Category Archives: Uncategorized

I hear with my little ear: Podcasts 16-23 April 2026

Foundling. Episodes 1-3 This is a six-part series, presented by journalist Lucy Greenwell and I binge-listened to the first three episodes. Greenwell remembered a story about a baby that was found on the verge in a deserted lane in her village in October 1987. The mother was never found and the baby, Jess, was placed for adoption. So, some 40 years later, Greenwell goes in search of Jess, and when she finds her, Jess is already wondering about her own origins. Jess does a DNA test, and she and Greenwell go back to the village to talk to people who were living there at the time, and one of the villagers suggests that she look at the young women who were working there as nannies at the time. When Jess receives the DNA results, Greenwell realizes that, as a child, she actually knew Jess’ mother who was acting as a nanny in a neighbouring house. Jess finds a half-sister and discovers her mother, but it is a complex relationship that doesn’t turn out as she thought it would.

The Rest is History Episode 644 The Fall of the Incas: Empire of Gold (Part 1) I must confess that I’m not absolutely clear about the Aztecs and the Incas, and I find from this episode that many historians and chroniclers of the time weren’t either, as similar themes and events occur in both of them. Somehow 167 men overcame 24 million Incans. The conquest of the Aztecs was the model. Christopher Columbus’ monopoly was abolished, and now anyone could go to Hispaniola if they shared the proceeds with the Crown. There were rival, feuding networks of Conquistadors, hopping from island to island. The Incas were what is now known as Peru, Western Ecuador, a bit of Colombia and Chile, and they were completely geographically isolated, and unaware of the conquest of the Aztecs. The leader of the expedition, Pizarro, was illiterate, strong and austere, compared with Cortez. In 1524 Pizarro and Diego de Almagro set off exploring, but they were unsuccessful and then in 1526 they set off again. His pilot Bartolomé Ruiz went further south, where he encountered a raft, laden with jewels for inter-tribal trade, so they knew that there was great wealth in the country. Pizarro was recalled to Panama but he refused to go, and only 12 men stayed with him. In 1529 Pizarro went back to see King Charles V and was given a franchise, but not for Almagro (which was to cause problems later). In 1530 Pizarro returned with 200 recruits, including his brothers and six Dominican friars. He promised Almagro the country of Chile, and Almagro stayed behind in Panama. Then Hernando de Soto arrived with more men and importantly, the horses, that struck such fear into the Incas. They crossed into modern-day Peru where they learned of the Inca empire that the Incas themselves called ‘The Realms of Four Parts’. They did not have writing, horses or wheels; it was a totalitarian slave-based society with no private property. There had been a recent civil war in 1532 between brothers Atahualpa and Huáscar which devastated the countryside and splintered the elites. This was the environment into which Pizarro and his men appeared.

How Did We Get Here Episode 3: From the Nineteenth Century to World War I In the 1800s there was still no ‘Palestine’ as such. The Ottomans saw their holdings as provinces, with no territorial identities. Jerusalem itself may have had only 2000 inhabitants. The province was Arabic speaking, with some Turks, Frankish merchants, migrants and pilgrims and travellers. Jews constituted about 5% of the population and they mainly lived in scholarly centres. The European powers each had ‘their’ group to support. The French championed the Maronites, the Russians the Orthodox Christians and Britain the Jews. In 1882 Russian persecution saw the sponsorship of Jewish families to move to what was to become Israel by rich families like the Rothschilds and Montefiores. At this point, Hertzel began talking of a ‘Jewish state’ but there was no sustained ‘Palestinian’ resistance at this stage (the term ‘Palestinian’ was coined by the Ottomans in about 1850). It was still a farming community, and large Arab families sold some land to Jewish purchasers. World War I saw the area become strategically interesting to the European powers. The Sykes-Picot agreement envisaged an internationalized Palestine, with defined spheres of influence for the British, French and Russians. Mark Sykes, the British Middle East expert, later distanced himself from the agreement that bore his name. Episode features Hugh Kennedy, Professor of Arabic at the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London, Eugene Rogan, Professor of Modern Middle Eastern History at Oxford University, and historian Simon Sebag Montefiore.

