For fans of The Light Between Oceans, this “exquisitely written, true book of wonders” (Geraldine Brooks, Pulitzer Prize-winning author) explores the aftermath of World War II in an Australian seaside town, and the mysterious poem that changes the lives of those who encounter it.
In 1948, in a town overlooking the vast, blue ocean, Anikka Lachlan has all she ever wanted—until a random act transforms her into another postwar widow, destined to raise her daughter on her own. Awash in grief, she looks for answers in the pages of her favorite books and tries to learn the most difficult lesson of all: how to go on living.
A local poet, Roy McKinnon, experiences a different type of loss. How could his most powerful work come out of the brutal chaos of war, and why is he now struggling to regain his words and his purpose in peacetime? His childhood friend Dr. Frank Draper also seeks to reclaim his pre-war life but is haunted by his failure to help those who needed him most—the survivors of the Nazi concentration camps.
Then one day, on the mantle of her sitting room, Ani finds a poem. She knows neither where it came from, nor who its author is. But she has her suspicions. An unexpected and poignant love triangle emerges, between Ani, the poem, and the poet—whoever he may be.
Written in clear, shining prose, The Railwayman’s Wife explores the power of beginnings and endings—and how difficult it can be to tell them apart. It is an exploration of life, loss, tragedy, and joy, of connection and separation, longing and acceptance, and an unadulterated celebration of love that “will have you feeling every emotion at once” (Bustle).
Railwayman’s Wife 1 SHE SITS, her legs folded beneath her. The fingers of one hand trace the upholstery’s pattern while the other hand holds the pages of the book.
It could be any day, any year: call it 1935, 1938, 1945, or somewhere decades away in her future. Perhaps it’s the day after her wedding, the day after her daughter’s birth, the last day of the war, the last day of her life. Whenever it is, Anikka Lachlan is reading, swallowed by the shapes and spaces made by rows of dark letters on pale paper. She wets one finger, not slowly, but absently, and moves it to turn the next page.
From outside, across the roofs of this small town, comes a sharp line of noise—a train’s brakes and the squeal of wheel on rail, metal on metal. Ani looks up from the page but at nothing, and at nowhere, as if the room she’s sitting in and the rest of this whole cacophonous world do not, at this moment, quite exist.
The sound fades. The silence holds. She looks down, and finds the next word.
Join our mailing list!
Get our latest book recommendations, author news, and competitions right to your inbox.
This reading group guide for The Railwayman’s Wife includes an introduction, discussion questions, ideas for enhancing your book club, and a Q&A with author Ashley Hay. The suggested questions are intended to help your reading group find new and interesting angles and topics for your discussion. We hope that these ideas will enrich your conversation and increase your enjoyment of the book.
Amidst the strange, silent aftermath of World War II in a small Australian coastal town, a widow, a poet, and a doctor search for lasting peace and fresh beginnings in this internationally acclaimed, award-winning novel.
Topics & Questions for Discussion
1. Consider the following quote: “Mac raised his cup and paused—the smallest toast—to drink. That was marriage, he thought, remaking yourself in someone else’s image. And who knew where the truth of it began or would end?” (p. 149). Do you agree with Mac’s interpretation of marriage?
2. In response to Isabel’s question about where Mac is after death, along with fallen soldiers, Annika states: “It’s probably like your kaleidoscope: you look at one piece of space, and every tiny twist or turn multiplies that into somewhere new—somewhere different. More than enough room for everyone’s version of everyone to fit in somewhere, to be doing different things we all think they ought to be doing” (p. 154). Discuss Annika’s thoughts and feelings when confronted with information and anecdotes about Mac after his death.
3. Both Mac and Roy think of Annika as angel. Why do you think this is so?
4. What do you make of the conversation between Dr. Frank Draper and Annika in the library, on their first meeting? (pp. 85–88).
5. What role does the ocean have in each of the characters’ lives?
6. What do you think of Mac’s statement to Dr. Draper and Roy: “It’s not my war, not my world. I’d stay here, you’re right. I’d stay here and keep my wife safe, and my children.” (P. 243) To what extent was this Roy and Dr. Draper’s war?
7. Consider Roy’s poem ”Lost World” (the poem appears in its entirety pp. 183–186). Do you think it is a nexus between the world he has seen torn apart by war, and what he has found in Thirroul?
8. Annika carries Kangaroo “like a literary Baedeker” (p. 18), using it to identify places around Thirroul. Discuss the comfort she gains from using literature as a guide.
9. Discuss the effects of the war on Roy McKinnon and Dr. Frank Draper.
10. The act of mourning and memorial takes various shapes and forms in The Railwayman’s Wife—as Annika tells Isabel, “We’re his memorial, I suppose.” (p. 44). Do you think it was important to have a memorial service for Mac, even though Annika was against it? In what ways does the town differentiate between those who were killed during the war and those killed at home?
