August 29, 2008
Indie Award Shortlist Announced
The Readings Bookshop weblog has reported that the shortlisted works for the First Indie Awards have been announced. This award is presented by Australia's independent boksellers for the best book of the past 12 months. The winner will be announced on October 6th.
The shortlisted works are:
Debut Fiction: Addition by Toni Jordan
Non-Fiction: American Journeys by Don Watson
Fiction: Breath by Tim Winton
Children's Book: Tales From Outer Suburbia by Shaun Tan
Posted by larrikin at 02:11 PM Permalink | Comments (0)
Melbourne Writers' Festival Reports
As the Melbourne Writers' Festival moves though its first week a number of bloggers have been writing up their experiences.
Judith Ridge, of "The ::New:: Misrule" weblog dropped into three schools's session.
Jo Case, on the Readings bookshop weblog went along to see Louise Asher in conversation with Susan Johnson.
And further to the Readings coverage of the MWF are these photos from the first weekend.
Karen Chisholm, of the "Australian Crime Fiction" weblog has a few friends staying with her for the Festival. Whihc has probably made it difficult for her to post about anything. I suspect she'll be at the Ned Kelly Awards tonight so we might see something out of that.
Margo Lanagan has been and gone, appearing on a few panels earlier in the week; one at least that Judith Ridge went to.
Estelle, from "3000 Books" had a busy first Sunday.
"Hackpacker" went along to see David Sedaris, and Angela was interested in Augusten Burroughs.
The "Speakeasy" weblog mentioned the launch of a new edition of The Australian Writers Marketplace at the Festival.
And Mark Lawrence wonders why the MWF doesn't have "official" lit-bloggers covering the events as other Australian festivals have done.
Posted by larrikin at 11:43 AM Permalink | Comments (0)
Helen Garner Watch #5
Reviews of The Spare Room
Susie Boyt in "The Financial Times" : "Delivered in an almost conversational tone, this is an unsettling and skilled work that raises important questions about the process of dying and what caring well for the dying requires. Is the etiquette of death yet to be devised - and ought there to be one? We sometimes behave differently with those facing death - perhaps being economical with the truth orplacating at every turn. Maybe something in us alters or we lower our standards when it comes to caring for the terminally ill. Do we create new rules for ourselves - and is this kindness or cowardice? The Spare Room doesn't shirk from such awful enquiries."
Kate Bateman in "The Irish Times": "The book itself is a little beauty, nice to hold with beautiful end-papers and a silk marker to hold your place...A most appealing feature of this novel is the elegance and taut style of the narrative voice as she gives expression to large and small questions - friendship, death, tolerance, truthfulness, and the work of the day. The authentic, down-under voice sustains the work through thoughtful and dialogue sequences."
Short Notices
"The Resident Judge of Port Phillip" weblog: "I loved the embeddedness of this book within Melbourne suburbia, and her confidential and warm tone- like a good, satisfying talk with an old friend."
"Dovegreyreader" : "Susan Hill suggested I read this one and also told me to look carefully at the very clever ending, which I did and yes, how very clever it is. I won't divulge because then you can watch out for it too, it's more about style than plot but such a clever way for a writer to preserve for posterity a moment of utter guilt, trapped like the insect in the amber. Regardless of what may happen next, nothing will assuage Helen's agony over her decision, one that tests her innermost feelings about the bonds of friendship to the very limits and Helen Garner has captured it with utter precision."
The "Nice Lady Doctor" weblog: "In the few hours I was reading it, I learnt more about the psychological effects of a terminal diagnosis on the patient and on his or her carer, than I have in some years as a doctor. It’s such a human piece of writing, and so full of affection and humour."
Other
Yu'll know by now that The Spare Room did not make the Booker longlist. Jamie Byng, publisher of Canongate who released the book in the UK, was not at all impressed by the omission and had a few things to say about it - about 7th comment down. In particular he took a shot at a thriller that had been included. Needless to say, some reaction ensued. Byng followed this up on another site.
Posted by larrikin at 09:31 AM Permalink | Comments (0)
The Tin Wreath: A Pierian Publican
[This piece continues our reprints from The Bulletin from 1908. This was written in response to the magazine's call for nominations for the position of Australian poet laureate.]
I am not sure whether you mean by "poet laureate" the most popular poet, the writer of the best patriotic poetry, or the best poet. (We mean the best poet.) If popularity is the prime qualification, the matter could be settled at once by a reference to publishers' statistics, and A.B. Paterson would be found easily first. If, however, you are inquiring what poet fills a similar position in Australia to that of the Poet Laureate in England, one remembers that Pye, Wharton, Alfred Austin, and others, have helped to wither the laurel that was green on the brows of Dryden, Wordsworth, and Tennyson, and assumes that the title of Poet Laureate does not really connote much more than Purveyor of Odes to the Royal Family -- By Special Appointment. The analogous position in Australia is, I think, already filled by Essex Evans, who writes patriotic exhortations quite as well as Alfred Austin, and whose other work is graced, here and there, by a touch of poetry. But if you really want to know who is the best poet in australia, that's not so easy to answer. There is no precedent for a woman holding the laureate-ship in England, but that would not matter in Australia. There are about eight or nine women to be reckoned with; but I hardly think there are in the first flight. Their quality might be represented by cordials -- Ada Cambridge, ginger-beer with bitters; Louise Mack, cider; but Jessie Mackay (I take it for granted that Maorilanders are included in the survey) sometimes rises to the heights of sparkling burgundy. Bayldon, Church, Essex Evans, Loughran, O'Hara, and Ross I class together as capable versifiers, with more or less frequent poetic gleams -- good stout with a dash. Jephcott, O'Dowd, and Hugh McCrae are stronger, more imaginative, but not always artistic -- whisky is about their measure. A.H. Adams, Brereton, Hebblethwaite and A.T. Strong are better artists, yet want some high energising purpose to make them produce poetry that is really worth while -- wine, with some bouquet but little body. If Roderic Quinn had written nothing more than The Hidden Tide, and C. Brennan had published something more than XXI Poems - Towards the Source, it might be the right thing to divide the wreath between them, for one had the rare champagne quality and the other resembles green chartreuse. These are all splendid drinks on occasion; but there is no doubt that as a steady tipple there is nothing like Beer. For this we go to our ballad writers -- except two, E.J. Brady and Will Lawson, whose work has the tang of rum. Paterson is often finer than beer, Ogilvie has sometimes a flavor of old vatted mountain mist; but taking this class as a whole, their work has the unvarying appeal, and gives the glow and nourishment, and gets one forrarder to the extent of Beer. It seems to me that our best and most representative poet is to be found amongst these, and I give my vote for one who has not much of "the faculty" but a good deal of "the vision," an unconscious artist whose work, with all its faults, is instinct with life and purpose -- Henry Lawson.
First published in The Bulletin, 23 April 1908
Notes:
Wikipedia pages are accessible for:
A.H. Adams
Arthur Bayldon
E.J. Brady
Christopher Brennan
Ada Cambridge
Hubert Church
George Essex Evans
Henry Lawson
Hugh McCrae
Louise Mack
Bernard O'Dowd
Will Ogilvie
A.B. Paterson
See the previous postings in this sequence:
Posted by larrikin at 08:38 AM Permalink | Comments (0)
August 28, 2008
Review: The Holy Well by Colin Macpherson
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Colin Macpherson THE HOLY WELL Mopoke Publishing, 400 pp. Source: review copy Review by Bernadette Gooden |
Colin Macpherson has obviously researched The Bronze Age in Scotland very thoroughly. Just as well really, because the historical detail about this fascinating era is the only vaguely interesting theme in this otherwise boring and turgid novel. It's rather like wading through a vat of porridge, or a haggis... or two... or twenty.
