Monthly Archives: January 2017

‘My Name is Lucy Barton’ by Elizabeth Strout

strout

2016, 208p.

Lucy Barton lies in a New York hospital bed, seriously ill,  watching the lights in the Chrysler Building. Complications have set in after an appendectomy and she is frightened and desperately missing her two young daughters. Her husband has called her mother to come, and she has. She is sitting beside the bed, not sleeping.

The two women have been estranged for years and the mother keeps the conversation light, circling between anecdotes about shared acquaintances from the past. This is a conversation where the important things are left unsaid, as they always have been. It’s not a conversation between two adult women at all. Instead, Lucy is still the child, desperately wanting her mother to tell her that she loves her.  She cannot even frame the question about the poverty, physical, social and emotional, in which the family lived. Her mind shies away from the questions that she really needs to ask about her father’s post-war trauma, the punishment of being left in a truck, and even worse.

The narrative is simply told in retrospect, after Lucy – a published and accomplished writer- has recovered from her illness and moved on to another phase of her life.  Despite its 200 plus pages, the layout of the text provides a much shorter text,  in brief chapters and surrounded by much blank paper.  It is more novella than novel and it evokes the author’s earlier  Olive Kitteridge in its knife-sharp approach to relationships. I’m bemused by reviews that focus on the love between mother and daughter. I find it far more unsettling and much darker than that.

Source: Yarra Plenty Regional Library

My rating:  8/10

Movie: ‘A United Kingdom’

There’s 54 countries in Africa, and each would have its own distinct post-colonial story. To my shame I know very few of them- just a smattering of knowledge about the Mau Mau rebellion in Kenya and that’s just about it. Although some aspects of this film are for dramatic interest (e.g. the British public servants here are not historical figures), the rest is pretty accurate.  I thought for a minute that I might have to rethink my opinion of Winston Churchill- but I didn’t.  A United Kingdom is a good movie (and here’s a link to the obituary for Ruth Khama)

My rating: 4.5 out of 5

‘Illicit Love: Interracial Sex & Marriage in the United States & Australia’ by Ann McGrath

mcgrath

2015, 393 p & notes

Someone talking about this book recently described it as “the book that Ann McGrath has been writing all her life”. They were not being facetious or unkind.  Instead, I think that they were paying recognition to the fact that this book, coming relatively late in her career, completes the circle that she began to draw in her first book Born in the Cattle published from her PhD in 1987.  In that first book she focussed on Indigenous people who lived on the cattle stations outback in the late nineteenth and first half of the 20th century. She argued that  being ‘born in the cattle’ [country] meant that they could exert agency by maintaining their connection with the land and ceremony.  She does not resile from the fact that there was dispossession, financial exploitation and rape, but emphasizes there were loving and joyful relationships too.

It is a similar tightrope argument that she mounts here in Illicit Love too: that love and intermarriage between colonizer and Indigenous individuals are a hidden plot line in settler sovereignty.  Such relationships (and she’s talking about long-term relationships here, not casual or coerced sex) confounded the quick clear-cut sense of completion that colonization aspired to,  characterized by a rapid process of battle, victory and with the   colonizer-led nation finally despatching the eventual ‘last’ of the tribe. Instead

When a man and a woman married across colonizing boundaries, they broke one law or another. Even if their union was not against any official colonizer or Indigenous law, it pitched against family and community wishes. It was inherently transnational.  Illicit lovers began to absorb the worlds in which they lived, and to create, and make worlds anew.  In so doing , they challenged the vision of what the nation would be. (p. 1)

My eye snagged a little on the phrase “inherently transnational” on this first page of the book. ‘Transnational’ in historical methodological terms in recent work generally refers to the  movement of people and ideas across networks and oceans. It usually refers to trans-continental exchange.  In this book, however, the frame of her analysis is colonization as experienced by two different indigenous groups on two different continents:  the Cherokee nation between 1810-1840s and the several nations inhabiting the North Queensland coastline between 1900-1930. Her attention is directed to the “colonizing transnational” i.e. the intersections, relations and links between colonizer nations and First Nations (p.6) in each of these two sites.  These are nations within the same continent, where the colonizing nation struggled to frame the indigenous people as ‘foreigners’ because they were already there.  The stories she draws from these two sites do not necessarily function as comparative case studies but