11. What did you think of Roy’s idea to leave the book of poems on Annika’s bookshelf?
12. Did you like the ending? Why or why not?
Enhance Your Book Club
1. The Australian backdrop of The Railwayman’s Wife is significant in setting the place and tone of the story, but both Annika and Mac come from rich traditional heritages as well. Research traditional Australian, Scottish, and Nordic dishes to bring to your book club’s meeting.
2. On page 84, a librarian says to Annika (paraphrasing Jorge Luis Borges’s Poema de los Dones), “I’ve always wondered if paradise might not be a little like a library.” What books would you include in your ideal library?
3. There are many works of literature and poetry that make cameos in The Railwayman’s Wife. Assign each person in your book club a second book or poem to read and discuss how it relates to the book in the context of its appearance and as a whole. A list of books may be found below:
Kangaroo – D. H. Lawrence Jane Eyre—Charlotte Bronte¨ Foal’s Bread—Gillian Mears The Service of Clouds—Delia Falconer In Falling Snow—Mary-Rose MacColl Currawalli Street—Christopher Morgan
“Everyone Sang”—Siegfried Sassoon “How Do I Love Thee?”—Elizabeth Barrett Browning “On Being Asked for a War Poem”—W. B. Yeats “Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven”—W. B. Yeats History of the Day—Stephen Edgar Over the Brazier—Robert Graves
A Conversation with Ashley Hay
What was the genesis for The Railwayman’s Wife?
My father’s father was a guard on the railways. He was killed in a workplace accident in the early 1950s, and his wife, my grandmother, was given the job of librarian in the local Railway Institute Library as a kind of compensation. I was always fascinated by this story – this gesture; I’ve since found out it wasn’t an unusual response to an accident. The widows of Australian railwaymen were sometimes given jobs as librarians, as station mistresses, as the laundresses for railway workers’ barracks and so on.
More than ten years ago, the rooms where the Railway Institute Library had been housed were opened for a local History Week event, and I went to hear my dad talk about his memories of the library his mother had run there. And while he was talking, a train came through the station – only a few feet from where we all sat, in a little building that literally butted onto the platform. It was shockingly close, and shockingly loud. And for the first time, I realized that my grandmother, in taking that job after her husband’s death, had had to work, every day, so incredibly close to the sound of the very thing that had killed him.
This isn’t the story of my grandparents, but I borrowed the idea of an accident, and a librarian’s job on the other side of it, and began to imagine a novel from this kernel.
Why did you choose to set the story in a small town about an hour south of Sydney, on the east coast of Australia?
My grandparents did live in Thirroul, and my grandmother’s job was in the Railway Institute Library. I grew up in that part of the world – it’s a beautiful landscape, with a high escarpment coming right down to meet the Tasman Sea – and I’d always wanted to write about it. When I came to begin to imagine the story of Ani and Mac, I tried other landscapes, but none of them rang true. Then I tried writing the landscape of Thirroul but changing its name and the names of other places nearby – which didn’t ring true either.
One of the reasons I was hesitant about setting the novel in Thirroul is because it’s the setting – and the birthplace – of D. H. Lawrence’s Australian novel, Kangaroo. Lawrence rented a house on the cliff-top of Thirroul during the winter of 1922 and wrote a draft of the book in six weeks. Those were some large literary footsteps in which to try to follow. The key turned out to be incorporating both the memory of D. H. Lawrence – and the book he’d written – as part of the book I was trying to imagine, making them part of Ani’s story in that way. Once I’d put that piece into place, I felt like I was able to imagine my own historical version of this small seaside village.
Why did you choose to set the book in 1948?
As someone fortunate not to have been alive during any of the 20th century’s international conflagrations, I’ve always been intrigued by the way conflicts bleed beyond the dates in which history constrains them. Ani has a line in the book about expecting World War II to be like a tap, its stop-start dates giving it a sense of a thing turned on, and then turned off. I guess it’s almost a default to think about them that way when you’re reading about them, rather than having experienced them.
But war can never be like this – no part of life is ever so corralled. By setting the story in 1948, I wanted to think about that space just after war, when everything is supposed to have returned to “normal”, and the waves of war-time deaths have stopped. I wanted to think about the space that disappears beneath the wonderful moment marked “peace”, and how complex and messy a space it might still be.
How did you choose the poetry and other writing that’s mentioned by the characters in the book?
In some cases, I chose poems and novels that resonate with me and would also make a particular sort of sense to my characters. The moment when Mr Rochester talks about being connected by a string, somewhere near the heart, to the small person of Jane Eyre – and his fear that that connection might, over too much distance, simply snap; that seemed like a perfect literary moment to give to someone who’s beginning to learn about grief, about what it is like when that cord of connection is snapped. The exhilaration of Siegfried Sassoon’s “Everybody Sang” felt like exactly the right gift to give Roy McKinnon as he tries to make sense of this other side of war – and I liked the juxtaposition of Mac Lachlan’s thick Scottish accent and the rich words of the Irish poet, W. B. Yeats.
