Tim Winton is at his most viscerally powerful in this boy's vision of the world: the dreamed, the lived, the imagined, and the sharp consolations of faith.

Tim Winton is at his most viscerally powerful in this boy's vision of the world: the dreamed, the lived, the imagined, and the sharp consolations of faith.

Tim Winton's That Eye, the Sky is a tale about a boy’s vision of the world beyond, and the blurry distinctions between the natural and supernatural.

At twelve years old, Morton – Ort for short – is not quite a child, but not yet an adult; his isolated outback world is an intriguing combination of boyish innocence, adolescent confusion and burgeoning awareness. When his father is seriously injured in a car crash, however, that world is suddenly thrown into complete disarray and the whole family have to adjust.

As Ort, his sister, mother and grandmother are struggling to come to terms with what has happened, a stranger appears in their midst. Preaching God’s word, Henry Warburton’s unexpected arrival seems eerily prescient, at a time when the family most need a helping hand, and Henry quickly makes himself indispensable. In fact, for Ort in particular, it is Henry’s presence, perhaps more even than his father’s accident, that brings the greatest change to his world.

‘The great strength of the novel is in the way the grotesque contrasts and parallels in human life are spread out, examined and accepted.’ – Los Angeles Times