REVIEWER: Graham Seal

Susan Sickert's account of Broome's early history replaces the usually romanticised view of that settlement with grittier and sometimes sordid realities.

The book's title refers to the author's focus on the everyday lives of Broome and its peoples rather than the view from the latticed verandahs of the privileged few. In carrying out this aim, Sickert provides a richly illustrated and well-researched social and cultural history of Broome and its multi-ethnic population up to around the 1950s.

It is difficult to be more precise about when this book ends as it proves the adage that the past always haunts the present. One of the book's many strengths is its continual connecting of history to the recent and current situation in Broome.

Officially proclaimed a town in 1883, Broome had only one major reason for being. The pearl industry was the anchor of the economy and of the distinctive society that developed upon its base, thriving and occasionally prospering until World War 2. After the war the combined effects of evacuation and the wide spread of plastic buttons ensured the end of Broome's great sea pearling days.

As this book makes clear in clear words and sepia pictures, those days were great ones for the elites, the mainly white men who controlled the pearling industry. In a particularly naked way, the history of Broome reveals the extent to which the many can be exploited by the few (a revelation also confirmed in another recent book on the pearl industry, The Price of a Pearl by Rod Dickson, reviewed in these pages). Sickert's judicious choice of documentary and oral history quotes, combined with a selection of telling historical photographs, produces a compelling account of the hardships of labour, life and environment in the exotic outpost of the British empire that was Broome.

The story covers a great range of topics, including the nature of working life in the pearl industry, the dangers of diving and the deep divisions between the great variety of ethnic groups employeded in that business and those that depended upon it.

The rigid system of class and colour that developed in Broome is a case study of discrimination, segregation and extreme prejudice that continues to impact on the modern Broome, as a number of those interviewed for the book make clear. Allan Bin Salleh, recollecting on his childhood experiences of discrimination says:

'This was given to us, as kids, this class distinction … Race is an undercurrent issue in Broome. Always was and always will be, if not even more prominent now.'

Through these more depressing realities Sickert weaves informative and interesting discussions and accounts of leisure activities, the distinctiveness of Broome's tropical architecture, its festivals and its now mostly bulldozed shopping and red light areas. A number of boxed vignettes dealing with Broome identities and characters are scattered throughout the book, complementing the main text without unduly obstructing the main narrative.

Slightly at odds with these realities – or perhaps compensating for them - is the design and layout of this book. Beyond the Lattice is a pleasure to look at and to hold. Designer and editors have produced an outstanding example of the modern paperback book.

Also counterpointing the realities of Broome's past are a number of stunning modern colour photographs of the Broome region and its natural beauty. Most of these are by the author, though there are also some outstanding contributions from Rod Hartvigsen.

A couple of quibbles: the ages of the oral history informants are not always clear, so it is not always apparent to which era they are referring. Quite a few of the historical photographs are undated, an often unavoidable but irritating situation. Such minor issues do not seriously detract from a book that informs as it pleases.