Journey Through Time. I decided to journey through time myself, and went back to the first episode hosted by David Olusoga and Sarah Churchwell in April 2025. The Attack That Shook America: German Spies in New York tells the story of the huge explosion on Black Tom Island, an island in New York Harbor next to Liberty Island, since infilled and annexed to Jersey City. The United States was officially neutral, with Germany still operating an Embassy in New York,but the munitions that were stored on the island were mainly exported to the Allies. Von Pappen, who was to reappear on the world stage some 20 years later was working in the German Embassy, and he set up the War Intelligence Centre gathering information in Manhatten. In 1914 Berlin ordered him to sabotage shipping of munitions between US and Europe, and 200 bombings were carried out. Wilson refused to believe that spies were at work, preferring diplomacy. The sinking of the Lusitania caused strong anti-German feeling in US, and Von Pappen was expelled from the US in 1916. Black Tom Island was an obvious target, but no-one tended to take it seriously.

‘Find Me at the Jaffa Gate’ by Micaela Sahhar

2025, 265 p. & notes etc.

I feel a bit naive. As part of the standard Christmas schlock, there’s usually a TV report from Bethlehem where brief mention is made of the Christian congregations that celebrate Christmas, often supplemented by Christian pilgrims from other countries, most particularly the United States. It has never occurred to me to think about the status of Christian Palestinians who continue to live there beyond Christmas, and how the Israeli/Palestinian conflict affects them. I have become so accustomed to linking Palestinian with Muslim, that I’ve forgotten that Palestinians can be of any religion.

And so ‘Find Me at the Jaffa Gate’ is a brisk corrective to this ignorance. The author, Micaela Sahhar, comes from a Christian family: at first an Orthodox family, then later some family members were born again into a more evangelical brand of Christianity. Following the Nakba her extended family has splinters: some come to Australia and settle in Newport and Williamstown, many others emigrate to America, and some stay. Michaela herself was born in Australia, and does not subscribe to any particular faith. Her father is Palestinian but was born in Jordan, because he was born within days of his family fleeing Jerusalem in the wake of the bombing of the Semiaris Hotel by Jewish terrorists, the Haganah, as part of the ‘de-Arabization’ of West Jerusalem. Just as important in this book are her grandparents, particular Pa and Ellen, who emigrated to Australia as part of the family shift. She has grown up with the stories of her grandparents, aunts and uncles, and great-grandparents, and the photos that testify that – yes- the family lived in Jerusalem, no matter how much their presence and identity as Christian Palestinians has been denied.

This book is a piecing together of the stories of the different generations of her family, with stories and photographs interwoven. She travels to America to meet branches of the family, and returns to Jerusalem and Jaffa to locate the places where they lived, and to find that her family is still remembered by the people who stayed. Palestinians- Christian and Muslim- face the same appropriation (theft) of land and livelihood, and they are subjected to the same surveillance and humiliation by the Israeli military forces. This is a personal, family pilgrimage, but it also part of her academic identity, explored through a Ph D, and so bolstered by subtly placed quotations of historians and activists. I particularly enjoyed the chapter on ‘Mr Settler Colonialism’ where she writes about her friendship with the late Patrick Wolfe, who I also knew, and who died far too young but whose influence is still powerful- if anything, with the destruction of Gaza it is even more plangent.

There’s a beautiful piece of writing at the close of the book where she dreams of returning to Jerusalem, standing in her Pa’s garden and speak to her grandparents:

I would like to say to my Pa and to Ellen that nothing is truly gone if you know how to look, to say, look here, I have built our beautiful home out of words, a house Pa built twice in his life already, first in Jerusalem and then with the shape of his key in the eye of his mind. One day I will…[shout] I am I. And I am here. And when I do, I know that Ellen and Pa will be with me too.