For the books that people were borrowing in the library, I researched new releases and popular volumes that had been around in those immediate post-war years – particularly the serials and the sequels – and I gave some of those to my readers. And a long time ago, I wrote a book about Lord Byron, so when I was thinking about the kinds of love poems that Roy might turn to, I snuck in “She Walks In Beauty”, which is one of my favourites of Byron’s poems.
What is the provenance of “Lost World”, the poem Anikka Lachlan finds in a bespoke anthology that’s left for her in her house?
I wrote a draft of the poem that Ani finds when I was working on the manuscript. I remembered a poem that a friend had written years ago when we were at university – it had a line about a woman looking like “an angel in a lost world”, and that seemed like the central image that the poem in The Railwayman’s Wife needed.
But I’m not a poet, and my poem wasn’t particularly good – for one thing, it didn’t have the feel, the voice, of the poem a poet like Roy McKinnon would write in the late 1940s. For another, this poem needed to be something that would stop its reader – Ani Lachlan – in her tracks. My Australian publisher suggested that I try to find a poet who could write a poem for me, and a friend suggested the wonderful Australian poet, Stephen Edgar. I read some of his work and immediately recognized in one poem, Nocturnal, an idea that was central to the story I was trying to tell in the novel itself. (We used it as an epigraph for The Railwayman’s Wife: “It’s not what we forget / But what was never known we most regret / Discovery of.”)
So I sent one of the strangest emails I’ve ever sent – to someone I’d never met – explaining who I was, and what I was trying to do, and that I was hunting for a poet to write me a poem. Stephen Edgar was charming and friendly, and sent a very friendly message back saying he’d be happy to give it a try. He asked me just to send the skeleton of the poem I’d written, and any images or phrases that were integral to what I needed. He said he’d let me know within a week if he couldn’t come up with anything – so that I could try to find someone else.
Less than a week later, he sent me a poem, the poem that’s now in the novel. And it was perfect, completely perfect. It took my breath away. Not only was the voice of Roy McKinnon so perfectly captured; not only were all my images and ideas so beautifully incorporated into its text; not only did I know it would leave Ani speechless: the piece also had a number of intersections with other points and moments in the rest of the novel – a novel that Stephen hadn’t read. It was a moment of profound synergy or synchronicity, I think. And the poem – “Lost World” – seemed to strengthen and clarify the whole spine of the novel that I was trying to make.
But there’s a lovely postscript to this story: in 2014, The Railwayman’s Wife was shortlisted for the Colin Roderick Prize, awarded annually by the Foundation for Australian Literary Studies to the “best book reflecting Australian Life” – as was Stephen Edgar’s own verse-novel, Eldershaw. The judges chose to present the award to both our books, which I felt made Stephen Edgar the only writer to win the award twice in a year, given that his words were so integral to however my own words had worked.
Where did your characters come from – Ani, Roy, Frank and Mac?
Although Ani and Mac are not based on my grandparents – and the story in the novel is not their story – I did borrow some parts of my grandparents’ lives to vivify these fictional ones. I made Mac Scottish; I gave Ani some Scandinavian heritage. I realized, after the book was first published, that I’d fed so many bits and pieces from all sorts of branches of my family and its local history into the people I was trying to invent.
I knew very early on that Roy needed to be a poet, and I began to read about poets who’d begun to publish during WWII, and to think about people who might begin to use words that way during such extreme circumstances – I thought about people who love words, and I thought about some of the teachers I’ve been lucky enough to have, and it made sense to give that background, and that passion, to Roy.
And the genesis for the character of Frank Draper, the doctor, came from a tiny snippet of conversation with another wonderful Australian poet, Les Murray, a long time ago when I was writing a book about Australia’s iconic trees, the eucalypts. Les was talking about people from his part of the world who’d come home from World War II, and he mentioned someone who’d seen some of the German camps just after their liberation. He didn’t say much about him; he just said that he was never the same again. Frank Draper grew out of that sentence.
There’s a kind of power to the job of small-town librarian that Ani Lachlan takes on, in terms of helping people to find new or misplaced parts of themselves through the stories they read. Do you ascribe such super-powers to librarians?
I love libraries. I love the idea that you can walk into a library and disappear – just by entering this one space – into other lives, other eras, other places, other universes. I love the fact that when you go to a library to look for Book A, you invariably find Books B through Z as well, which you didn’t know you even wanted and which send you in thousands of new directions, whether you’re researching a project or simply looking for something to read. All those options; all that choice.