Two men, Bren and James, born thousands of years apart, share a strange, mystical destiny connected by a "holy" well with magical healing powers and transdimensional qualities (yawn). Bren, at least, has an exciting life as a Bronze Age leader and warrior. James is just an offensive twerp.
While we do perhaps need to simplify our lives and have a greater regard for our environment in the 21st century, we cannot go back to the more primitive past. In a time when people were lucky to live until 40 it was very important that they reproduced as quickly as possible. In our modern world it is illegal for an adult to have sex with a child and the position of a teacher is a position of trust. In the novel, the justification for a sexual relationship between Diane, a 16-year-old girl, and James, her teacher, is some sort of meant to be, spiritual claptrap. The author's suggestion seems to be that we should dispense with our modern concepts of morality and go back to the way things were before all this new fangled civilisation got in the way.
The characters in this novel are all two-dimensional. I felt nothing for James. Even his sexual exploits are very lacklustre and connect-the-dots. At least Bren's life is presented in a more interesting and believable way. I felt more connected with the people in his part of the story.
The female characters only come in two stereotypes: juicy, compliant child/ woman under 18, and designing manipulative nympho hag (any female over 18). As a female reader I found this extremely offensive.
The descriptions of the battle scenes are handled well. I do, however, find it very strange that more people didn't know about the well and its healing properties. Every one in Bren’s time knew about it, and people in the intervening centuries. Considering what a circus Lourdes is, why weren’t thousands of people flocking there by the 1980s?
All things considered I found this book a poor read and in desperate need of more plot and character development.
Posted by larrikin at 09:23 PM Permalink | Comments (0)
Spare Parts
Justine Larbalestier asks "Why should a reader keep reading the work of someone who pisses them off?" That is, if you don't like an author's "politics/personality/hygiene/habits" would you stop reading them?
Some of Melbourne's independent booksellers are interviewed about their book preferences and what tjeir customers get up to in their shops: "I caught a guy recently ridiculously trying to shove about four cookbooks down his pants. I don't know how he thought he was going to walk out. He'd been quite friendly and chatty and told us where he worked and was enthusing about the cookbooks. And then suddenly decided he just had to have them, but couldn't afford them."
Back in 2005 I linked to a website devoted to A. Bertram Chandler, an English-born Australian sf writer. Now Steve Davidson has created another such website about the author, but this time concentrating on his Rimworlds series of stories.
John Pilger is elected to the Hall of Fame on the wonderful weblog "If Charlie Parker Was a Gunslinger, There'd Be a Whole Lot of Dead Copycats".
David Malouf has been awarded the Muriel Spark International Fellowship: "In a special Edinburgh International Book Festival autumn event, Malouf, will be at the Traverse Theatre on 23 September." The previous recipient was Margaret Atwood.
Posted by larrikin at 08:56 AM Permalink | Comments (0)
August 27, 2008
Review: The Sinkings by Amanda Curtin
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Amanda Curtin THE SINKINGS University of Western Australia Press, 375 pp. Source: review copy Review by Michael Freedman |
The Sinkings is a novel that pulls the reader in two different directions. Amanda Curtin's debut novel captures the story of Little Jock, a convict shipped from the familiar surroundings of home to a strange land, only to meet a violent end at the hands of a fellow convict in 1882. Little Jock's story is one of confusion, secrecy, betrayal, and violence. His life is never easy, and is characterised by brutality at every turn.
The other protagonist is Willa Sampson, and Willa's story is set in present day Australia. Willa's tale is also a sad one, having tragically lost her daughter Imogen, and been deserted by her husband. Overcome with grief, Willa discovers and gratefully embarks on a new project -- to research and uncover Little Jock's life, and the reasons for his death. This is easier said than done, and the novel moves back and forth through time continually, placing the reader in the shoes of the two main characters. This is done seamlessly, and is never confusing.
Ms Curtin's prose is engaging, and once the reader overcomes the disconcerting feeling of reading a novel that has little dialogue, it is easy to identify and sympathise with the characters and their problems. The Sinkings is, as much as anything else, a story about obsession and Willa's attempts to immerse herself into the life of somebody else, anybody else, to escape the tragic emptiness of her own. Her life and that of Little Jock are entwined in quite a remarkable way -- Willa's daughter and the convict were both born "intersexed", and it is this realisation that gives birth to Willa's overwhelming desire to unravel the complexities of Little Jock's life, and death. Ms Curtin handles the rare condition with sensitivity, even if her characters sometimes don't.
Willa goes to extraordinary lengths (and expense) to uncover Little Jock's secrets, and does so often under the pretence that Little Jock is a family member. There is some irony in this, given her daughter's condition. Secrecy and pretence must play a large, perhaps overwhelming part in the lives of the intersexed, and societal ignorance of the condition is probably not so much different now than it was 125 years ago.
When The Sinkings gets it right, the reader is transported to a time and place where the characters seem real and convincing, facing overwhelming hardships yet always endeavouring with typically human resilience to make it to the other side, painful though the journey might be. The other direction is which the reader may feel themselves being pulled, however, is less positive.
There are times in the novel when it almost feels like piece of non-fiction, and it always treads a very fine line. The Sinkings is quite a long novel, and the impression after having finished reading the story is that it might have benefited from further editing. Research methods employed by Willa, and the drudgery of prison life experienced by Little Jock, are sometimes detailed too extensively, which can detract from the story. In the world of the novel, when there is little doubt where the story is going (and here the murder occurs on the first page), the interest for the reader is all about getting there. Unfortunately, unless the reader has a particular interest in genealogical research or convict life in 19th Century Australia, the lasting impression might be that the author has somewhat belaboured the point. This would be a shame, because behind The Sinkings is fundamentally an interesting story.
Posted by larrikin at 01:08 PM Permalink | Comments (0)
Andy Griffiths Interview
Jo Case interviews Andy Griffiths on the Readings bookshop weblog. Griffiths is the author of those modern classics, The Day My Bum Went Psycho, and The Big Fat Cow That Went Kapow!.
My son pointed that out to me recently, that in your books, bad behaviour never turns out well. I wonder if the kids get the morality of the tale more than the grown-ups.He must be very perceptive. Because most radio hosts, I've been doing interviews with over the past few weeks start with "there's no educational value and no morality in these books, they're just wild".
Very early on I realised that if Andy's playing all these pranks on people and succeeding, he'd actually be a very unlikable character. So, I've said he can play any joke no matter how horrible, as long he's the one who ultimately suffers. And I think we know, on a subconscious level, that that's fair game, that we can enjoy that. Because nobody's getting hurt, except the person who deserves it. Whereas if you push a little old lady over and make her slip on a banana skin, it's funny to a degree, but it's Funniest Home Videos. It's funny until the bit where you cut the tape and show them in pain. I wrote a story about that actually. "Unfunniest Home Videos" [in the latest Just Shocking]. I thought Andy would be the kind of kid who would film his friend Danny having an accident to win the money. And then the formula is, how is this going to backfire so he's the one who ends up getting hurt?
Posted by larrikin at 08:37 AM Permalink | Comments (0)
August 26, 2008
Combined Reviews: The Lost Dog by Michelle de Kretser
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Reviews of The Lost Dog by Michelle de Kretser Allen & Unwin 2007 |
[This novel has been longlisted for the 2008 Man Booker Prize, shortlisted for the Victorian Premier's Literary Awards. It won the Australian Literature Society's Gold Medal, and the NSW Premier's Literary Award for Fiction, as well as the Book of the Year Award.]