Instead, in order to apply a strategy of juxtaposition, I put together and tease out a selection of emblematic narratives…The aim is to explore and delve into stories that were worlds apart, with the expectation that each will unsettle the other.  Rather than attempting a comparative or survey approach, I looked for eye-opening exemplars of what happened between peoples and polities in different times and places.  My aim is to engage with the vitality of the micro- the courtship and marital experiences of particular people in discrete times and places.  (p. 5)

She starts, as many historians do, in the archive, waiting with a Native American scholar for the delivery of a file. Inside the file is a flower pressing- a spray of fine twigs and a bud tied with string. The accompanying note read: “Presented to Mrs Mary B. Ross by Mrs Madison the widow of Ex President Madison”.  She returns to this vignette of the pressed flowers, and its meaning, later in the book. Continue reading

Australian Women Writers Challenge 2017

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Now that the Christmas tree is taken down and chopped up, it’s time to admit that yes, Christmas is over, and turn my mind to 2017. I’ll be participating in the Australian Women Writers Challenge 2017 again and once again I’ll nominate ‘Franklin’ level (10 books) and make a resolution to read more female Australian historians’ work. This year I’ll be writing the round-up posts for Non Fiction  (which unfortunately is a different category to History, Biography and Autobiography) so that might nudge me into looking for women non-fiction writers a bit more.

So, as they say in Spanish “¡Qué se abra el telón!  (Raise the curtain! Let the show begin!)

aww2017-badge

Movie: Nocturnal Animals

This movie was nothing like I thought it would be.  I knew that it was about a woman who was forwarded the draft of a book written by her ex-husband and dedicated to her. On reading it, she came to question past events, and finds that revenge can be served in many ways.

I was expecting a bit of a dinner-table psychodrama. I wasn’t prepared for the violence or dystopian bleakness of this movie.  A very critical review ‘I’m so glad to spoil this film for you’ found much the same thing.  I don’t know if I’ll be quite as malicious, but this film is certainly NOT a dinner-table psychodrama. Don’t think Woody Allen: think Mad Max.

My rating: Hard to say -4? but too violent and disturbing for me.

Movie: I, Daniel Blake

At a time when our government is sending out computer-generated demands for repayments of debts that may or may not be owed by Newstart clients, every member of Parliament should be made to sit down and watch this film. “Just get online and fix up your details” flows so easily from the lips of a politician,  but as we see with older worker Daniel Blake, it’s not so easy. Mr Bumble the Beadle from Oliver Twist might be a figure from the past, but the oily, formulaic weasel-speak of the employment centre staff is just as patronizing.

My rating: 4.5/5 stars

Redmond Barry’s house in East Melbourne

There’s a couple of derelict mansions in Clarendon Street. When I first read about the neglect of Valetta, I thought that it was the increasingly ramshackle mansion down near Alexandra Pde that I had assumed that belonged to the Pullman Hotel (ex-Hilton Hotel). Valetta, however, is at the other end of Clarendon Street, near Victoria Pde, up near Epworth/Freemasons Hospital.  The adjacent Clarendon House shows how beautiful it could be, and you can see the boarded up Valetta to the right of the picture.

clarendon-terrace

http://www.domain.com.au/news/fears-east-melbourne-mansion-valetta-house-may-become-case-of-demolition-by-neglect-20170116-gts4m4/

Valetta was the residence of Redmond Barry, who plays a rather prominent part in this blog (here and here) and in multiple places in the ‘This Week in Port Phillip’ postings. Or rather, he lived there for one year before he died.

the-funeral-of-the-late-sir-redmond-barry

Valetta can be seen here, with Clarendon Terrace to the left.

Source: State Library of Victoria http://handle.slv.vic.gov.au/10381/296603

It will be interesting to see if this new Heritage Act has teeth in terms of forcing the owner to act. I’m not holding my breath.

Movie: Hell or High Water

I’ve seen this described as a ‘Neo-Western’ which is what it is, I suppose, with lots of shoot-em-up and Texan drawls that are almost incomprehensible to my little Aussie ears. But it’s more than this. Set in a dry, featureless landscape with oil pumps rocking on small holdings with ramshackle houses surrounded by clapped-out cars, this is almost a rural version of ‘99 homes‘. A divorced father and his brother who has recently been released from prison, embark on a series of bank robberies that an old, soon-to-retire police chief is despatched to solve.  Not really my cup of tea, but there’s more to it than might appear.

