Hannah Kent
Hannah Kent
Hannah Kentis a contemporary Australian writer, and the author of the bestselling novel Burial Rites...
NationalityAustralian
ProfessionWriter
CountryAustralia
lonely ravens lambs
So lonely I make friends with the ravens that prey on lambs.
trouble
When did a smile ever get anyone into trouble?
prayer light air
How can I say what it was like to breathe again? I felt newborn. I staggered in the light of the world and took deep gulps of fresh sea air. It was late in the day: the wet mouth of the afternoon was full on my face. My soul blossomed in that brief moment as they led me out of doors. I fell, my skirts in the mud, and I turned my face upwards as if in prayer. I could have wept from the relief of light.
sight miserable my-family
If I believed everything everyone had ever told me about my family I'd be a sight more miserable than I am now
iceland firsts stories
I first heard the story of Agnes Magnusdottir when I was an exchange student in the north of Iceland.
writing iceland trying
I have a deep and ongoing love of Iceland, particular the landscape, and when writing Burial Rites, I was constantly trying to see whether I could distill its extraordinary and ineffable qualities into a kind of poetry.
self people doubt
People speak of the fear of the blank canvas as though it is a temporary hesitation, a trembling moment of self-doubt. For me it was more like being abducted from my bed by a clown, thrust into a circus arena with a wicker chair, and told to tame a pissed-off lion in front of an expectant crowd.
beautiful iceland mountain
In Iceland, you can see the contours of the mountains wherever you go, and the swell of the hills, and always beyond that the horizon. And theres this strange thing: youre never sort of hidden; you always feel exposed in that landscape. But it makes it very beautiful as well.
people listening sitting-down
It’s not fair. People claim to know you through the things you’ve done, and not by sitting down and listening to you speak for yourself.
eggs ravens dove
No doves come from ravens’ eggs
ice feelings together
A bubble of fear passes up my spine. It's the feeling of standing on ice and suddenly hearing it crack under your weight - both thrilling and terrifying together.