Ursula Le Guin in "The Telegraph": "There is no feminine for 'avuncular', but there ought to be. I want, in auntly fashion, to praise Michelle de Kretser for being good and beautiful, while scolding her for being afraid to show her goodness and beauty. What do you want to hide behind all that face-paint for, child? Do you think you have to be as skinny as a pencil and wear a ring in your navel just because other people do? The fashionable disfigurements and artificialities I complain of are, of course, literary, and they affect not her, but her novel, The Lost Dog...Kretser's native style is clear, vigorous, sensitive to mood and cadence, and strongly narrative - an excellent tool for a novelist with a story to tell."
Alison McCulloch in "The New York Times": "This book's insights are at times so thickly layered as to leave character, story and reader gasping for light and air. Which isn't to say they're necessarily bad insights. More often than not, de Kretser nails some situation or foible in 20 words or less. Consider her observation on 9/11: 'Everything changes when Americans fall from the sky.'...As de Kretser showed with her second novel, The Hamilton Case, her forte is illuminating the lives of such 'leftovers of empire', and she provides more of those delights here. But this novel also continues a steady move away from the concrete world of places and events toward the human interior."
A.S. Byatt in "The Financial Times": "This is the best novel I have read for a long time. The writing is elegant and subtle, and Michelle de Kretser knows how to construct a gripping story...This writing is new and constantly surprising, without being showy or quirky. It is exact, like Penelope Fitzgerald; it is strange, like Patrick White."
Dara Horn in "The Washington Post": "While the plot is subtle, the book's musings on modernity are anything but. Nearly every page offers observations on how contemporary Western life attempts to efface the past: faddish dress, gentrified neighborhoods, the disposability of old technology."
Mary Philip in "The Courier-Mail": "In many ways this book is wonderfully mysterious. The whole concept of modernity juxtaposed with animality is a puzzle that kept this reader on edge for the entire reading. The Lost Dog is an intelligent and insightful book that will guarantee de Kretser a loyal following."
Jane Shilling in "The New Statesman": "Ranging between the present and events of the past, whose convergence has led her protagonist to his crisis, de Kretser pursues ideas of exile, loss, disappointment, mortality; the nature of happiness and also of evil; the relation between humanity and beastliness; the significance of objects, both present and remembered; the means by which we conjure and protect identity; the shared characteristics of words and shit; ideas of duty, responsibility and attachment -- and much more."
Stephen Abell in "The Telegraph": "The Lost Dog, we are told at its conclusion, 'draws directly and obliquely on works by Henry James'. This is a risky ploy, with two obvious pitfalls: the hubris involved in setting your prose in comparison with that of the Master; and the fact that, in the reams of James's thoughtful literary criticism, there are likely to be all sorts of strictures that can be used against you."
Carmen Callil in "The Observer": "This is my favourite kind of novel. It is full of incident and character, tells a gripping story, has many touches of brilliance and can make you laugh and wonder. But it is also mightily flawed...These lapses aside, the language is full of light, colour and precise observation and, better still, the author can handle ethical and political concerns with a light touch."
Short Notices
The "Tuesday in Silhouette" weblog: "It's one of those books that hums quietly along; even though extraodinary things may happen, it really does feel like an everyday kind of travel. It just pulls you along as the characters journey through life. That's what I loved about it. The writing. The writing was quite lovely."
Despite some reservations, Dan Dervin concludes that the novel "delivers on its intriguing premises".
Estelle at "3000 books" thinks this books has helped her re-evaluate her view of Australian literature: "Considering the lyricism with which De Kretser conveyed this multi-generational tale, it was with no regret that I renounced my antipathy for Australian fiction. Even a sometimes awkward approach to dialogue enhanced her considered inquiry into personhood, revealing conversation for its brutal, dissembling self."
dovegreyreader: "Layers of significance build and build and I was constantly in awe of Michelle de Kretser's style and skill, the very right words in exactly the right order. Even that point when you might expect a book to take a bit of a yawn as it rests and gathers itself to regroup for that push to the final page, well Michelle de Kretser just pulls out even more stops and stuns all over again, the book dazzled and sparkled for me from start to finish."
Interviews
Robert Dessaix on ABC Radio National's "The Book Show" from November 2007.
Fiona Gruber interview in "The Sydney Morning Herald" from November 2007: "It is, in part, a commentary on the sanitised world in which we live, where the old, the sick and the imperfect are made to feel useless, invisible. 'We have an obsession with bodies in the West but there is a denial of bodily-ness,' de Kretser argues, saying the obsession with fitness and control of appetites is unsensual. Our animality is something we have become disgusted by, she says. Perfect teeth, straight strong limbs and glowing skin form the template that separates the Western physical orthodoxy from a more diverse cast in less affluent countries."
Rosemary Neill interview in "The Australian" from March 2008: "De Kretser says the praise and prizes her novels have attracted 'increase un-confidence, if that is the word'. When her second novel was released, she was worried it wouldn't live up to the success of the first. Now she is uneasy that The Lost Dog -- to be published in Australia, the US, Britain and Italy -- won't match the achievements of The Hamilton Case. 'The only thing I know at the end of a novel is how to write that novel; that knowledge doesn't transfer across to the next one,' she says soberly."
In conversation with Gail Jones at the 2008 Sydney Writers' Festival in May 2008.
Other
Ampersand Duck is a blogger living in Canberra who just happened to be the designer for the Australian edition of the novel. (Check out the bookcover at the top of this post, and then have a look at the pedestrian version that appears on the English edition as reproduced with Carmen Callil's review in "The Observer".) Fascinating stuff.
Posted by larrikin at 09:26 AM Permalink | Comments (4)
Sofie Laguna Profile
Sofie Laguna, best known for the children's books Too Loud Lily and Bird and Sugar Boy, has just published her first novel for adults, One Foot Wrong. As that book hits the bookshops she is interviewed by Sherril Nixon for "The Sydney Morning Herald".
"What is satisfying is the fact that adult fiction gets a lot more attention in the media and, whether we're conscious of it or not, children's fiction gets dismissed as less important and less sophisticated and it requires less talent," Laguna says. "I am a person who just doesn't see the division so clearly."Her latest offering has certainly received instant accolades - local reviews have described it as masterful, absorbing and authentic, and it has sold into overseas markets including the US, Italy, Russia, Germany and Spain.
The film rights were also sold before Laguna had put the finishing touches on One Foot Wrong and a team of producers connected with the horror movies Saw and Wolf Creek are working to bring it to the pre-production stage next year. Laguna wrote the screenplay earlier this year while simultaneously completing her book, a process that allowed her to sharpen the novel and ratchet up the tension.
She is thrilled at comparisons with Mark Haddon's The Curious Incident Of The Dog In The Night-Time and Patrick McCabe's The Butcher Boy, and even wonders if there's a little of Stephen King's Carrie or Jeanette Winterson's Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit unconsciously influencing her child narrator.
Posted by larrikin at 08:47 AM Permalink | Comments (0)
Australian Bookcovers #126 - Flying Hero Class by Tom Keneally
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Flying Hero Class by Tom Keneally, 1991
(Hodder & Stoughton 1991 edition)
Posted by larrikin at 08:34 AM Permalink | Comments (0)
August 25, 2008
Jack Heath Profile
As his third young adult novel Money Run is published, Jack Heath is interviewed for "The Courier-Mail" by Nathan Sauer.
With Heath's ability to conquer the best-selling list of Australian authors, and to write three books in only a few years, it is easy to forget this novelist's youth.But when he talks about being intimidated by a room full of teenage girls, you are reminded just what a young talent he really is.
Heath says that, at his age, researching his books is one part of the writing process he really enjoys.