My rating: 3.5/5

This Week in Port Phillip 8-15 January 1842

Twelfth Night

Well, it was the week after New Year and some people celebrated Twelfth Night (which I gather is more significant in England than it is here in Australia). Twelfth Cakes were available from Mr Burgin the pastrycook in Collins-street.

twelfth-cake-with-feathers

http://www.historicfood.com/John%20Mollard’s%20Twelfth%20Cake.html

From the Port Phillip Gazette:

TWELFTH NIGHT. The shop of Mr Burgin, pastrycook of Collins’ street exhibited on Thursday evening a splendid variety of Twelfth Cakes, of all prices and dimensions, capable of suiting all parties and pockets.   The larger class were gaily ornamented with a variety of beautiful French ornaments, lately received by Mr Burgin. [PPG 8/1/42]

The Port Phillip Patriot had a similar report:

TWELFTH NIGHT The lovers of good old English customs duly celebrated Twelfth Night in all its routine of harmless merriment on Thursday last, and great was the run on the vendors of pastry for the occasion. The tempting display of twelfth cakes made by Mr Burgin, deserves particular mention, being such as would have done credit to the shop of the first pastry-cook in London.[PPP 10/1/42]

Infrastructure

During January 1842 work commenced on two infrastructure projects that had been demanded for some time.  The first was to construct a weir in the Yarra River at ‘The Falls’ at the bottom of Queen Street. ‘The Falls’ is a rather generous description: it was a small rocky outcrop that separated the salt water coming up from the bay from the fresh water coming down from the Yarra catchment. It may have been small, but it was very important because the town’s water supply was taken from the freshwater section, and when the falls were swamped by flood water or high tides, the fresh water supply was contaminated.

melbourne-from-the-falls-from-a-sketch-oct-1838

[Melbourne from the falls, from a sketch Oct. 1838] [picture] / Robert Russell. State Library of Victoria http://handle.slv.vic.gov.au/10381/41843

There had been an attempt to build up the falls in 1839, and now with many unemployed labourers congregating around Melbourne, they were put to work on the weir (also a rather generous description.)

A gang of hands are now employed on the Weir; in the first instance only one wall will be built, after which a second will be added, and the intervening space filled up with puddling clay; the whole width of the Weir will be twenty-seven feet; and when there is no fresh water in the river will serve the purpose of a bridge [PPG 8/1/42]

It is sobering to realize that the Yarra did not have a properly constructed bridge across it until 1845. Until then, people were reliant on punts. I’m not sure that the weir was ever used for crossing purposes, and these works soon deteriorated just as the 1839construction  did.

The second infrastructure project was to build a road from ‘the beach’ (i.e. Port Melbourne) to Melbourne town. After mooring in Hobson’s Bay, visitors to Melbourne had two choices: to travel up the Yarra by steamer, or to travel overland from Port Melbourne to town. It was a rough track, for which Mr Liardet had the contract for a conveyance service.  It was not unknown for people to be held up by thieves en route. Clearing the road was a good project for the unemployed labourers:

WE are glad to learn that a number of the newly arrived immigrants are employed in constructing a road between Melbourne and the Beach. This, perhaps, is one of the most crying of “our wants” and we trust that its satisfaction is only the prelude to the many and important benefits which His Excellency intends to confer on the dwellers in Australia the Happy [PPP 13/1/42]

and

THE NEW ROAD. At last the Government have commenced the line of road from the site of the projected new bridge to the beach. The surveyors are hard at work laying out the line, and all the unemployed immigrants are employed in felling and stumping in all directions. They are allowed four shillings a day, but find their own rations. [PPG 12/1/42]

Although no doubt people were pleased to see this infrastructure finally being built, the fact that it was being constructed by unemployed labourers as a government scheme was a sign of market failure.  These labourers had been encouraged to Port Phillip with the promise of abundant work, prior to the recession which was just starting to bite. They were never intended to be a burden on the government.

Things getting worse

A sign of the deterioration of economic conditions was the falling price of land.

