Today Adrian celebrated his birthday with TinTin, Dr Seuss, Mint nudges, beer and chocolate cake, phone calls, and kisses.

Adrian has achieved many extraordinary accomplishments this year. A last author paper in Nature Immunology, the recruitment and retention of some fantastic lab members, and numerous grants, all the while being an astonishingly hands-on, involved, and superfun dad and husband.

Some friends came over for a playdate and to share some cake with us – thanks to Michael for snapping this shot.

Happy Birthday Adrian.

Sara, Tracy, Michelle, Eva, and Amy have all generously sent us stories to add to Hayden’s bookshelf. While at the moment we read to him whatever we happen to be reading (thus many Norwegian grant applications courtesy of Adrian), I am looking forward to moving from picture books to his first printed words. We will be sharing our Australian culture with Diary of a Wombat, Can You Cuddle Like a Koala?, Edward the Emu, and Possom Magic, and we hope to have babysitters who can read to him titles such as Le nouvel ami de Pan-Pan and Een Gat in Mijn Emmer.

Our Brussels Book Club often features books based in the home countries of some of the members. Earlier this year, I hosted the club, served sushi and cupcakes, and chaired the discussion of The Slap by Christos Tsiolkas.

The Slap is a novel set in Australian suburbia, told from many perspectives, including that of an immigrant grandfather, a beautiful heterosexual man, an adolescent gay boy, and a childfree female writer. I found the language quite shocking, ranging from extreme cursing including the c-word as well as the racist terms such as “wog” and “lebo”. Also, from the detailed descriptions of the physical appearances of the characters, the author gave the impression that every single inhabitant of Melbourne is stunningly beautiful.

During book club we debated the main theme of the novel – was it about class or was it about immigration? The book features a contrast between the “nouvelle riche” of the first-generation Australians like Harry and the aspirations of the poor “true” Australian battlers who have fallen on hard times like Rosie. There is also tension between the parents who immigrated and their children, often seen as having an easy life without having truly earned it (“These kids, they’re unbelievable. It’s like the world owes them everything. They’ve been spoilt by their parents and by their teachers and by the f**king media to believe that they have all these rights but no responsibilities so they have no decency, no moral values whatsoever”).

There were many strong contenders for the most-hated character of the book. Was it grandfather Manolis (“Manolis doubted that there had been a day in his forties and most of his fifties that did not pass without him regretting ever marrying, without him cursing the terrible burden of having a wife and family”)? Gary, Rosie’s alcoholic husband? Harry, an angry Greek-Australian with a successful business and a mistress on the side? One of the members pointed out that while Harry constantly had very aggressive and violent thoughts, he worked hard to control these and curb his behaviour. How do we judge a man – by his thoughts or by his actions?

Most of us felt that that the author worked a little too hard to make all the characters unlikeable. Even Aishia, the ‘perfect’ wife, mother and career-woman admitted “she couldn’t leave [her husband] because her love was bound up with his beauty. She loved being next to him, adored being the most attractive couple in the room, couldn’t let that go.” However, we found some hope in the narrative of the two teenagers Connie and Richie, their friendship and hopes for the future.

I did not enjoy reading this book, and would have abandoned it early on if I could. I did not relish following the characters in the book, and felt like it was a biased and narrow exploration of Australian culture.