I will shout this at the intersection of Mamillah, and on the balcony of the house my Pa built, and I will give what voice I have to the most joyous euphonia of the Palestinians returning to our once and future home, with the dead on our shoulders and the living in our arms. We will burst through the gates of the Old City and roam the New Jerusalem from the Greek Colony to Talbiyeh, from Qatamon to Baq’a, sweeping south to Gaza and north to the Galilee, and to all the places we are indivisibly from and that are ours. And as I cross the threshold of my grandfather’s house, I will lay my burden down.

And if it should not be me, then it will be another, when I will be an ancestor and those that I have loved will all be stars. (p. 263)

But this really strong, affecting and ultimately defiant and hopeful ending is not enough to overcome my other qualms with the book. The subtitle of the book is ‘An Encyclopedia of a Palestinian Family’, and it does reflect the fragmentary, all-embracing nature of an encyclopedia. But few of us would read an encyclopedia by choice, and this does not have the genre-structure of an encyclopedia: it is not alphabetical, there is no index. There are 48 chapters, between 5-10 pages in length. The chronology and setting skip about, and right up to the end of the book I found myself having to refer to the family tree at the back of the book to work out who this person was because there were just so many, and only a few were fleshed out to be instantly recognizable.

I know that I’ve been complaining about these short, almost kaleidescopic mosaic books that seem to be so popular at the moment, and here I am doing so again. Any one of these chapters, except the last one, could have been placed anywhere, and with each one it felt like a carefully polished piece of discrete writing, almost more like a journal article or the product of a writing workshop rather than of an overarching structure. Perhaps I’m showing my age, but it all feels so filmic and the product and fodder of a short attention span. Perhaps I’m too old for all this and need something more 19th or 20th century in structure, staying well away from anything that has ‘fragmentary’ ‘gaps’ or ‘blank spaces’ in its description.

My rating:7.5/10

Sourced from: Yarra Plenty Regional Library

Read because: I saw that it won the non-fiction category of the Victorian Premiers Literary Awards.

‘The Last Painting of Sara de Vos’ by Dominic Smith

2016, 372 p.

I guess that you could say that if a historical fiction book sends you off to internet-land to find out which bits are true, then it has worked. I should have taken more notice of the author’s note which explains that Sara de Vos is a fictional, composite character. But I didn’t and so, yes, there I was half-way through the book, searching high and low for the paintings that are described in the text, trying to find out more about Sara de Vos, only to find myself directed back to publicity for Dominic Smith’s book. So, to save you the search, Sara de Vos is a 17th century fictional character and the paintings described don’t exist, although there are similarities with the few details known about Sara van Baalbergen. Like the Sara de Vos of this book, she was admitted to the the Haarlem Guild of St. Luke and married a fellow painter. None of her works have survived.

SPOILER ALERT

But in Dominic Smith’s book, three of Sara de Vos’ paintings still exist- but which ones? The book opens in New York in November 1957, as a painting by Sara de Vos is stolen from the luxurious apartment of wealthy Marty de Groot, plucked from the wall above the marital bed. It ends up in the lands of Australian art historian, Ellie who is studying de Vos, freelancing in art restoration as a sideline activity. Her rather dodgy associate, Gabriel, asks her to make a copy of it. She asks no questions about where it comes from or to whom it belongs: she doesn’t want to know. It’s an opportunity to really study a de Vos painting close-up but it’s a decision that she regrets for the rest of her life, especially as her career blossoms and she becomes a noted academic and curator of Dutch Golden Age paintings. After assuming that the copy (i.e. forgery) has been resolved through her own contact- and more- with de Groot, it seems that her indiscretion of some forty years earlier is about to bring her undone as what she fears is two copies of the same painting are heading towards Australia, for an exhibition that she is curating at the Art Gallery of New South Wales.