"I get to do all sorts of training, which is always fun," he says.
"I recently did firearm training which is something most people don't get to do. But that's part of my job, so I'm very lucky."
While he has been on the Australian literary scene for years, Heath is quick to deny that he's a veteran. He says that all you need to become a novelist is pen, paper and ideas.
Posted by larrikin at 08:14 PM Permalink | Comments (0)
2008 Ubud Writers' Festival
The Ubud Writers' Festival, which "Harper's Bazaar" is quoted as rating "among the top 6 literary Festivals in the world" is on again. The 2008 version is to be held from 14-19 October this year in Ubud, Bali. The guests attending come from all over, with an emphasis on South East Asian writers, including Australia. Day passes run to $100, and a full festival pass costs $300.
The theme of this year's Festival is Tri Hita Karana - the Balinese concept of balancing Man, Nature, and God.
Posted by larrikin at 02:12 PM Permalink | Comments (0)
Tom Keneally Watch #5
Short Notices
The reading group based around the Blue Mountains City Library weren't overly impressed with The Widow and Her Hero, finding it "is not a great book to read. Thin characterization and an obsession with biography not story."
Philip Squires is disappointed with Towards Asmara: "As a process, the experience was strewn with beauty, vivid images and arresting phrases. The author, for instance, described desert vegetation ready to burst into life at the first 'rumour' of moisture. The writing style has a quirky inventiveness that regularly surprises. Where Towards Asmara eventually breaks down, however, is its inability to take the reader past the credibility hurdle that spans observer and participant."
Other
Timberlake Wertenbaker's play, "Our Country's Good", based on Keneally's novel The Playmaker, was recently revived in Sydney's Darlinghurst Theatre. Mark Hopkins reviewed the production for "The Sydney Morning Herald".
Lisa Hannett has come across a new book, Ancestral Narratives by Chad Habel, which "explores how ancestral connections are narrated in both history and fiction written by Irish-Australian authors Thomas Keneally and Christopher Koch. It argues that ancestry allows people to imaginatively inhabit the historical period their ancestor lived in, but more importantly, to identify with their ancestor(s). Keneally focuses on the development of national identity through ancestry, while Koch is more concerned with the inheritance of particular constructions of masculinity."
And don't forget that Keneally's novel The Widow and Her Hero, has been shortlisted for the Prime Minister's Literary Award in the fiction category.
Five Years Ago
Keneally was involved in demonstrations against the then Australian government's refugee policies.
Office of Innocence was named a notable book of 2003 by "The New York Times".
Keneally wrote that writing about other cultures is a risky business, especially if you attempt it from their perspective.
Posted by larrikin at 10:50 AM Permalink | Comments (0)
The Age Book of the Year Awards
"The Age" Book of the Year Awards were announced on Friday night as part of the Melbourne Writers' Festival.
The Fiction prize was taken out by Breath by Tim Winton, the Non-Fiction award by American Journeys by Don Watson, and the Poetry winner was Not Finding Wittgenstein by J.S. Harry.
In addition the Book of the Year - the best of the best - was awarded to American Journeys by Don Watson.
Posted by larrikin at 09:07 AM Permalink | Comments (0)
August 23, 2008
Poem: Meditations on a Pawn Ticket by The Ghost (Henry Lawson)
Let carrion conspire to damn my name,
The rocky roadway to enduring fame
I have explored, and I have paid the cost,
For one by one my chattels I have tossed
Unto the bandits who in ambush lurk,
And thrive so very well who seldom work.
Assistant porters agitate my hand,
And find me cushioned seat, nor make demand
Of cash, for in the pocket of my vest
I hold the passport to the regions blest.
For this, my badge of pride, I sniff disdain
On lazy men who failed to catch the train,
Who, groping for some priceless collar-stud,
Their passage lost, but found a deal of mud.
With much placidity I gaze afar
On one who, in his snorting motor-car,
Shutters the sunshine from his goggled face,
And strives to emulate my aërial pace.
For well I know how he is handicapped,
And drugged and stiffened and in luxury lapped.
And most profoundly do I guess his ire
When large tin-tacks rise up to burst his tyre;
Or when some guardian of celestial order
Disputes his right to scorch across the border.
And so, because I sit on Fortune's knee,
I call the guard; he with humility
Takes of my orders due delivery
That I (I mention pain and penalty
And special care for men like Carnegie)
Must not at any cost disturbed be.
I lodge complaint, for that there is a draught
Somewhere. I smite the man and vow him daft,
And bid him draw the blind, cover my shanks;
All this he does, and so, to earn his thanks,
I give him twopence; he forgets his scars,
And sings my praises to the blushing stars.
And now, to ponder o'er my present state,
I give me up to calmly cogitate.
My old friends, Crabbe and Dryden, I have pawned --
The gods know best, and often I have yawned
Their leaves among, and sought for louder lays
That voiced the tumult of existing days.
What of it? Is it not made manifest
That he who seeks the Muses with full zest
Shall be the coal of his own altar fire,
Or come to buying furniture on hire?
Why quarrel with the gods? Are they not good
Who hand us bills-of-fare for special food?
If all is "off," here is no need to question
Or search the plate for germs of indigestion.
You strutting merchant, who, with bellied girth,
Shadows the children's portion of the earth
In long obeisance to his goddess, Pelf,
First pawned his principles, and then himself;
And that his body pledge was little worth,
Aspires to pawn the country of his birth.
Victor, a speck of sunshine, now does flit,
And "Hamer," of the meditative wit --
And, maybe, "Kodak" one day joins the Throng
Where bailiffs never interrupt the song.
I, too, shall live on stews empyrean,
And so I scorch to heights Olympian,
Holding within the hollow of my hand
The precious passport to the Glory Land.
First published in The Bulletin, 21 May 1908
"Victor" is Victor Daley (1858-1905).
"Hamer" is Harold Mercer (1882-1952).
"Kodak" is Ernest O'Ferrall (1881-1925).
Posted by larrikin at 08:50 AM Permalink | Comments (0)
August 22, 2008
2008 Melbourne Writers' Festival
The 2008 Melbourne Writers' Festival starts today with Germaine Greer giving the opening keynote address in the Melbourne Town Hall. It's sold out, but you can check out the rest of the program.
Posted by larrikin at 11:39 AM Permalink | Comments (0)
A Classic Year 17.0: Lucinda Brayford by Martin Boyd
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Lucinda Brayford Martin Boyd 1946 |
I have to admit from the outset I'm struggling with this book. It didn't help that at the time I was due to start it - a month or so back - I was deep in the throes of preparing, and then travelling, to the US and back. I kept finding excuses to read something else, the D.M. Cornish novel was just so damn good, and I was more than a bit knackered by the whole travel experience. But I did start the book a while back, and if starting was hard enough, then continuing to plough my way through its 546 pages is going to be a real trial.
Take the first part of the novel as an example: in the first chapter we are introduced to William Vane in Clare College, Cambridge, in the middle of the nineteenth century. He and some mates are getting a skinful in his rooms when someone decides it would be a great idea to drag Audrey Chapman, an undergraduate aiming to take Holy Orders, out of his rooms below Vane's and to toss him into the river. The upshot of all this is Chapman's near-death from pneumonia, Vane having to pay for his medical expenses which nearly bankrupts him, Vane being caught cheating at cards in an attempt to obtain some money to pay his bills, and Vane being sent down. His father doesn't want to know about him so he is packed off to Australia to make his fortune. Chapman's illness doesn't improve so he is also sent out to Victoria. Both men marry and have children. One son and one daughter from each family meet up and finally marry. Immediately after the marriage Vane decides to return to England, but falls overboard on the voyage and is lost at sea.
