I hear with my little ear: Podcasts 24-31 July 2024

I am so behind in posting about my listening! Not that anyone really cares, but I like to keep a record of what I’ve listened to so that I can go back and find things if I need them.

Sudan: All the news is full of Gaza and Ukraine, but I’ve been aware of Sudan bubbling away in the corner. I did listen to a few podcasts about Sudan last year, but I decided to catch up. Sudan’s Forgotten War (23 April 2024) takes up the most recent news. The long history of the Sudan conflict is that when Sudan achieved independence in 1956, the government was composed of northern and eastern elites and the military. This caused huge resentment elsewhere, and so the government turned to the Arab Janjaweed militia to suppress rebellion by amalgamating the army with Hemedti’s forces to become the Rapid Support Forces (RSF). But when Omar Al-Bashir was toppled as part of the washup from the Arab Spring, the military (SAF) would not cede power and the partnership between the armed forces and the RSF collapsed in 2023. Outside forces are involved: the RSF gets support from the United Arab Republic in troops and gold. The Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) gain support from Egypt, Saudi Arabia and perhaps Iran, as part of a long game. We are currently at a stalemate, with neither side able to defeat the other, and no wish for peace. There is no clear David and Goliath- instead it is a falling out between two powerful militarized bodies. There is no single front line, and neither side will allow humanitarian aid to get through.

I followed this with Nesrine Malik’s ‘All that we had is gone’: my lament for war-torn Khartoum’ which was nominated for a 2024 European Press Prize and you can read it here . It was actually from 2023, and it captures the grief that followed the conflict that came to Khartoum, which had previously been fairly immune from violence. It’s a beautiful piece of work.

The Global Story (BBC) The Most Contested Land in World? Admittedly, I did listen to this in the middle of the night, but it’s one of the best podcasts I’ve heard about ‘from the river to the sea’, and the multiple meanings that it holds for both Israelis and Palestinians. BBC Current Affairs journalist Tin Whewell talks about his journey from the River Jordan to the Meditteranean Sea- such a small piece of land and so much bloodshed. Actually, I think there’s a two-parter on BBC Assignment about the trip itself. I might listen to them as well.

Background Briefing. Notorious 8 My Friend the Cop Killer. I heard some of this while I was in the car, so I listened to the rest on podcast. It’s the background story of Nathaniel Train, one of the three Wieambilla conspiracy-theorists who killed two policemen and their neighbour. It’s presented by a journalist who was a schoolmate of Nathaniel, and it goes through the family rift between Gavin and Nathaniel and their parents, and the COVID vaccine mandate that seemed to have pushed them over the edge. But really, it’s pretty tabloid and sensationalist, and not really worth of Background Briefing.

History Hit Harris vs Trump: How We Got Here. As the name suggests, History Hit usually deals with things that have already happened, but in this case Dan Snow is inviting his guest, Ben Rhodes, (a Former Deputy National Security Advisor for Obama and host of Pod Save the World,) to take a first draft of history about the Harris vs. Trump election. Rhodes points out that the ‘strongman’ is a part of a global trend of backlash to globalization: someone who will tell you who you are and who to blame. He regrets that perhaps Barack Obama should have been a bit more of a strong-man. Presidents need to narrate what is happening, and Joe Biden didn’t do that. He suggests that the US looking for its identity, and that now the enemy is each other.

‘A Complicated Kindness’ by Miriam Toews

2004, 256 p

This is a strange book in that, by the end of it, you have experienced a nuanced and sad story and yet the first-person narrator didn’t actually tell you. The narrator in this case is sixteen-year-old Nomi Nickel, who lives in East Town, a small Mennonite town in Manitoba. On the first page she tells us that both her mother and her sister have disappeared, and that she is living with her father, Ray, who is engulfed by grief at the loss of his wife. The Mennonite church and her uncle Hans, whom she nicknames ‘The Mouth’ are dominant in the town, with the school, the local doctor and the school counsellor all members of the church. Nomi and her generation are the first Mennonite cohort to grow up with English as their first language: her parents and their generation continue to speak in low German. The community world view is shaped by their heritage, and the story of Menno Simons who formed his group out of the Anabaptists during the sixteenth century, leading to waves of emigration out of Europe to countries more accepting of their religion. East Town is a tourist attraction to American and Canadian travellers, and the Mennonite community plays along with its ‘living’ Heritage museum. Yet despite the town’s apparent devoutness, the teenagers in East Town are unruly and out of control, with alcohol, drug use and premarital and underage sex all rampant. Nomi is too, just like her older sister Tash was, and her father Ray is powerless to rein her in.

