Truth and fiction

Peter Temple Photo: Dallas Kilponen This year's Miles Franklin Award winner Peter Temple has redefined the literary boundaries of crime writing. He spoke to Jason Steger about why anything goes. WHEN Peter Temple first won a Ned Kelly award for crime writing, it was for his debut novel, Bad Debts. On a Saturday afternoon in a smoky Prahran bar, Temple was chuffed to accept ''the Nobel for crime fiction, novice division''. That was 13 years ago and the novice has become the master. Not only has he collected another four Neds, but he also picked up the big one at the 2007 British Crime Writers' Association awards, the Duncan Lawrie Dagger, for The Broken Shore. The Ballarat-based writer has won so many Neds that he has decided that his most recent novel, Truth, should not be considered for this year's prizes. ''To clear some small space for the many talented crime writers who haven't won a Ned or been shortlisted.'' But it was only the Neds he was worried about; there was no mention of the Miles Franklin. On Tuesday night Temple followed in the footsteps of more conventionally literary writers such as Tim Winton, Thea Astley and Patrick White by winning Australia's pre-eminent prize for fiction. Advertisement: Story continues below Temple chooses not to describe himself as a crime writer but he is happy for others to do so. ''As far as I am concerned I write novels and other people can do the labelling,'' he said yesterday. But he uses crime in the same way that Graham Greene would in ''entertainments'' such as Brighton Rock. ''It's a wonderful vehicle. What is more at the heart of social life than the crime against the person? I see it as an excuse for beginning the narrative. It has its own logic and relentless drive. It is a reason for things to happen and for the way characters behave.'' Some might say that giving Temple the Miles was a brave decision by the judges. Although he is much more than a conventional crime writer, it is the first time that a so-called genre writer has won the award. It's hard to think of a major prize Rosetta Stone V3 for literary fiction in the English-speaking world that has gone to a crime writer. Stylists as elegant and original as Raymond Chandler were never honoured in this way. And when Tom Robb Smith's Child 44, a serial-killer thriller set in Stalin's Soviet Union, was long-listed for the Man Booker a couple of years ago, there was something of a stink. Truth is a companion book to The Broken Shore rather than a sequel. Its main character, Stephen Villani, popped up in the earlier book but was not a major character. Now head of homicide, he is dealing with the ghastly murders of two young women and endeavouring to deal with the dismal state of his marriage, his on-off affair with a television journalist and his role as a father, a brother and, significantly, a son. All this in a Melbourne enveloped in the stench of political and corporate corruption and a countryside that is about to burst into flames. When he accepted the award, Temple said the judges might cop a bit of flak; you do the crime you do the time, was his line. But Morag Fraser, spokesperson for the judges, says they have received no criticism for their decision. Truth is distinctive, she says, because of the way Temple uses language. ''There is pleasure in every sentence. He is a considerable craftsman. And there is deep investment in the moral lives of his characters. Villani is really three-dimensional.'' Temple has written four novels about his Fitzroy-based character, Jack Irish - Bad Debts, Black Tide, Dead Point and White Dog. Another three - An Iron Rose, Shooting Star and In the Evil Day are stand-alone novels. The The Broken Shore and Truth is a sequence that may turn into a loose trilogy. Critic and editor Peter Craven says Temple is ''one of those exceptional writers who break down the distinction between art and trash; between quality literary writing and popular yarn spinning''. ''He's always been a class act and you could tell with the Jack Irish novels that you were in the hands of an elegant stylist.