Some thirty years has elapsed from first scene to last, and we have only moved on six (6!!) pages. The first character we meet on page one is now dead and this isn't a murder mystery. And we're still a generation away from the eponymous character, Lucinda, being born.
Needless to say, the prose is rather declamatory. Trying to squeeze all that into such a short space leaves little room for any style. It's purely scene-setting for later in the novel, and it's real hard going.
A lot of writing courses will tell you that knowing when to start a novel will get you a fair way towards engaging the reader in a story they want to read. Boyd, and this novel, would have been better served in scrapping the first chapter entirely. At least Lucinda is born at the end of the second chapter. Which is its saving grace.
Notes:
Martin Boyd Wikipedia page.
The next four works:
18. A Fortunate Life by A.B. Facey (1981)
19. Picnic at Hanging Rock by Joan Lindsay (1967)
20. "Five Bells" by Kenneth Slessor (1939)
21. Capricornia by Xavier Herbert (1938)
Posted by larrikin at 09:44 AM Permalink | Comments (1)
The Tin Wreath
So yer got er competishun going for pote loorets? Well, Im goin to ave a vote anyhow, though I dont like potry; its pretty an all that sort, but it wastes all its blanky time tryin to be pretty stead of sayin somethin. Its like a bloke wot as a few acres er good land goin usen most of it for a pretty flower gardin stead of plantin crops or cabbages right up to is bloomin front door, as e oughter. Some blokes, like Grant Hervey, seems to think as how yer cant even ask Australia to shut its back-gate an clean up its gun ready for the Japs without making yer bloomin request rhime pretty. Fancy torkin to a great country erbout its ennemys in the same silly kinder sing-song way as yer tell the kids erbout the kow jumpin over the moon or Marys little lamb follerin er erbout! Now, I arst yer strate, owd it be if I was to wake me boy in the mornin like this: "Rise up, Bill! go milk the kows, and get to the creamery by nine somehows"? Hed think Id gone fair off me bloomin onion. An very likely e wouldnt know it was potry at all, cause e wouldnt know it should be written in two lines. Anyhow, if yer must give yer tin halo to someone, youd better give it to Hugh McCrae, because he dont write often, and when he does its generally somethin short. I like "Kodak" pretty well too, because I dont think he really berleeves e is a pote; I think es pullin the other pote blokes legs, and chuckin off at them all the time. Hes good too, because he owns up to the way potes ave to dodge the bailiffs, and ow they never pay their board. Id do me best to make all the other potes qualify for that other kinder wreath -- the white un, like a life-belt, wot they gives yer to wear goin over the Jordan. Yours trooly,
NITTY ARÆMO
First published in The Bulletin, 23 April 1908
You can read poems by Grant Hervey here, here, here, and here.
You can read poems by "Kodak" here, here, and here.
I haven't transcribed any poems by Hugh McCrae as yet.
See the previous postings in this sequence:
Posted by larrikin at 08:30 AM Permalink | Comments (0)
August 21, 2008
Review: Things Without a Name by Joanne Fedler
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Joanne Fedler THINGS WITHOUT A NAME Allen & Unwin, 400 pp. Source: review copy Review by Tineke Hazel |
This seems a curious title for a book, until you hear Nonna speaking to her little granddaughter Faith. "Things without a name don't exist" she says, "they are lost".
Faith Roberts (no relation to Julia Roberts she hastens to add) is a legal counselor with an organization called SISTAA which stands for "Sisters In Struggle Together To Alleviate Abuse". Faith says this is a hell of a mouthful for someone with a broken jaw or split lip.
Faith listens each day to the most horrendous stories of domestic violence. She organizes restraint orders and gives legal advice which mostly isn't taken on board by the abused women. The novel starts with Faith listening to Priscilla, a Somali woman whose sister made the mistake of going home to collect her things after she had been told not to go back without police in attendance. She is stabbed to death with a pair of scissors. Faith feels she will never look at scissors in the same way again.
Faith's life is full of broken women who want to cling to her because Faith listens and observes more than she speaks. Everyone loves to tell their story to someone who will listen and Faith is a good listener.
The domestic violence she has to listen to, and give advice about each day, slowly threatens to swamp Faith's own life. She works on regardless, observing and also mulling over situations she remembers in her own life, as a child, as an adolescent and now as an adult: 34 years of age and still single.
Incidents in her childhood suddenly become clearer to her now she looks back. The fact that her mother was always busy organizing meetings at home for grieving people after Faith's baby brother drowns in the bath. Her mother writes books to advise people how to cope with their grief, books with titles like Mourning After. Faith now realizes her mother wrote them for herself, to escape the guilt she felt about her baby drowning in the bath while she went out to smoke a cigarette.
Fortunately Nonna is a down-to-earth woman, full of wisdom which helps to carry Faith through everyone else's disasters with a modicum of steadiness, though she does seem to rely rather heavily on her asthma pump.
Carol, her friend from work, is totally focused on sex and thinks that a good fuck is all that she and Faith need to bring them happiness and relief from all the terrifying abuse cases they have to deal with. But, good men are hard to find it seems and when Carol phones Faith in a suicidal mood, Faith confesses to some indisgressions with a man Carol remembers as short and fat, which manages to switch Carol from suicidal to hilarity. Nonna thinks Carol is not a good friend for Faith.
One evening after a few drinks with Carol at the pub, Faith hits and kills a cat with her car. She rushes the cat to a vet's clinic where the cat is declared dead by the vet who is on duty. Faith dissolves into tears no longer able to cope with all the stress in her life and now a dead cat as well. She wants to give it a decent burial rather than have it incinerated by the clinic. The vet promises to bury it for her at his sister's place in the hills.
The next day Faith manages to find out the vet's name and rings the clinic to leave a message for Caleb, the vet who attended the cat. He responds and some time later takes her to show the little grave on his sister's property. While they are driving, in the safety of the car, Faith finds herself explaining about the work she is in. Dealing with battered and hurt women, while Caleb deals with battered and hurt animals. Unlike Caleb, Faith has started to hate her job. Faith leaves her job with SISTAA and takes on walking dogs for other people. She has found a job she likes and a man she can love and be loved by in return.
"Amore", sighs Nonna.
Things Without a Name was interesting from the start, but it became irritating when the timeline became confusing. We read about Faith as an adult, then suddenly we are in her childhood or her adolescence and until we become really aware of what the author is doing it can be somewhat disconcerting. The characters are numerous, and again, until we can sort them out, it makes for irritating reading. However, once we do get them straight, the book becomes intriguing. Although superficially a love story, it deals with that shadow-side of domestic bliss, domestic violence. It also draws attention to the sterilization of mentally retarded people, workplace ethics and how to cope when this isn't backing up a valid complaint, rape and the reasons why women won't very often report it, self harm, stress in the workplace, and the attitude of young women to men these days.
The author uses many quirky observations on people and their attitudes which are a delight to read. For example, Barbara, the receptionist is described as "a radiant human frangipani", and poverty is depicted "hanging around like a teenager with nothing better to do".
There is a lot to recommend this novel, and I'll be looking forward to Joanne Fedler's next book.
Posted by larrikin at 02:52 PM Permalink | Comments (0)
Sean Williams Interview
Gary Reynolds interviews Adelaide author Sean Williams on the "Concept Sci-fi" website.