FALL IN LAND.On Tuesday was brought to the hammer by Mr Sugden, the Sheriff’s Baillif, a piece of land in the upper end of Little Flinders-street, which was knocked down to Mr F. E. Falkiner at 27s per foot. About two years since the same land was purchased by the proprietor on whose account it was sold, at £4 4s. per foot. [PPG 12/1/42]

A change of government overseas

I’m writing this entry in the week prior to Donald Trump’s inauguration. It is a political event that Australia has been powerless to influence, but which  will affect Australia and the rest of the world nonetheless.  In early 1842 the Australian newspapers were digesting the just-received news of the appointment of a new Conservative government in September 1841, headed by Sir Robert Peel after six years of Whig government. This situation, like Trump’s inauguration this week, had the potential to bring a new political stance to matters affecting the Australian colonies.   Although it was not likely that a Conservative government would lean towards either representative or responsible government in the Australian colonies, the Sydney Gazette thought that the change of government offered a good opportunity to agitate for representative government in local affairs:

No time could be more opportune than the present to petition our gracious Queen and the Imperial Parliament. The Conservative party are actuated, no doubt, with a strong desire to conciliate not only the people of Great Britain, but the millions that constitute her immense Colonial Empire. The cause that has led to this change of opinion, and to the appointment as Colonial Minister, of Lord Stanley, one of the most talented , all will admit, of the men who now sway the destinies of the British Empire, can be traced to the long expulsion of the Tory party from the sweets of office. Desirous, as most statesmen are- whatever their creed- of place, pay and patronage, we cannot imagine that the Conservative body are so indifferent to their own advantage, as to neglect strengthening their power by adopting a more liberal policy towards the Colonies than any Ministry have yet thought it incumbent on them to do. [Sydney Gazette cited in Port Phillip Gazette 15/1/42]

A portable house

The advertising columns carried this advertisement for a ‘portable cottage’. Many of the early buildings- including La Trobe’s cottage still standing in Melbourne- were prefabricated structures that were shipped from London. These were wooden structures, which were later replaced by portable iron houses (I wrote about my visit to the portable iron houses in South Melbourne here.)

 LONDON BUILT PORTABLE COTTAGE. A very superior cottage built by Manning of London, is for sale by private bargain. Its area is 59 X 20 feet, one storey high, built in the Gothic style. The accommodation consists of dining and drawing rooms, five bedrooms, one dressing closet, store room, water closet (with patent apparatus) and an attic 59 X 13 feet, which may be divided into sleeping apartments, &c &c. There are slates and lead for the roof and plaster laths, for the ceiling together will all the necessary fittings for its due completion; in fact its one of the most complete and well arranged cottages that has ever been sent out tho this colony, and as the party for whom it was built have taken up their resident in Sydney, it will be disposed of on very moderate terms.  Apply at the stores of Messrs Dunlop McNab & Co, where a sketch will be shown and every other information given. [PPG 8/1/42]

It seems to fit rather a lot into its 59 feet and I assume that the five bedrooms were rather cosy!

The Police Court

Miss Fanny Ross (AKA ‘Flash Nan’) appeared in the police court after a well-intentioned (I’m sure) attempt to entertain the immigrants. She had been enjoying a quiet pint with her cousin, and once he left her and feeling the spirit move her, she bought tooth-picks for the lately-arrived immigrants and amused herself imitating ‘L’Esmeralda’ from the Hunchback of Notre Dame by dancing the tarantella with a tamborine accompaniment. She was fined five shillings for her trouble. (PPH 11/1/42]

Meanwhile Peter Tuite and his wife Catherine were jointly indicted before the Supreme Court for keeping a brothel

The facts of this case are of too gross a nature for publication. It was proved that the prisoners kept a most disreputable house, in a land leading from Sidebottom’s public house, to Bourke-lane, where drinking, fiddling, and all sorts of disturbances were of nightly occurrence (PPP 10/1/42)

They were both found guilty by the jury and Judge Willis sentenced them both to two years jail at hard labour, and a fifty pound fine for Peter Tuite.

A singular coincidence

Amongst the prominent legal personalities in Port Phillip at this time were James Croke, the Crown Prosecutor, and Redmond Barry, who was the Commissioner of the Court of Requests as well as a barrister in the Supreme Court.  In January 1842 he was particularly well known for his defence of the Aboriginal Van Diemen’s Land prisoners who, yes, were still languishing in jail (and of whom we will read next week).