At first I thought that this was going to be a mystery: what did happen to Nomi’s mother Trudie, who left suddenly and taking nothing with her? It is only gradually that we learn the back-story of Nomi’s family, with her sister Tash’s rejection by the church and her father once she escapes the community with her boyfriend. We see Nomi embark on a similar trajectory, with her father making a surprising sacrifice at the end which leaves options open for Nomi to chart her own course.

The structure of the book is intriguing. It is only at the end that we realize that the narrative is a school assignment, written for her cantankerous English teacher Mr Quiring, with whom she clashes frequently. We gradually learn that Mr Quiring has had more of an effect on Nomi’s family situation than she realizes.

I chose this book for our bookgroup read, but it wasn’t actually the book I meant to choose! I had intended to suggest Women Talking, also by Miriam Toews, but we enjoyed this book nonetheless.

My rating: 8/10

Read because: CAE bookgroup selection.

I hear with my little ear: Podcasts 16-23 July 2024

The Rest is History Lord Byron: Scandal, Sex and Celebrity Part 2 Byron’s first big hit was “Childe Harolde’s Pilgrimage” which is in effect an autobiographical account of his travels during the Napoleonic War in Europe. He had first proposed writing a research project called “Sodomy Simplified” but he was talked out of it- good advice, I reckon. He escaped into the gay underworld, and sailed to Greece which was then under Turkish occupation, then on to Albania where he was fascinated by Ali Pasha. He saw himself as a future saviour of Athens, where Elgin was busy collecting his marbles. At the time, Athens was in ruins, and only 10,000 people lived there. Elgin’s plan at first was to make casts of the sculptures in order to conserve them, but once he’d had the scaffolding built etc, he decided to take them. No one objected. It took Elgin 10 years to remove them, and Byron’s friend Hobhouse saw it as an act of rescue. Byron, however, was outraged and mocked Elgin – he’d be horrified to think that they were still in the British Museum today! He finally returned home to England at the age of 23. His mother and several friends had died in the meantime, and he was restless.

Emperors of Rome. I haven’t listened to this for ages. I’m never going to catch up on all the episodes I’ve missed, so I’ll just catch their most recent series of podcasts on the Catiline conspiracy. It seems an apposite time to think about conspiracies, because our world is full of them today. Episode CCXX: A Disordered Mind, the Catiline Conspiracy I starts by pointing out that our sources for the Catiline Conspiracy mainly spring from the pen of Cicero, his enemy and Sallust who wrote twenty years after the event. Catiline was from a very patrician and aristocratic family, but they weren’t particularly wealthy. He had grown up during the Social Wars and the Sulla/Marius civil war, and there are suggestions that he and his family benefitted from the property confiscations that took part as part of these. But that wasn’t the worst thing he was accused of: instead there were a string of putative murders of two brothers-in-law and his son, accusations of incest with the daughter of his mistress, marrying for looks instead of money and having sex with a vestal virgin. In the end, the only one he faced court for was on a charge of extortion, and he bribed his way out of it. It’s interesting though- in 65BC Cicero actually contemplated being on his defence team, so even though he ended up Catiline’s sworn enemy, it wasn’t black and white at the time.

Rear Vision (ABC) U.S. Presidential Elections: Are They Democratic? This was actually broadcast on 4 February 2024, but it seemed to be pretty relevant at the moment, too. The Electoral College, devised in 1787 was intended to replicate Congress in terms of state representation, as a way of getting all the states on board. ( I’ve never heard it mentioned, but ‘colleges’ were in use in British Guiana in the early 1800s as well, drawing on a Dutch model, even though British Guiana was by then a British colony.) The Electoral College in US was not democratic, because it could over-ride the elections of its representatives if they were deemed unsuitable. In the 1960s there were calls for more representation, so conventions and caucuses became more important. Caucuses are party-controlled events, but the Constitution did not foresee the involvement of parties at all. The primaries are run by the parties in conjunction with the state government, and delegates are only bound in the first round of voting. You can see where Trump was getting his wriggle-room last election- and scope for him to do the same thing again.

