Award-winning historian and poet Robert Kenny believed his property in the small Victorian town of Redesdale was well prepared for any foreseeable fire emergency. Located in mostly cleared farmland between Bendigo and Mount Macedon, Kenny’s house and nearby buildings, including a shed converted to a studio, were protected by a pump and several large water tanks. Potential entry points for embers were covered with wire flyscreen. Just in case, he kept a supply of emergency clothing beside his back door: ‘denim jeans, woollen socks, fire-rated work boots, leather gloves, thick cotton shirt, pullover, masks and goggles, and a wide-brimmed hat.’

On 7 February 2009, thereafter known as ‘Black Saturday’, all Kenny’s preparations were put to the test. In extreme heat and strong desiccating northerly winds, large areas of Victoria erupted into wildfires. Further to the east, in the ranges not far from Melbourne, conditions were catastrophic: whole communities were destroyed, and 173 people died. For most of the day, it seemed that Redesdale would be out of harm’s way, despite a sky ominously filled with distant smoke. Then, at three o’clock, Kenny observed ‘other smoke now, a too distinct huge column, darkly billowing up ... to the north-west, one or two kilometres away, directly upwind from my house’.

Before long, the fire front is upon him. ‘Two-metre high flames rise from apparently bare earth ... Then the fire hits the house. It seems to shudder at the impact.’ At first, it appears that the building will survive, despite the inability of the water pump to operate under such extreme conditions. But embers find their way in and Kenny must run for his life, leaving his cat to its own devices. From the temporary security of his studio, all he can see is ‘just a doorway into a flaming home’. There is nothing more he can do.

‘If this book were simply a well-written account of an individual’s encounter with a bushfire, it would already be worthwhile. However, it is much more than that.’

Kenny’s dramatic descriptions of the fire, how it moved through his property, and his reactions to the situation in which he found himself are extraordinary pieces of writing: compact, emotionally compelling, free of cliché and melodrama. His combination of clear observation with intense personal reflection captures an almost unbearable tension between panic and calm, careful decision-making and spur-of-the-moment actions. Although most of us have seen video reportage of the fires, Kenny’s text provides another level of received experience for the reader.

If this book were simply a well-written account of an individual’s encounter with a bushfire, it would already be worthwhile. However, it is much more than that. As implied by the book’s subtitle, Kenny has combined his personal experience with a wonderfully eclectic investigation into not only the physical nature of fire, but the fraught interactions between society, culture, and fire. Fire has been a constant companion of humanity dating back at least to Homo erectus, the hominid species that precede our own by nearly one million years. Consequently, almost all cultures have myths and stories built around the origin of fire, its central importance to human life, and the necessity of controlling it adequately. Examples from Kenny’s exploration range from ancient Greek myths of Prometheus to the Dreaming stories of Aboriginal Australians.

As Kenny’s own story moves on, the nature of the investigations changes. More and more, they illustrate the increasing difficulties he encountered as he dealt with his changing emotional status, his interactions with the broader community, both local and virtual, and the substantial problems inextricably linked to his plans to rebuild. So, he leads us through discussions on the use of asbestos in Australian domestic architecture or the mismatches between existing building codes and recommendations for the construction of fire-resistant dwellings which impact directly on his plans.

The results of these investigations are fascinating and provide a more or less objective framework for Kenny’s own story. But what draws the reader into this book, long after the fires have died down, are Kenny’s descriptions of his fluctuating inner state, contrasted with various psychological theories of Jung and others, the fluid structure of communities, and reflected in his dealings with various local, state and federal authorities. Underpinning it all is a sense of loss, somehow more than the sum of the individual items and property physically annihilated by the fire. ‘Everything destroyed remains wrenched from me ... This is another grief. A grief for the self that yet still lives.’ The looming despair is amplified by Kenny’s self-perception as a loner, albeit one who must ultimately accept the help of the community in which he is embedded. ‘Why do we feel so humbled by people’s attention to us?’ he asks. ‘Waves of sympathy, both from those immediately around me and from the air of general society, swamp any feelings of being alone that day.’

There are no chapters in this book. Instead, the bulk of it is constructed as two series of small sections, some as short as a single paragraph, few longer than three or four pages. The first sequence deals with events of the fire itself and its immediate aftermath; the second covers the following twelve months. In less capable hands, this structure could have ended up as little more than a list of loosely connected anecdotes and variably didactic footnotes. But Kenny manages to keep control beautifully as he gradually, painfully, comes to grips with his evolving inner turmoil.

Fundamental to Kenny’s self-analysis is his relation to nature. Can ‘pristine nature’ exist in the modern world? After the work of Darwin, ‘if nature is nothing but flux ... then what meaning do we have?’ Kenny came to the land from the city to ‘get close to life’ and had no illusions about rural living. Indeed, at various times, he had ‘hated this country’. In the end, he clearly still loves it, respects it, feels it as part of his life.

Ultimately, this is not just a book about bushfires, but a deeply personal story of memory and relationship: with people, with place, with loss itself. Even more, it is about the ‘redemptive harmony’ that Kenny still seeks. To quote one of his neighbours, a tradesman helping with the eventual rebuild of his house, ‘That’s what we’re here for.’