How do you approach the art of writing a novel? What techniques do you use in novel design/planning and editing/ revising?The birth of a novel is marked with fireworks, but that's not the real miracle. Ideas are cheap, just like conceptions: it's what happens next that really matters. Every now and again an idea comes along that's so dense with possibility it has its own gravity. Other, lesser ideas are drawn to it, one by one, and pretty soon the agglomeration hits critical, unstoppable mass. Once the boulder starts rolling down the hill (to careen wildly to another metaphor) I know it's time to start taking some serious notes. Not to start writing the actual story, because I don't really know what the story is yet; I just think I do, like those mornings you wake up sure you have an entire dream in your head, but the moment you try to put it into words, it evaporates forever. Putting pen to paper at this point almost certainly guarantees an unhappy result, as the untamed thing blunders its way downhill, through power lines and unsuspecting villages, leaving a trail of devastation and dead-ends in its wake. I need to understand it better before even considering taking a ride on its back. I need, first, to be sure I can direct it where I want to go.
Posted by larrikin at 01:28 PM Permalink | Comments (0)
UNESCO City of Literature
UNESCO has named Melbourne as its second City of Literature, after Edinburgh received the first such award in 2004.
Beyond the obvious attention this will bring, as well as a new Centre for Books and Ideas that the State Government will build in the city, I'm not sure what this announcement will mean on the ground. However, as I'm involved with the organisation of a major literary event in a couple of years time, I guess I'll find out soon enough.
Posted by larrikin at 09:15 AM Permalink | Comments (2)
August 20, 2008
Murray Bail Interview
Was it just me or did Murray Bail's new novel, The Pages, not receive the attention it was probably due? Maybe the timing of the release was poor, given this seems to be award season: Man Booker, Victorian Premier's, Prime Minister's, Queensland Premier's, Age Book of the Year.
Anyway, the "Entertainment" weblog, from "The Sydney Morning Herald", interviews the author about the new book.
"It's an awful era in a sense because it's the age of narcissism. It's probably worse than global warming," says Murray Bail, leaning over his macchiato with theatrical gloom. "It must have something to do with the flood through every part of society of popular culture, of film, photography, television and performance. All this 'look at me' stuff. People don't read as much, they can't write; you get film stars giving their views on everything. It's quite serious but nothing can be done about it. As soon as you complain you look like an antique."
...
Ten years sounds a long time between books but Bail has not been idle. "This seems to be a ghastly pattern: I started another novel and spent 18 months, maybe two years on it, then I put it aside. It's not to say I won't go back to it. It was nothing but a man and woman talking and I thought, aside from the difficulty, I was sick of men and women talking anyway but there had to be more underneath. The same thing happened with Eucalyptus. I spent a couple of years mucking around with a book that I wasn't comfortable with. I chucked that one out."
The aborted film adaptation of Eucalyptus - which was to feature Russell Crowe and Nicole Kidman - is also mentioned. And that reminds me that I have read reports that Kidman is interested in this new novel. Well, she is reported to have met the author a few times. Which might be as much about the previous as The Pages.
And just before you start thinking I trawl the "Actress Archives" on a regular basis looking for snippets like this, it was the Murray Bail reference that brought it to my attention.
Posted by larrikin at 09:01 AM Permalink | Comments (2)
Australian Literature on the WWW
In October and December 2006 I wrote a couple of pieces about the lamentable state of Australian literature entries on Wikipedia. In particular I focussed on the Miles Franklin Award page, noting that, firstly, a number of authors who had won the award did not have Wikipedia pages devoted to them, and, secondly, the award-winning novels were even more poorly represented.
I'm happy to say that this situation has now been rectified, and all winning authors and novels now have entries on Wikipedia. Not all of them are as extensive as I'd like but the framework is there. I should point out, however, that the Wikipedia Miles Franklin Award page does list all the shortlisted works from 1987, and all the longlisted works from 2005, and not all of these books and their authors have been fixed up as yet.
Any help you can provide, by way of additional information, will be greatly appreciated. It's really not that hard once you get into it.
Posted by larrikin at 08:43 AM Permalink | Comments (2)
August 19, 2008
Explanatory Notes on SF Conventions #1
A couple of days back I made a throwaway comment on this weblog about the need to describe the differences between SF conventions and the normal literary festivals most people are familiar with. So take this as the first couple of steps towards that goal.
Science fiction is usually abbreviated as "sf" or "SF" (pronounced "ess-eff") by afficiandos, and as "sci-fi" (pronounced "sky-fy") by others. This last term is generally considered to be derogatory in nature, and is sometimes pronounced "skiffy" to increase the emphasis. I'm not sure where the term "sci-fi" came from, but seem to recall reading somewhere that it originated in the mainstream media in the 1950s to complement the term "hi-fi". A marketing abbrevation in other words. The general rule here is don't use it.
I've linked to the Wikipedia article on sf above, not so much because I believe each word of it but just to give you an indication of what sort of work fits under the genre's label. Any attempt at a clear and inclusive defintion of sf has always failed; there is always someone who will come up with a work that falls just outside the definition but which most people would consider as sf. Basically anything fantastical, futuristic, off-world or historically divergent is covered. Most people who consider themselves "non-readers" of the genre would be amazed at some of the books that are considered part of the canon: Frankenstein by Shelley, 1984 by Orwell, Brave New World by Huxley, Fahrenheit 451 by Bradbury, Jurassic Park by Crichton, The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood, The Road by Cormac McCarthy, most of Jules Verne and H.G. Wells, and even Illywhacker by Peter Carey, which was nominated for a World Fantasy Award. I could, and will, argue the case for each of these.
If you really wanted to push the point, sf is really just a sub-set of the much larger genre of "fantasy". But in the twentieth century the "fantasy" label started to pertain to a particular section of the literary landscape - think Tolkein and his ilk - and "science fiction" came to be the predominant and overarching term in common use. Again, this was probably a labelling issue which started in the 1920s with the advent of US fiction magazines styling themselves as specifically science fiction.
These days when we say science fiction, we also include horror (just about all of Stephen King for example), high or epic fantasy (Tolkein and Robert Jordan), cyberpunk and steampunk (Gibson and Sterling), alternate history (sometimes called "counterfactuals"), space opera (Iain M. Banks and Star Wars), superhero fiction (Superman and X-Men), and even, in some part, the literary sub-genre of magic realism.
It's a broad church; just about anything fits. Which probably goes some way to describing the philosophy behind sf conventions. But more on that next time.
Posted by larrikin at 02:46 PM Permalink | Comments (0)
New Banjo Paterson Poems
"The Courier-Mail" is reporting that a number of unknown Banjo Paterson poems have been found. The poems were hand-written, above his signature, in an old cash book dating back to the Boer War. Paterson was a war correspondent for "The Sydney Morning Herald" and "The Age" during that war, sailing to South Africa in October 1899.
Posted by larrikin at 08:46 AM Permalink | Comments (0)
Australian Bookcovers #125 - A River Town by Tom Keneally
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A River Town by Tom Keneally, 1995
(William Heinemann 1995 edition)
Posted by larrikin at 08:34 AM Permalink | Comments (0)
August 18, 2008
2008 Queensland Premier's Literary Awards Shortlists
The shortlists for the 2008 Queensland Premier's Literary Awards have been announced.