I hear with my little ear: Podcasts 8-15 July 2024

The Rest is History Lord Byron: Mad, Bad and Dangerous to Know (Part 1) I don’t think I’ve read any Byron at all but I know who he is. It’s the 200th anniversary of his death this year. He was the first international celebrity- when he died in Greece during the War of Independence, they rather facetiously liken him to the idea of Taylor Swift dying in Ukraine. He had an influence on later writers: the Brontes (Heathcliff, Rochester), vampires, Dorian Grey. Byron himself had a club foot (talipes). He was born to a mother who had married for the second time, and his step-father went through all the family money, and even though he inherited a castle at the age of 10, it was a ruin. He was brought up by his Calvinistic nursemaid, who sexually abused him (so much for the Calvinism). He was sent to Harrow where he was bullied, then he went to Cambridge. Then he lost weight and became handsome. He was attracted to boys rather than men, and is often the way, became aggressively heterosexual when he left Cambridge. As a lord, he was entitled to sit in the House of Lords. He had Whig sympathies but did not align himself with them, and so he delayed giving his maiden speech and was politically inactive. Impatient with such passivity, he decided to travel to the East.

99% Invisible Fact-Checking the Supreme Court An anti-gun group Moms Demand Action found that when the Supreme Court had knocked back a concealed-carry law because there was no pre-1900 precedent, there was in fact an 1892 precedent, in amongst the archives of a small Orange County courthouse. Their archival detective work didn’t change anything, but it does raise the question: who fact-checks the Supreme Court? This episode goes through the changes in legal thinking from Oliver Wendell Holmes who encouraged judges to draw on their experience; to Louis Brandeis who introduced the idea of facts, through to legal realism and the rise of the ‘amicus brief’. The current Supreme Court of America is wedded to the idea of “history and tradition” (which they seem to have thrown out the window when considering Presidential immunity) but what if the history and tradition is wrong? Really interesting.

‘A Very Secret Trade’ by Cassandra Pybus

2024, 336 p.

If too many Australians thought that The Voice was too hard, then Truth Telling is going to be even harder. Cassandra Pybus’ book A Very Secret Trade: The Dark Story of Gentlemen Collectors in Tasmania confronts the clandestine trade in Tasmanian indigenous remains head-on: something we’ve all long known about but somehow tucked away back of mind. In a way, we’ve been softened up for the truths in this book by Marc Fennell’s podcast and TV series ‘Things the British Stole’. But in this book, the blame is not easily sheeted off to ‘the British’. Certainly, the governors and many of the civil servants in Van Diemen’s Land in the 1840s and ’50s were sojourners, returning back ‘home’ to England once they had attained their long-sought pensions. But collecting institutions like museums and universities were founded here as permanent institutions, and they need to own their histories of acquisition, obfuscation and refusal.

It was Zoe Laidlaw’s early book Colonial Connections 1815-45: patronage, the information revolution and colonial government (2005) that first opened my eyes to the connection between patronage, colonial careers and collecting. It underpinned the webs of influence that stretched from wealthy gentlemen collectors back in Britain, who could pull their parliamentary and civil service strings, across the ocean to civil servants in the colonies on a couple of hundred pounds a year. Once here, those local civil servants could pull on their own (rather more threadbare) strings to source animal and human remains which could be forwarded back ‘home’ to keep the connection strong. The gentlemen patrons back ‘home’ competed amongst themselves over the size of their personal collections and the prestige of the institutions with which they associated themselves, so there was always a market for curiosities, and especially those curiosities which were perceived to be on the road to extinction.

I hadn’t realized, though, that once the local functionary was in the colonies, he (and it was almost always ‘he’) deliberately petitioned and importuned for postings that made it possible to source such objects for his patrons. Pybus introduces us to doctors and surgeons (many of them), constables, merchants, Superintendents and magistrates, surveyors and artists, clergymen and librarians who were part of this network. Most disturbingly, some of them – especially those charged with the ‘care’ of this ‘dying’ race- deliberately maneuvered their positions so that they were untrammeled in finding, digging up and shipping human remains. And so many remains, often innocuously labeled as ‘specimens’ flowed across the ocean into private and institutional collections.

