In the print media over the last two years a proliferation of literary works (mainly novels, but some short-story collections and anthologies) have been loosely grouped under the rubrics of ‘grunge lit’ and ‘dirty realism’. These media-friendly terms have almost universal negative associations; grunge lit is seen by most as a facile and modish form of writing. But grunge is not so much a literary movement as a market category. It has also been used to fuel the myth, beloved of the Australian media and book publishing industry, of a conflict between generational cultures.

In Murray Waldren’s article ‘Lit. grit invades Ozlit’ (Australian Magazine, 24-25 June 1995), which heralded an explosion of ‘nineties urban grunge literature’, we are encouraged to see grunge as ‘autobiographical social commentary’. This means equating the writing with its author and the author’s world. As Sandra Hall writes in ‘It’s Your Life (and I’ll write about it if I want to)’ (HQ, May-June 1996), ‘Andrew McGahan’s Praise is a nihilistic tale of drugs, booze and sex without illusions, and has proved so irresistible to Australian readers that it has come to exemplify all that is meant by “grunge” fiction. It’s more than autobiographical. It’s confessional.’ In McGahan’s novel, ‘friends and lovers [are] depicted barely disguised’. He is the narrator and his experience ‘gives the novel its stamp of authenticity’.