The shortlisted works are:
Science Writer Award
"Applying the paradox of prevention: Eradicate HIV", Bill Bowtell (Griffith Review)
Hail Caesar, Professor Caroline de Costa (Boolarong Press)
Cool Scientist, Stephen Luntz (Control Publications)
The Rise of Animals: Evolution and Diversification of the Kingdom Animalia, Dr Patricia Vickers-Rich, Mikhal A. Fedonkin, James G. Gehling, Kathleen Grey and Guy M. Narbonne (Johns Hopkins University Press)
Why is Uranus Upside Down? And other questions about the Universe, Professor Fred Watson (Allen & Unwin)
Literary or Media Work Advancing Public Debate - The Harry Williams Award
People Like Us, Waleed Aly (Pan Macmillan Australia)
John Winston Howard, Wayne Errington and Peter van Onselen (Melbourne University Publishing)
"No Jail for Rape of Girl, 10", Tony Koch (The Australian)
"Quarterly Essay Issue 27: Reaction Time", Emeritus Professor Ian Lowe (Quarterly Essay)
"In My Shoes", Quentin McDermott and Steve Taylor (Four Corners, The ABC)
Film Script - Pacific Film & Television Commission Award
"Elise", James Bogle (Film 2 Opportunity)
"Prime Mover", David Caesar (Porchlight Films)
"The Square", Joel Edgerton and Matthew Dabner (Film Depot)
"Punishment", Danny Matier (Glover Productions)
Drama Script (Stage) Award
"When the Rain Stops Falling", Andrew Bovell (Scott Theatre)
"Ruben Guthrie", Brendan Cowell (Company B)
"Toy Symphony", Michael Gow (Belvoir Street Theatre - B Sharp)
"The Serpent's Teeth", Daniel Keene (Sydney Theatre Company)
"The Seed", Kate Mulvany (Belvoir Street Theatre - B Sharp)
Television Script - QUT Creative Industries Award
"Bed of Roses", Jutta Goetze and Elizabeth Coleman (Ruby/Southern Star Ent. Pty. Ltd)
"Underbelly: Episode 7 - Wise Monkeys", Felicity Packard (Screentime)
"Stupid, Stupid Man, Episode 9 - The Black Dog", Timothy Pye (Jigsaw Entertainment)
History Book - Faculty of Arts, University of Queensland Award
Van Diemen's Land, James Boyce (Black Inc)
Big White Lie: Chinese Australians in White Australia, Professor John Fitzgerald (University of New South Wales Press Limited)
Vietnam The Australian War, Paul Ham (HarperCollins Publishers Australia)
An Exacting Heart, Jacqueline Kent (Penguin Group)
Drawing the Global Colour Line Professor Marilyn Lake and Professor Henry Reynolds (Melbourne University Publishing)
Non Fiction Book Award
Arthur Boyd, Dr Darleen Bungey (Allen & Unwin)
An Exacting Heart, Jacqueline Kent (Penguin Group)
Muck, Craig Sherborne (Black Inc)
American Journeys, Don Watson (Random House (KNOPF))
Fiction Book Award
His Illegal Self, Peter Carey (Random House (KNOPF))
Diary of a Bad Year, J.M Coetzee (Text Publishing)
The Trout Opera, Matthew Condon (Random House (Vintage))
The Spare Room, Helen Garner (Text Publishing)
Breath, Tim Winton (Penguin Group Australia)
Poetry Collection - Arts Queensland Judith Wright Calanthe Award
Event, Judith Bishop (Salt Publishing/Inbooks)
Bark, Anthony Lawrence (University of Queensland Press)
Typewriter Music, David Malouf (University of Queensland Press)
The Australian Popular Songbook, Alan Wearne (Giramondo Publishing)
Australian Short Story - Arts Queensland Steele Rudd Award
Someone Else, John Hughes (Giramondo Publishing)
Camera Obscura, Kathryn Lomer (University of Queensland Press)
Redfin, Anthony Lynch (ARCADIA)
The End of the World, Paddy O'Reilly (University of Queensland Press)
Emerging Queensland Author - Manuscript Award
None of the Other Flies Follow My Crooked Lines, Simon Groth
Side Close Side; Stories of Love, Krissy Kneen
Learning How to Breathe, Linda Neil
Omega Park, Amy Vought Barker
Unpublished Indigenous Writer - The David Unaipon Award
10 Hail Mary's, Kate Howarth
White Elephant, Jeanine Leane
Every Secret Thing, Marie Munkara
Children's Book - Mary Ryan's Award
Jessica's Box, Peter Carnavas (New Frontier Publishing)
The Peasant Prince, Li Cunxin and Anne Spudvilas (Penguin Group Australia)
Collecting Colour, Kylie Dunstan (Lothian Children's Books an imprint of Hachette Livre Australia)
Crow and The Waterhole, Ambelin Kwaymullina (Fremantle Press)
The Worry Tree, Marianne Musgrove (Random House)
Young Adult Book Award
Requiem for a Beast, Matt Ottley (Lothian Children's Books an imprint of Hachette Livre Australia)
Marty's Shadow, John Heffernan (Omnibus Books)
The Push, Julia Lawrinson (Penguin Group Australia)
Town, James Roy (University of Queensland Press)
At Seventeen, Celeste Walters (University of Queensland Press)
The winners will be announced on Tuesday 16th September.
Posted by larrikin at 10:11 AM Permalink | Comments (0)
Phillip Gwynne Profile
Phillip Gwynne, author of Deadly, Unna? which was adapted for the screen under the title Australian Rules, is interviewed in "The Sydney Morning Herald" by Keith Austin. The writer's new novel is a crime thriller set in Darwin.
The plot of the new book concerns a body found in a billabong and the main protagonist is Dusty Buchanon, a female Northern Territory Police Force detective who has two dogs and drives a beaten-up ute.Interestingly, one of Gwynne's sisters, Colleen Gwynne, is a cop in the Northern Territory Police Force who has two dogs and drives a beaten-up ute.
"Yes," he says, "my sister is a detective in Darwin. Well, she's a commander now. She was in charge of the [Peter] Falconio case, so she's not just a PC Plod, she's fairly high up.
Posted by larrikin at 09:07 AM Permalink | Comments (0)
2008 CBCA Book of the Year Winners Announced
The winners of the Children's Book Council of Australia Book of the Year awards have been announced. We published the full list of the nominated titles back in April.
The winners were:
Book of the Year: Older Readers
The Ghost's Child by Sonya Hartnett (Viking)
Honour books:
Black Water by David Metzenthen (Penguin)
Marty's Shadow by John Heffernan (Omnibus)
Book of the Year: Younger Readers
Dragon Moon by Carole Wilkinson (Black Dog Books)
Honour books:
Amelia Dee and the Peacock Lamp by Odo Hirsch (A&U)
Sixth Grade Style Queen (Not!) by Sherryl Clark, illus by Elissa Christian (Puffin)
Book of the Year: Early Childhood
Pearl Barley and Charlie Parsley by Aaron Blabey (Viking)
Honour books:
Cat by Mike Dumbleton, illus by Craig Smith (Working Title Press)
Lucy Goosey by Margaret Wild, illus by Ann James (Little Hare Books)
Picture Book of the Year
Requiem for a Beast by Matt Ottley, (Lothian)
Honour books:
Dust by Colin Thompson and 13 other illustrators (ABC Books)
The Peasant Prince by Anne Spudvilas, text by Li Cunxin (Viking)
Eve Pownall Award for Information Books
Parsley Rabbit's Book about Books by Frances Watts, illus by David Legge (ABC Books)
Honour books:
Girl Stuff: Your Full-on Guide to the Teen Years by Kaz Cooke (Viking)
Kokoda Track: 101 Days by Peter Macinnis (Black Dog Books)
Crichton Award for New Illustrators
Santa's Aussie Holiday by Anna Walker, text by Maria Farrer (Scholastic)
Posted by larrikin at 08:48 AM Permalink | Comments (0)
August 16, 2008
Poem: The Horse Poet by D.
The late "Joe" Giuliani (champion rider) had two bitter unconquerable dislikes -- viz., horse-poets and motors, in that order of detestation. -- Bulletin, 21/5/'08.
