Triumphalism is an attitude rarely found in the writing of Tim Winton. More often than not his stories are tales imbued with regret and tragedy. Frequently unremarkable, even ordinary, his characters are scarred and broken people whose misfortunes are achingly obvious. Not that Winton is dismissive of those about whom he writes. Quite the opposite, this Australian author is a master at finding consequence in the ordinary. In this regard The Turning is no different.

With its share of sadness, The Turning reveals men and women at crisis point. They are characters with troubled pasts and difficult futures.

The Turning, Winton's nineteenth book, is not a novel but neither is it simply a collection of short stories. Connected through character, location and the bitter themes of disappointment, shame and sorrow, these vignettes form a unified whole.

The fictional town of Angelus is the setting for most of the narratives. A former whaling town on the south coast of Western Australia, Angelus is a rainy, sallow place which harbours corruption and discontent.

Of the seventeen stories nine focus on the Lang family, particularly Vic Lang. Son of a copper, Vic and his family are reluctant residents of Angelus. Something is awry in the town, among the police. Something to which Senior Constable Bob Lang is not privy. Through the different stories we see Bob's decline and the impact it has upon his family, particularly the teenage Vic.

Adolescence was a formative time for Vic Lang. During his pubescent years he experienced more than his share of loss and death. As an adult he becomes fixated by these years, by those he loved and those who left. Winton uses shifting perspectives and changes in narrative style to explore his youth and adulthood, his fraught relationship with his mother and his crumbling relationship with his wife.

The title story falls in the middle of the book and it's one of the more distressing narratives. Raelene lives with her husband Max and their two daughters in a caravan park in White Point. It's a fairly mean existence. Money is tight and when Max isn't working or at the pub he's knocking Rae around.

Raelene forms an unlikely friendship with Sherry and Dan. New to White Point, this couple seems to have everything that Rae lacks. It's something of a surprise for Rae that what she is most drawn to is not their physical attractiveness or even their affectionate marriage. It's their faith she wants.

“Rae warmed to the idea of Jesus and forgiveness. The word sacrifice gave her goosebumps, reminding her of gory midday movies from childhood. She could see for herself what all this guff had done for Sherry and Dan; it was the thing that lit them up and she leaned toward it, even pined for it.” (p. 149)

While the search for redemption is a fairly prevalent theme in fiction it doesn't feel clichéd in The Turning. The book deals with self-examination as the characters are forced to confront difficult truths about themselves and their lives.

Winton has never been a writer to spell things out or offer neat conclusions. His writing is most fecund when it alludes and intimates. He draws in his audience with raw detail and realism before retreating at the stories' close.

Eloquent and spare, his prose evokes moments of delight and sorrow with equal poise.

While some may yearn for the uplifting warmth of Cloudstreet (and who can blame them) The Turning, moving in its bleakness, is a rewarding read.

This is Winton at his best.