Picnic at Hanging Rock by Joan Lindsay

Funny story - a lot of people think Picnic at Hanging Rock is based on a true story.

I had a horrible moment when I recounted this little fact to a workmate, who was all 'wtf are you on about, of course it is, I'm going to go to Macedon oneday and research it'. Me, being me, was insulted that she would doubt my awesome powers of being right and tried to explain that no, it wasn't. Then she got upset and it occurred to me that I was destroying her power of belief, which all the Christmas specials say never to do, and did some really hasty back-peddling. No, of course it's real. You're absolutely right. Just kidding.

Whew. That was a close one. Now as long as she never goes to Macedon...

This misconception can be squarely blamed on the diabolical genius of Joan Lindsay, who played up the mystery of the novel, refusing to admit one way or another whether it was true. She even wrote a final chapter that resolved the mystery but arranged for it only to be published after her death. That magnificent bitch,

In all seriousness though, Picnic at Hanging Rock's ambiguity is what makes it brilliant. There's a sense of the unfinished about it, of answers frustratingly out of reach. The lack of resolution is haunting, both for the readers and the characters. I'd argue that inability to deal with this was the villain's fatal flaw; they were so used to being absolutely in control, that the sudden lack of control was what sent them sliding down the slippery slope.

Even reality itself is on uncertain footing in this novel. As with Wuthering Heights, the supernatural keeps intruding, the border between life and death uncertain. There's a constant sense of unease, the characters suspecting on some level that the rules and logic they adhere to are an illusion. The final chapter - which can be found on Amazon but also lurks around dark corners of the internet - would elevate it to Lovecraft-style horror if weren't for the sense of wonder. In this book, chaos is beautiful and wondrous, and it's loss is crushing.

Picnic at Hanging Rock is a classic for a reason. In my mind it's the Australian Wuthering Heights, ditching the romance and raising the permeability of its reality to an art form. Its writing is gorgeous and unsettling, and everyone ever should read it. No doubt somewhere in the afterlife Joan Lindsay is smirking at having the best marketing campaign prior the Blair Witch Project.