I think I wanted to be a librarian when I was little; I think I thought they got to sit around and read all those books all the time, and that seemed like a perfect occupation. So many people have stories of librarians who sent them off in a different direction or showed them the magic of reading or rescued them from their own particular circumstances. That has to be some kind of super-power, doesn’t it?
Ashley Hay is the internationally acclaimed author of the novels A Hundred Small Lessons, The Body in the Clouds, and The Railwayman’s Wife, which was honored with the Colin Roderick Award by the Foundation for Australian Literary Studies and longlisted for the Miles Franklin Literary Award, the most prestigious literary prize in Australia, among numerous other accolades. She has also written four nonfiction books. She lives in Brisbane, Australia.
“Exquisitely written and deeply felt, The Railwayman's Wife is limpid and deep as the rock pools on the coastline beloved by this book’s characters and just as teeming with vibrant life. Ashley Hay’s novel of love and pain is a true book of wonders.”
– Geraldine Brooks, Pulitzer Prize-winning author of The Secret Chord
“The Railwayman’s Wife is a fine evocation of place and time - a vivid love letter to a particular corner of post-war Australia. Ashley Hay writes with subtle insight about grief and loss and the heart's voyage through and beyond them. It's a lovely, absorbing, and uplifting read.”
– M.L. Stedman, author of The Light Between Oceans
“The Railwayman's Wife is a beautifully attentive study of what comes after - after a funeral, after a war - and Ashley Hay is a wise and gracious guide through this fascinating territory. This is a book in which grief and love are so entwined they make a new and wonderful kind of sense.”
– Fiona McFarlane, author of The Night Guest
“Ashley Hay weaves a moving tale of love, loss and hope.”
– Us Weekly
“Hay’s poetic gifts are evident in her descriptions of the wild coastal landscape and Roy’s measured verse. This poignant, elegant novel delves into the depth of tragedy, the shaky ground of recovery, and the bittersweet memories of lost love.”
“Multilayered, graceful, couched in poetry, supremely honest, gentle yet jarring, Hay's thought-provoking novel pulls you along slowly, like a deep river that is deceptively calm but full of hidden rapids. Much to ponder.”
– Kirkus Reviews
“Significant moments are described with astoundingly solid writing, and the coastal setting is beautifully depicted. Previously released to critical acclaim in Australia in 2013 and a 2014 winner of the Colin Roderick Prize in the UK, this second novel from Hay is the kind of slow, ruminative, evocative story that will appeal to devotees of literary fiction.”
– Library Journal
“After wow-ing European audiences, this book is coming stateside to dazzle you…Beautifully written, and featuring some excellent passages about writing and reading itself, this book will have you feeling every emotion at once.”
“Hay has lovingly crafted a poignant, character-driven novel filled with heartache and hope, which is transferred to the reader through lyrical prose, poetic dialogue and stunning imagery.”
– RT Magazine
“A literary and literate gem of a book that leaves you with a set of emotions that I suspect last for a long, long time.”
– Psychology Today
“Hay handles the delicate progress of Ani's return to the world with sympathy and toughness; she is an author in whom intellectual scope and empathetic imagination are not separate activities but two sides of the same coin…. recalls the sour-sweet best of Michael Ondaatje's fiction. Another author, Ford Madox Ford, began his The Good Soldier by claiming, 'This is the saddest story.' It isn't. That title rightly belongs to The Railwayman's Wife."
– The Australian
“In this poignant rumination on life, death, memory, dreaming and the anxious spaces in between, it's hard to find fault with a single one of Hay's words, which speak to and provoke our deepest desires for literature to transform and heal us.”
– Sydney Morning Herald
“This thoughtful, elegant portrait of lives turned inside out and finding the way forward from despair is sure to find a place in the hearts of its audience.”
– Shelf Awareness
“The Railwayman’s Wife uses beautiful prose and empathetic characters to tell a story of both hope and heartache.”
"This story is a study in emotion: grief, hope, love, redemption, and yearning. The prose is so elegant that it seems to glide.”
– Historical Novel Society
"Hay delicately threads together the lives of a widowed librarian, an unproductive poet, and a guilt-ridden doctor as they grapple with life after loss in post-World War II Thirroul, a small seaside village in New South Wales, Australia."
– Coastal Living
"[Hay's] prose style is simple yet vivid, and her insights on bereavement and moving forward are wise. Perhaps most impressive is her portrayal of the human predicament, the notion that one's heartfelt hopes are sometimes crushed against the rocks of reality."
– Star Tribune
“This novel has characters that become real to readers; you understand their grief, and the challenges they face. The Railwayman’s Wife is a story of endings and of beginnings.”
Get our latest book recommendations, author news, and competitions right to your inbox.
More books from this author: Ashley Hay
Thank you for signing up, fellow book lover!
Tell us what you like, so we can send you books you'll love.