [is] a story of trying to turn your passion into an escape plan, a story about drugs and sex and the drudgery of unemployment, a story about what happens when one day you wake up and you find yourself living in a memory, a story about the past and an empty future, a love story about the place I grew up in.”

I think it’s a very familiar story. It’s something almost all New Zealanders feel, their whole lives or just for a fleeting, confusing second. They realise they have to escape off the island and go as far away as possible, or else… the “or else” is unknown… we just have to get far enough away that we lose all context, and we can figure out what we are when it’s just us. Personally, I went to Canada.

Hoey and his Australian singer-songwriter friend “Skyscraper” Stanley Woodhouse (why the nicknames? I don’t know, let’s just embrace it) will be on tour in New Zealand in November, including in Wellington at Meow on November 11 as part of LitCrawl.

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