SINGULAR COINCIDENCE. The worshippers at the Episcopal Church in this town on Sunday last were provoked into a breach of decorum which had almost brought down upon their heads the rebuke of the reverend chaplain, by an awkward similarity between the names of two of the aspirants to the felicities of the married life, and those of two gentlemen learned in the law, whose position as officers of the Government necessarily brings them often before the public. The worthy clerk had just discharged the preparatory hems with which he is wont to preface his matrimonial announcements, and finding the congregation all attention proceeded to publish the banns of marriage between “James Croke, bachelor, and Mary Barry, spinster, for the third and last time”. Now Mr Croke, the barrister- not Mr Croke, the bridegroom, being a sober, steady-going bachelor, and a most unlikely butt for Cupid’s shafts, every body stared with astonishment on finding the the learned gentleman in such a predicament, and expectation was wound to the highest pitch while the clerk, who by the way is none of the quickest, proceeded to give the name of the enslaver of the heart of Her Majesty’s Crown Prosecutor. When at last the name of “Mary Barry, spinster” was proclaimed, the air of astonishment was changed to a universal titter, for every-body supposed that a hoax was being played off of which Mr Croke, Her Majesty’s Crown Prosecutor, and Mr Barry, the Commissioner of the Court of Requests, were the victims, and the worthy clerk the unconscious instrument, and it was not without some difficulty and until after several very ominous looks from the reverend chaplain that order was restored and the service proceeded  [PPP 13/1/42]

How’s the weather?

The official weather report noted ‘Fine agreeable weather’ with showers on the 12th and 13th and a top temperature with an ‘attached thermometer’ of 86 (30C) degrees.   The Port Phillip Patriot, which published its own weekly meteorologic report, reported

Jan 9  – Max: 72/ Min: 53; Jan 10- Max: 80/Min:58; Jan 11- Max:80/Min:59; Jan 12- Max:81/Min:64; Jan 13- Max:80/Min:53; Jan 14- Max:68/Min:50; Jan 15-Max: 67Min:/50 [PPP 17 January 1842]

So, all in all, pleasant summer weather with cooler weather on 14th and 15th January.  Interesting, though, that the warmest night was 64 (17.8 degrees), with most nights in the  50’s (12-15 C)

 

 

 

‘Looking Through You: Rare and Unseen Photographs from the Beatles Book Archive’ by Leslie Bryce

lookingthroughyou

192 p. 2016

As part of my nostalgic after-glow from seeing Eight Days a Week, I snapped up this book at my library when I saw it on the New Non Fiction shelves.  It features beautifully clear photographs that were taken by photographer Leslie Bryce who, along with published Sean O’Mahony, issued a small monthly booklet called ‘The Beatles Monthly Magazine’ during the Beatles phenomenon of the 1960s.

beatlesmonthlybook

Now fetching about $30 each on E-Bay, they originally cost 1/6d (15 cents for those readers who are P.D. [pre-decimal]) and there were 77 editions issued between 1963 and 1969. It was resuscitated in 1976 and finally ceased publication in 2003.

They were a bit of a hack-job, replicating the format of other similar fan magazines, and filled with pictures and articles that purported to be interviews.  It contained a letters page with the occasional ghost-written Beatles reply,  a Beatles  News page and the lyrics of the month’s Beatles Song. However, they were given unprecedented access to the Beatles backstage and in the recording studio, and were part of the team.  Pages 4 and 5 of the magazine were devoted to the National Fan Club newsletter, with its fictitious secretary Anne Collingham, a made-up name to cover the rotating team of staff who answered the fan mail that arrived at the Offical Beatles Fan Club  organized through the Beatles’ press officer.  The Beatles Book was distributed to over a million people world wide, and Official Beatles Fan Club membership reached a peak of 80,000 world wide.

At first,The Beatles Book contained biographical articles to introduce ‘the boys’ to their fans, but increasingly it became a way of keeping the world at bay.  The Beatles of 1963 and 1964 welcomed the photographic publicity, but by late 1966/early 1967 the torrent of photographs had slowed to a trickle.  The final photographs in the book are mainly taken at recording sessions – Sgt Peppers, Revolver etc- where the tension between them  is palpable.

Ah, but those younger photos are so clear and exuberant!  Did they brush their hair specially each time the camera came out, I wonder?- it’s certainly shiny clean hair, and suit and tie were their ‘brand’.  The earliest photographs in the book were taken in 1963 when the Beatles played at summer seaside locations (Margate and Bournemouth) before heading to London in December 1963- then Paris, New York, Washington, Florida, Europe- no Australia here.

The photographs have interesting little captions and snippets of fascinating facts. Did you know, for instance, that the last note in the gobbledegook at the end of Sgt Peppers can only be heard by dogs? [I don’t have a dog to try it out on anymore].

Anyway- beautiful photos that I certainly hadn’t seen before and an interesting flip-through if you’re in the mood for some innocent nostalgia.

Sourced from: Yarra Plenty Regional Library

My rating: 7/10 (difficult to rate, really)