THE ICE IS COMING

Twice bestirred, twice entangled in human affairs (An Older Kind of Magic, The Nargun and the Stars), the earth-spirits Wrightson has invoked from Australian aboriginal lore are now ubiquitous, a primordial underground—whose rising, previously an incident, takes on the dimensions and import of a Flood. Or, in the careless heat of an Australian Christmas season, of an incipient ice age. On the continent's green edges live the Happy Folk; scattered behind are the Inlanders and the land's own dark-skinned People (with appropriate eco-moral values: the coastal city dwellers, the residents of the outback, and the Aborigines). An icy blast in the desert, the local People's knowledge of the ice-bearded, clamorous Ninya ("No men left to sing them back into their caves")—plus newspaper reports of sudden, approaching frosts—take young Wirrun of the People from his city gasstation job to fight the peril that only he recognizes. As sidekick he has the petulant, wispy Mimi, stick-figure femme fatale; for protection, the Power bestowed by the first of the creatures in their path. Wirrun has sent for the men from Mount Conner to sing the Ninya down; what he must also do, he learns, is beat the Ninya to the Eldest Nargun, source of fire, and rouse it to hold them until the men arrive. In the final seaside reckoning, however, the liveliest part is played by some Aboriginals Wirrun enlists—and by an observant Inlander tipped off because, for once, he sees the People "brisk and in good humor." Apart from the Happy Folk caricature, Wrightson does well by her character mix—even allowing the Mimi, most sensitive of spirits, to remind Wirrun of "the curious thing that men were made for: to care." The levity and sentiment are a relief from the ponderousness—itself redeemed, in large measure, by Wrightson's precise, muscular writing.