Observe the Horse-poet, camerado:
His is full, positively full, of strange oaths,
And quaint, unusual blasphemies;
Weird, unconvincing reminiscences are his,
Likewise he is dirty.
Dios! but he is dirty!
Hearken while he skites!
Hush!
He speaks of a race run "in blanky old Dynamite's year."
It appears that he owned Dynamite,
Also he trained him,
He taught him to jump,
He steered him in his every race,
He weighed in and out with him;
The animal owed all, abso-blanky-lootly all, of its success in life to him
The Horse-poet;
Whom mark closely.
Hold while he tells of his astuteness.
Of Ikey O'Brien he now sings, and of the latter's pathetic fatuity.
Ike, when up against the Horse-poet, was, it appears, a Poor Circumstance always;
He was a Mug, a Lamb, a Jay,
An over-ripe financial vegetable from which the rind might be peeled
In huge lumps
Chumps
And quantities.
Caramba!
The road to Randwick is paved with bust pencillers
All named Isaac O'Brien,
And each the victim of the Horse-poet,
The triumphant person,
Who knows men and things.
Gather ye now, camerados, around the bowed knees of his Pegasus,
He will tell you how he did it all.
Or rather, on second thoughts, he won't;
For his methods are Indescribable.
Likewise it were useless in any case to attempt to describe them; for they are Inimitable.
And it is just as well that they are,
Since there is no money in them;
In which respect they resemble the Horse-poet,
Who has done all things,
And most men,
Yet remains, withal,
Broke
(Or durned near it);
And sick of Life,
One of whose Supreme and Mysterious Wonders he nevertheless continues to be.
First published in The Bulletin, 28 May 1908
Posted by larrikin at 09:28 AM Permalink | Comments (0)
August 15, 2008
The Line
Some people can find themselves more than a little overtaken by the personality of certain bush poets.
Danielle Torres includes A Town Like Alice by Nevil Shute in her list of books for "War in Fiction, Part 2, WW II".
Matt Rubinstein's novel A Little Rain on Thursday is to get a German edition, titled Ein leichter Regen am Donnerstag. Which pretty much stands as a literal translation. Something new, I think.
Twitchy Finger's favourite part of Banjo Paterson's "Clancy of the Overflow" are the lines:
And he sees the vision splendid of the sunlit plain extended,If you look at the banner of this weblog you'll see mine.
And at night the wondrous glory of the everlasting stars.
Posted by larrikin at 04:53 PM Permalink | Comments (0)
Susan Johnson Profile
Matthew Condon has interviewed author Susan Johnson, for "The Courier-Mail", as her new novel, Life in Seven Mistakes, becomes available.
"As I went along I realised I was going to be writing a whole life virtually from birth to death in various guises with members of this family," Johnson says. "I started to think about the whole notion of the seven ages of man and around the idea of life as a big mistake.(The novel has, as one of its epigraphs, the quote from Shakespeare's As You Like It: "And one man in his time plays many parts, His act being seven ages.")
"I had a notion very early that we all go through life and we make these choices and decisions and we're acting in a rational mode, but in fact my experience of existence is that our choices and how we live are acted out on a deeply irrational level and we don't know how we live.
"I kept the idea that life, in essence, is like one long series of mistakes in the sense that we bumble through and we really don't know what we're doing."
Posted by larrikin at 01:51 PM Permalink | Comments (0)
Reviews of Australian Books #93
The first review I've seen of Margo Lanagan's upcoming novel, Tender Morsels, appears in "Locus" magazine, from Gary K. Wolfe. (This is hardly surprising given the book isn't released for some months yet.) This review starts off with a very good explanation of the YA marketing and publishing category, its position and its implications. "Lanagan's Tender Morsels is perhaps best approached without any YA preconceptions, for reasons that become apparent before we're halfway through the prologue, which begins literally with a roll in the hay ('you have the kitment of a full man,' explains the witch to the dwarf, 'however short a stump you are the rest of you.')...By its second half, Tender Morsels begins to take on a density and moral complexity almost suggestive of a George Eliot novel, with its decades-long narrative arc, its shifting relationships, its questions involving responsibility, misdirected love, and the nature of families. Or maybe it's simply a more expansive exploration of the kinds of worlds we've glimpsed in condensed form in some of Lanagan's stories -- it's certainly more leisurely in its development, and more accessible in its prose (those who find Lanagan's characteristic neologisms and swaggy narrative voices a challenge may view this with some relief, though she's still one of the few authors who could get away with a line like 'she cackled ivorily'). Either way, it's a brilliant realization of a brilliant promise, and a profoundly moving tale. "
Louise Swinn is very impressed with Susan Johnson's new novel, Life in Seven Mistakes, in "The Sydney Morning Herlad": "There will be a whole host of readers looking forward to the latest release by Susan Johnson, readers who have enjoyed her work since Messages From Chaos 20 years ago or readers who joined in more recently for her painful memoir, A Better Woman, or for her novel inspired by the life of Charmian Clift, The Broken Book. Johnson has shown substantial breadth. She has a knack for presenting what can be unbearable in reality, of rendering it on the page with tremendous heart, making it readable and going one step further: somehow managing to make it enjoyable."
Short Notices
Diana Carroll in "The Independent Weekly" reviews Dreamland by Tom Gilling: "Gilling knows Sydney well and has a fine insight into that shadowy world where public and private lives collide in the media, the boardroom, and the courtroom. His characters are believable, ordinary people placed in extraordinary situations. And he tells a good story. I loved this novel from the beginning to the very last page; unfortunately, I felt badly betrayed by the ending and desperately wanted more. Apart from that small disappointment, this is an accomplished novel from a very talented Australian author."
The "ScrippsNews" website takes a look at Garth Nix's "The Keys to the Kingdom" series of YA novels and is pretty impressed: "Nix's series has developed a deservedly loyal following that has impatiently awaited each installment. These are books that can easily take repeated readings -- there's so much detail in each one that it's hard to take in all at once. For better or for worse, however, it's not a series that can be read out of order; instead, readers need to take the time to wade through each volume to truly understand what's going on."
On her "Reading Matters" weblog, kimbofo considers Thirteen Tonne Theory: Life Inside Hunters and Collectors by Mark Seymour to be an excellent read: "...it's a wonderful, if slightly worthy, warts-and-all account that fans will find fascinating."
Johnnie Craig, on the "I Have Grave News" weblog judges Disquitet by Julia Leigh to be a triumph: "A multitude of underlying plotlines, personal dramas and secret histories bubble just beneath the surface, and Disquiet could easily have evolved into a weighty family saga; yet the things we don't discover carry the same weight as those we do."
James Purdon in "The Observer" on The Resurrectionist by James Bradley: "Bradley has tamed the scattershot plotting of his earlier work into a prose of neat vignettes, catching the gore of the mortuary slab and the seedy high of the opium den."
The "Tuesday in Silhouette" weblog on The Lost Dog by Michelle de Kretser: "It's one of those books that hums quietly along; even though extraodinary things may happen, it really does feel like an everyday kind of travel. It just pulls you along as the characters journey through life. That's what I loved about it. The writing. The writing was quite lovely."
The "Light the Shade" weblog on The Art of the Engine Driver by Steven Carroll: "One aspect of Steven's writing amazes me, and that is his wonderful talent of being able to deliver the ending to a story before its truly begun without losing the reader. I am not sure if other people would find this delightful as I do, or irritating, and indeed in other books I have found the looking forward such as 'this would be a moment they would remember for years to come' or 'this single moment, Jack would ponder many times in his future' to be an annoying way of underlining text to ensure the reader knows its important. But in this story I found it charming, in an odd way, it is like being let in on a secret that only you and the author share."
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