The novel arises from the profound experiences of the author who is described in the preamble as: - “. . . an environmental scientist, agronomist and a writer. His life has involved agricultural and conservation projects in Papua New Guinea, Southeast Asia and Africa, mostly as a project manager. He was involved, in the 1990s, in the human rights issues arising from the oil extraction industry of the Niger Delta. The experience included his mock execution. This focused his mind on the question that has preoccupied him ever since: How did we reach this rotten state of human affairs? Over the past decade he has concluded that the answer is the catastrophe of Western capitalism, which has degraded the human spirit to the mere consumption of worthless products, while detaching humanity from the natural ecosystem of which it ought to be a part. Nick believes in the endless human potential for compassion and forgiveness, and deplores ideas that propagate the division of humankind. He understands racism not only as a manifestation of ignorance and bad national karma but primarily as a psychological sickness that afflicts the racist.” In his published statement he writes: “Annu is ostensibly set in the South Pacific plantation industry of the 1970s and 80s. Much of my fiction is set in this psychosomatic world, because that is where I spent the youthful years of my professional life. It was the best life because running a plantation came to me instinctively. I loved it. It was the worst life because the plantation system epitomises the oppression of the dispossessed. "My novel The Last Fishermen presents the ‘plantation’ as a refuge for the most wretched of the dispossessed. A fairy tale, but one beset with the misogyny and murder that make it a good yarn! "The Myth of Annu (original title) is even more beset with vile human tendencies. But Annu is more, it is an allegory of our industrialised human condition. It presents the brutality of our age through the experience of the plantation. More importantly, the reason for the novel’s being is the presentation of the possible salvation of all concerned. Salvation as a real possibility, because the human tendency is as capable of being brave and compassionate as it is of being cowardly and vile. This is what my life has taught me. In buckets. The achievement of Annu, the myth, is indeed the realisation of a fairy tale. An important part of Annu comes out of my South Pacific days. The murder of Nalin’s daughter, the stories of migrant workers. Also, a part comes out of The Philippines (Neki’s story) where I wrote much of the book. But I wrote more in Africa, where (for instance) I created Alloy. Those with whom I worked will recognise the African evolution of the myth. "Regardless of geographical precision however, Annu is about the racism of colonialism and the exploitation of the weak by the strong. It is about the ever-present possibility of changing the human karma for the better. Therefore, Annu is a tragedy and a comedy taking its characters to their just desserts. "Lastly, a writer’s unconsciousness is a powerful force. Revising the novel for the final time I note a resemblance between my ‘GM’ (General Manager)and Trump, although I began to create my monster years before Trump appeared. Another good yarn!” Significant threads running through the novel include: wilful moral disintegration and, as an opposite force, moral regeneration; the invention of a myth built upon an hysterical desire for a savour in times of intolerable reality; the psychological pain endured by migrant workers and the social angst and disruption caused by such mass human movements; spiritual freedom that can be (but is not always) achieved through the defiance of sexual mores; the catastrophe of colonial capitalism and industrialisation; and an attack on materialism. But despite its serious intentions, the novel recognizes the essential humour inherent in healthy human relationships, especially where they arise out of mutual attraction. The back cover quotes from the novel: “But, later on the solwara, at this Van Island Palm Oil Development Company, we learn a big thing. We learn that we are rubbish men. If I die then no one knows and no one worries. Our masters throw our bodies into the sea. They will forget Keramugl. And another thing, a big thing: we can no longer go back home. It costs too much money. We are truly in the Kalabus.” Solwara = saltwater = the sea Kalabus = prison