As a historian, Pybus has to work with silences and euphemisms. Clearly all these people realized the sensitivities of the indigenous people over the treatment of their people after their death, and so no-one actually wrote definitively about what they were doing. Many of the disinterments took place in isolated places or under the veil of darkness, and permission was neither given nor sought. Thus, the documentary record from the Tasmanian end is largely silent but at the receiving end, accession files, private correspondence and wills reveal the flood of ‘objects’ that made their way across to British and European patrons and institutions. They were being shipped overseas at scale, under the anodyne label of ‘specimens’.

Both through her own personal connection, and in keeping with her earlier book Truganini (my review here), Pybus focusses particularly on the islands north and east of Tasmania and the nearby mainland coastal areas, and the remaining people of the different nations on Van Diemen’s Land who were shipped between Wybalenna (Flinders Island) and Oyster Cove. They are so few that they can be named, and she does so in her Appendix 2. I’ve read quite a bit about George Augustus Robinson, the ‘Protector’ but I was unaware of his upwards change of fortunes once he returned ‘home’, where a lucrative marriage gave him all the property and status that he ever yearned for. He barely needed the dozen or so skulls that he carried in his luggage home, sourced from the First People who died under his ‘care’ at Wybalenna.

Lady Jane Franklin, too, is cast in a different light by her cultivation of collectors in her circle of friends, particularly young and handsome ones. Her expeditions across rugged terrain take on a new meaning when you realize the collecting intentions of the gentlemen accompanying her. The sheer number of surgeons and doctors in Pybus’ Appendix 1 of ‘The Worshipful Society of Body-Snatchers’ is chilling.

Pybus closes her book with Truganini, the so-called “last Tasmanian Aborigine” who, in floods of tears, had begged a minister whom she trusted that when she died, her body be burnt and the ashes thrown into the deepest part of the D’Entrecasteaux Channel. It took a hundred years for her wishes to be complied with. Copies and casts of her articulated skeleton were on display until 1969, and may even still be on display somewhere in the world as part of the inter-museum trade in objects. The push-back to the idea of repatriation and burial from the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery is instructive, as they garnered support from various professors of Anthropology and Anatomy, all of whom agreed that it would be a crime against humanity to comply with her wishes, even though Truganini’s remains had barely been properly studied at all in the 100 years of institutional custodianship.

This is a very personal book for Pybus too. It is beautifully written, and her use of ‘I’ is measured but always warranted. She grew up overlooking the D’Entrecasteux Channel, and although oblivious to it as a child, gradually came to understand her forebears’ connection with Oyster Cove. She had always thought of them as altruistic, but as she came to realize the web of patronage and obligation that touched her family too, she began to question this. I’m reminded of David Marr’s stance on ancestral guilt (see here) but I think that Pybus – who shares their name in a way that David Marr does not with the ancestors he writes about- cannot distance herself so easily. Her love of Tasmania, and especially the eastern coast bursts through her beautiful descriptions, and her own sense of country gives her an added feeling of indebtedness and complicity in the dispossession of the First People who were there before her. She had resisted for many years the ‘thorny’ word “genocide” but admits that “after years of research into the hidden corners of the history of my beautiful island home, I find the fact of it inescapable.” (p. 256) The rapid commodification of the remains of indigenous people, the ransacking of burial grounds, and the trade to collectors and museums world-wide with the added marketing-edge of “last of” and “extinct” certainly makes the word hard to avoid.

My rating: 9/10

Sourced from: Yarra Plenty Regional Library

I hear with my little ear: Podcasts 1-7 July 2024

Dan Snow’s History Hit In The Opium Wars Episode 2 Dr Jeremiah Jenne, a professor of Late Imperial and Modern China, and Dan follow up on the other opium wars that followed the Treaty of Nanking. In 1856 the Chinese seized ‘The Arrow’, a ship under a British flag (although this is disputed) which led on to the Second Opium War. This time the French joined in, and once again the British won, leading to the Treaty of Aigun which forced China to legalize opium and open up to missionaries and foreign traders. This was at an anxious time for Britain: the Indian mutiny was under way, America was heading towards Civil War and Russia was circling. The emperor refused to sign the treaty, so in 1860 the British and French returned, this time looting the Imperial Summer Palace and punishing the emperor. This was in effect the end of the 19th century opium trade, which was finally ended in 1907. The wars might have been over, but they formed the bedrock of Communist Party historical narrative right up to today, pointing to a century of humiliation which only now has been overcome.

