While they are certainly lesser themes within Marsden’s novel, writing and storytelling are nevertheless important aspects of Tomorrow, When the War Began. The story is told through Ellie, an Australian teenager nominated by her friends to record their experiences after their country is invaded by an unknown foreign power. Ellie is the best writer among her friends, and they elect her as Australia’s Poet Laureate when they fear their small group of eight is all that remains of their country. Their story is important, Ellie and her friends contend, and it ought to be told. Storytelling also comes into play with the legend of the Hermit who once lived in Hell, the remote bush where Ellie and her friends hide out from the invading soldiers. According to local legend, the Hermit was a violent murderer who killed his wife and infant son in cold blood; however, the evidence Ellie and her friends find in the Hermit’s bush hut suggests otherwise. Through Tomorrow, When the War Began, Marsden highlights the advantages and limitations of storytelling and ultimately argues that preserving one’s story is important, both personally and for posterity.
When the novel opens, Ellie explains that her friends have nominated her to write their story, immediately introducing the importance of storytelling within the novel. Recording their story is important to Ellie and her friends. “It’s terribly, terribly important,” Ellie writes, adding, “Recording what we’ve done, in words, on paper, it’s got to be our way of telling ourselves that we mean something, that we matter.” Preserving their story means that their hardships during the war haven’t been for nothing. Furthermore, Ellie and her friends believe that their efforts in the war have made a difference. “I don’t know how big a difference,” Ellie writes, “but a difference. Writing it down means we might be remembered.” Ellie and her friends just might be the last free Australians left, and their experiences are important to future generations. “None of us wants to end up as a pile of dead white bones, unnoticed, unknown, and worst of all, with no one knowing or appreciating the risks we’ve run,” Ellie continues. By the end of the novel, there is no guarantee that Ellie and her friends will survive the war, and without preserving their story, it will be like they never existed in the first place.
Despite the importance the novel places on writing and storytelling, they aren’t perfect forms of preserving the past, which underscores the fundamental limitations of storytelling. While Ellie and her friends are hiding out in Hell, they discover the Hermit’s old hut and some of his personal effects, including a letter that implies he was actually innocent in the murder of his wife and son. Without the letter, Ellie and her friends would have known nothing about the Hermit, “except the rumors, which really told [them] so little.” In the case of the Hermit, local legends and stories are largely wrong, illustrating the problems inherent to storytelling. In a similar vein, after Ellie and her friends hear a rare news report about the war, Homer suggests they each write down what they remember and compare notes. When they share their notes ten minutes later, it is “amazing how different the versions [are].” They are only able to agree on the important details, like the fact that the war is not on a global scale and seems to be limited to Australia. Despite living the experience firsthand and having access to the same kinds of information, their accounts are wholly different. Both the Hermit and Ellie’s friends’ experiences with recording and storytelling prove that details big and small can be left out of stories and other historical records and accounts, which again underscores storytelling’s limits.
By the end of the novel, Ellie and her friends’ story is not yet over. There is no end to the war in sight, and they have no idea what the future holds. Still, Ellie and her friends are determined to share their story. “It’s a big thing to leave a record,” Ellie writes, “to be remembered,” and they are hoping, at the very least, that their story survives.
Related Themes from Other Texts
Writing and Storytelling ThemeTracker
Writing and Storytelling Quotes in Tomorrow, When the War Began
I don’t know if I’ll be able to do this. I might as well say so now. I know why they chose me, because I’m meant to be the best writer, but there’s a bit more to it than just being able to write. There’s a few little things can get in the way. Little things like feelings, emotions.
Well, I’d better stop biting my tongue and start biting the bullet. There’s only one way to do this and that’s to tell it in order, chronological order. I know writing it down is important to us. That’s why we all got so excited when Robyn suggested it. It’s terribly, terribly important. Recording what we’ve done, in words, on paper, it’s got to be our way of telling ourselves that we mean something, that we matter. That the things we’ve done have made a difference. I don’t know how big a difference, but a difference. Writing it down means we might be remembered. And by God that matters to us. None of us wants to end up as a pile of dead white bones, unnoticed, unknown, and worst of all, with no one knowing or appreciating the risks we’ve run.
Finally we came to an agreement, and it wasn’t too bad, considering. We could take the Land Rover but I was the only one allowed to drive it, even though Kevin had his P’s and I didn’t. But Dad knows I'm a good driver. We could go to the top of Tailor’s Stitch. We could invite the boys but we had to have more people: at least six and up to eight. That was because Mum and Dad thought there was less chance of an orgy if there were more people. Not that they'd admit that was the reason—they said it was to do with safety—but I know them too well.
And yes. I’ve written that “o” in “know” carefully—I wouldn’t want it to be confused with an “e.”
“Maybe all my mother’s stories made me think of it before you guys. And like Robyn said before, if we’re wrong,” he was struggling to get the words out, his face twisting like someone having a stroke, “if we’re wrong you can laugh as long and loud as you want. But for now, for now, let’s say it’s true. Let’s say we’ve been invaded. I think there might be a war.”