So what was this painting, source of both desire, possession and trepidation? It was At the Edge of the Wood, thought to be painted by Sara de Vos in 1636, depicting a young girl standing against a silver birch, watching skaters on a frozen river as the sun sets. Through the flashbacks to the 1630s that are interwoven through the book, we learn that it was painted surreptitiously by Sara de Vos, who although admitted to the Guild of St Luke- something almost unheard of for a woman- was expected to paint still life pictures within a domestic setting. She and her husband Barent had been expelled from the Guild for painting unsigned landscapes outside of the Guild strictures and her life is falling apart. She is still grieving the loss of her seven year old daughter, and deeply in debt, Barent has deserted her, leaving her to make her own way.

The book, then, has three intersecting strands: Sara’s story in 17th century Netherlands; Ellie’s life in 1950s Europe and ill-advised venture into forgery and later interaction with the rightful owner Marty de Groot, and 2000 in Sydney when three de Vos paintings are heading to upend Ellie’s career. In places it reads like a mystery, and historical fiction, in other places a critique of the art scene and collecting practices, and an exploration of grief and regret. He writes exceptionally well of Ellie as an awkward, young and inexperienced girl far from home, embarrassed by her virginity and alternately attracted to and repelled by an older man who is interested in her for his own purposes. He does conversation well, and his descriptions of paintings are so crisp that you think that you might have seen them once- even though, of course, you couldn’t have. At times his description of painting and forgery techniques drag a little, but they do pay testament to the research that he has undertaken as part of writing this book.

And what was Sara de Vos’ last painting? Ah well, you’ll have to read the book…

My rating:8/10

Read because: Book Group selection, sourced from Yarra Plenty Library Book Groups collection.

‘And the Women Watch and Wait’ by Catherine Meyrick

2025, 435 p.

Especially in the wake of the centenary of WWI, there has been no shortage of books about men’s experience in war. They’re usually big fat books, often named for a battleground in large letters, with the (male) author’s name is letters much the same size. Women’s experience- especially the experience of women who didn’t go to war but instead stayed home waiting- is less often documented. And the Women Watch and Wait is based in suburban Coburg in Melbourne, and it captures well the dissonance between suburban life and battlefields far away, the agony of curtailed and delayed communication, and the emotional peril of allowing yourself to fall in love.

Kate is a young country girl who has been sent down to Coburg as company for her Aunt Mary, whose two sons have volunteered and been sent overseas as part of the first contingent of soldiers to be deployed. As well as the excitement of staying in Melbourne, Kate is excited that her boyfriend from Gippsland, Jack, has been sent to the nearby Broadmeadows Training Camp, and there are more opportunities for them to meet up before he leaves than there would have been had she still been in Gippsland. Time is rushing on, as the rumours of the trainees’ departure mount, and she is excited when Jack proposes to her. At this stage, there is still hope that ‘the boys’ will be back by Christmas, and there seems such pressure of time to commit, to get married and start up a married life. Jack leaves with his detachment, and Kate is left with her aunt, working in her aunt’s grocer shop, teetering between excitement to receive mail, and yet fearing what news the mail might bring. News does arrive, and she, along with the women among whom she is living, has to readjust her hopes for the future.

I’m probably a particularly critical audience for this book, because as it happens I’ve been writing a column for the newsletter of my local historical society for the past ten years or so that looks at events at the local Heidelberg level one hundred years previously. Just as Catherine Meyrick would have done in researching this book, I’ve followed the local newspapers closely, consciously looking for women’s experiences, reading every page and even the advertisements and classifieds. This has given me a close-up knowledge of one suburb, (albeit a few suburbs away from Coburg) and how the world-wide events of WWI impacted the social and political life of a community. I must say that she has nailed the local aspects, and I found myself nodding away to parallels that arose in her book which also occurred in Heidelberg.

