Bri Lee’s debut novel, The Work, is torn between two books. One is a half hearted interrogation of capital and power and their influence on art, told via millennial characters whose hubris and privilege speak of who wields control in creative industries. The other is a modern romance between two people with a mutual yet sparring love of art in a novel that mostly treats art and artists like a beguiling yet uninterrogated backdrop – like a painting in a restaurant.
Lee’s other works – the acclaimed Eggshell Skull and two follow-ups, Beauty and Who Gets to Be Smart – are each memoir-infused nonfiction, respectively tackling Australia’s inadequate justice system for sexual assault and rape survivors, beauty standards and institutions, and correlations between privilege and knowledge. In her foray into fiction, Lee brings her familiarity with sociocultural issues – and parts of herself again, as she’s mentioned – to The Work, using the lens of gender inequity, power and class to scrutinise the cultural sector’s gatekeepers and profiteers.