The book is arranged chronologically by year, starting in 1914 and going through to 1919 with an epilogue. It has over sixty short chapters- too many, I feel- and the frequent changes of location made it feel a little like a screenplay. She integrates political events of the day, like the conscription debates, into her narrative and, again, she captures this big event playing out in small halls and conversations so well. I particularly liked that she explored the WWI experience from the Catholic viewpoint, something that is not represented well in the local newspapers that I have read.

It’s a difficult thing to undertake huge amounts of research, then to let it go in case it smothers the narrative (an advantage that historians have over novelists). At times I felt that small local details were made too explicit, but I’m also conscious that I may have read this book differently to the way that other people might read it. At an emotional level, the book rang true with love, fear, vulnerability and strength being lived out not in trenches but in suburban houses and streetscapes.

My rating: 7/10

Sourced from: purchased e-book. Check https://books2read.com/AndtheWomenWatchandWait/ for availability

Read because: I noticed that the author had linked to several of my posts.

Real Attention Challenge Days 10 and 11

Well, both these days were a bit ho-hum. Day 10 Looking Deeply into your Food involved eating mindfully, contemplating a small piece of food in its color, shape, texture, light, and shadow, then imagining its history: the dirt, the crops, the hands that harvested it. Well, I chose a white peach, which had a very strong peachy smell, very juicy and no doubt had a completely industrialized history as it came from a supermarket.

Day 11 Alone with Others involved going somewhere in public, sitting comfortably and watching people come and go, paying special attention to how your sense of self changes in the presence of complete strangers. I actually do this often. Sometimes I get involved (at a distance) from their situation- eavesdropping on their conversations, trying to work out where they’re going and who the people around them are- but other times I observe them as if I’m going to write about them, formulating my descriptions of them in my head. To be honest, I am a rather nosy person, although I rationalize it as being ‘interested’.

Real Attention Challenge Days 8 and 9

Day 8 was quite easy. Called ‘Practising Stoicism’, this challenge involved offer a sincere compliment or expression of gratitude—to a coworker, a barista, or a stranger on the sidewalk. Stoicism has a reputation of being dour but there’s also the aspect of making other people’s lives better. I didn’t find it hard to offer a compliment to a fellow volunteer at the historical society: I did it first, then thought- “hey, I can use that for my challenge”. She seemed rather pleased at the compliment, and I felt pretty good about it too. I actually do try to compliment people just as a matter of course.

Day 9: Adventurous Listening required taking a walk in your neighborhood and choosing 5 sounds that capture the energy of where you live. I walk down to the museum every Monday anyway, through a long narrow park that was previously a golf course. The five sounds I heard were quintessentially Rosanna Parklands: 1. the loudspeaker from the Monday morning assembly at Rosanna Golf Links Primary School. In fact, there may have even been competing assemblies, because I think I heard the assembly at Rosanna Primary School as well, on the other side of the railway line. 2. A train going past. One of the things I love most about where I live is the easy accessibility of the train. 3. The crunch of gravel as people walked towards or past me. Rosanna Parklands always has people walking there, any time of day. It’s a very popular park. 4. Magpies. Being a decommissioned golf course, there are large expanses of open space which the magpies just love. Such an Australian sound. 5 The radio blaring from a builder’s ute. Because blocks are fairly large here, there is lots of redevelopment going on. For some reason, tradies HAVE to have the radio full volume to regale neighbours and passers-by with Bloke Radio.

I was listening for the sounds which best exemplified the park, and there was no surprise in any of them: I could hear each of them any Monday morning. However, sustained listening for quintessential sounds did make the walk seem faster.

Actually, I took this photo last November before the heat and lack of rain turned everything to brown. And I have no idea why there is no-one there.

More challenges

Well, not only have I fallen behind with my Waking Up Challenges, but I’ve fallen behind in writing about them as well.

Day 5’s challenge was to sit it somewhere for five minutes and write down exactly what I saw,—objects, movement, colors, textures, light- then to write about what emotions or expectations might be influencing what I saw, and how. Well, I sat at my desk, the same desk that I’m typing this at. I have slimline venetian blinds, and so the light was being sliced up horizontally. What I could mostly see was mess: printoffs of music, little notes to myself, piles of folders, books I’ve read and haven’t decided what to do with. Around me, more piles of books and an assortment of ukuleles. My feelings about them all? Obligation and “I should”s. The one thing that made me smile was looking at my desk calendar which I had printed off with photographs of my grandchildren. Listening to the reflection that accompanied this challenge, I must be a person who sees through a glass darkly (which is not, I must admit, how I perceive myself). Or perhaps I should just clean up this desk (another should).

I skipped Day 6 but it looks interesting, and I might come back to that one.

Day 7 was called ‘Leveraging Boredom’ and the challenge was not to use my phone FOR A WHOLE DAY. Well, I soon decided that I couldn’t possibly do that, but what I could do was to not go onto social media, no Wordle, no Google, no Solitaire, You Tube or The Guardian website for a day. It was disturbingly difficult but I’ve been hating how much time I waste each day, especially at night when I get tired. So, instead of scrolling, I finished reading a book I’ve been enjoying and felt much better for doing so. Instead of watching TV and playing Solitaire at the same time, I actually watched the Foreign Correspondent episode I was watching.

Leaning Into Relationships

The challenge for Day 4 was:

Reach out to someone you haven’t spoken to in a while. Your message needn’t be long or detailed, but make it sincere: “You crossed my mind today, and I’d love to reconnect.”

Or, if you have some extra time and know the person’s address, consider sending a handwritten note.

Well, this all felt a bit cheesy to me, although that might be a bit defensive because I am certainly not good at keeping connections going. I often think of people, but I just don’t take that last step. So I rang my former sister-in-law and had a chat with her. I don’t think I properly entered into the spirit of this one.

Does it matter?

Day 3 of my Real Attention Challenge. Today I had to do one task about 80% as well as I otherwise would, and let that be good enough. Huh!

This is my bed. I loathe doonas: give me blankets any day. And don’t get me started on the absence of a top sheet in hotels. Layers, people, layers.

Anyway, we make the bed every morning: sheets (bottom and top), two blankets and a doona in a doona cover more for appearance than anything else. I tuck my blankets in, but Steve doesn’t. Worse still, you can see the blankets hanging out of the side of the bed reflected in the mirror because there’s never enough doona on his side. So every morning I spend a little while walking around the bed, making sure that the doona is even on both sides and tucking in any errant blankets on Steve’s side. I smooth out the wrinkles from the doona, and all is right with the world.

Did it matter? You bet it did. Every time I walked into the bedroom, I’d see the blankets hanging out of the side of the bed and it took every bit of self-control not to run round there, tuck them in and straighten up the doona. It put me in a bad mood for the whole day.

Then just to add insult to injury, I listened to the short reflection that went with this activity, where a man with a smooth voice rationalized his failure to wake up on time on a Saturday morning and get his kid out out of bed to go to kick-boxing by saying that it didn’t REALLY matter. Yes it did! You’re the father- show some responsibility! And if that kick-boxing instructor was a volunteer, that’s a million times worse. That’s the deal: you get your kid here on time, and I’ll teach him.

Does it matter? Yes.

Grrr. I don’t think this challenge is very good for me.

Looking the wrong way

Day 2 of the Real Attention Challenge was to go on a short walk and to choose to focus on one thing only, instead of sweeping your gaze around.

Well the walk part was easy because on Mondays I always walk to the museum in Heidelberg through the Rosanna Parklands. It was quite breezy this morning, so I decided to focus on the shadows from the trees.

I noticed the shadows of the leaves moving, as if they were dancing, and the thick density of the shadows thrown by the tree trunks. I did get a bit distracted by all the dogs running up to me, and I had to consciously fix my gaze on the ground when I passed people, instead of greeting them as I normally would. I felt a bit anti-social and I hope I didn’t pass anyone I know!