The Rest is History Luther: The World Torn Apart (Part V) Luther had lit the fire, and now it was out of control. The Peasant Wars took on Luther’s strategy of appealing to the Bible, and more zealous preachers than Luther banned music, the mass, etc. The one man who could have quashed it all, Charles V, was distracted by political events elsewhere, as the culture wars turned into massacres. Luther, leaving behind his monk’s vows, married a former nun and tried to distance himself from the violence. He owed everything to the Elector of Saxony, and he could not be part of this bloodshed, even if he had wanted to. The Reformation that he had invoked spawned atheism, secularism and individualism. What if he had never lived: would there still have been a Reformation? Tom thinks that, in this case, Luther himself did make a difference.

You’re Dead to Me (BBC) Emma of Normanby. Never heard of her, but she was actually the wife of two kings (Aethelred and Cnut – better known as Aethelred the Unready and King Canute) and mother to two more, Harthacnut and Edward the Confessor. She was of Scandinavian origin, and on her second marriage to Cnut she had to negotiate a lot of jostling for the crown between half-brothers. In the end, she got two of her sons to share the throne, although she always claimed that she was ruling too. An encomium written to bolster her position likened her to Augustus, and drew on Roman and Greek history to legitimize her influence. In the end, her son Edward the Confessor turned against her, accused her of treason and stripped her of her land, although he later relented and gave it back again. But from here on, she was sidelined by her son. Features Professor Elizabeth Tyler and comedian Jen Brister (haven’t heard of either of them)

I hear with my little ear: Podcasts 24-30 June 2024

Dan Snow’s History Hit has a two-part series on the Opium Wars, which remain an important part of the narrative of China’s current history because they exemplify a “century of humiliation” that current policies and actions are designed to compensate for. In Part one The British Empire, China and Opium Dan and Dr Jeremiah Jenne, a professor of Late Imperial and Modern China, delve into the history of the Opium trade in the British Empire, how it brought crisis to China and started a war that still impacts China’s relationship with the west today. As a major trading country with products that Europe wanted, China had maintained an aloofness and power in the trading relationship. But the Industrial Revolution and the Napoleonic Wars had led to the development of technology that eclipsed that of China, and in Europe there had been a change in attitudes towards trade itself in the 1830s and 1840s, now seeing trade as a matter of opening markets, rather than just gaining access to goods. By 1800 10-12 million Chinese people were addicted to opium, even though it was illegal. Opium smugglers wanted silver, rather than tea. The emperor sought different opinions about how to deal with the opium problem, and heard opinions that very much echo the current debate over vapes:- should they legalize, tax, or punish the trade? Viceroy of Huguang Lin Zexu was charged with enforces penalties against traders, forcing them to hand over their opium which he then publicly burned. Eliot, the British agent, ordered limited retaliation but mission creep ensued, eventuating in the Treaty of Nanking which opened up treaty ports and put Hong Kong in British hands.

The Rest is History. Luther: Showdown with the Emperor (Part 4) Martin Luther was summoned to the imperial free city of Worms by the Holy Roman Emperor, Charles V, to defend his radical beliefs. He arrived with crowds of followers. Charles V issued an edict condemning him as a heretic, but part of the arrangement for him travelling to Worms was that he was guaranteed safe passage there and back. Luther’s protector Ferdinand was starting to distance himself a bit from Luther, but he nonetheless arranged for Luther to ‘disappear’ into a castle while things calmed down. Meanwhile, Luther himself realized that he could no longer impose himself on the Reformation, and that things were moving beyond him. He began to backtrack on some of his pronouncements.

History Extra British General Elections: Everything You Wanted to Know The British elections were under way when I listened to this. The 1920s saw the emergency of the two-party system, although one of them- the Liberal party- was gone by 1931. The secret ballot changed the nature of elections (and they didn’t even mention Australia here!) and the suffrage was gradually extended (again, yeah for Australia even though they ignored the Australian example). Gladstone was the first of the mass, personality-based prime ministers, followed by Lloyd George and Churchill, although you could really only saw that Wilson’s leadership was a decisive factor in the result. The 1950s and 1960s saw the growth of opinion polls and focus groups. Britain has first-past-the-post voting.

Six Degrees of Separation: From ‘The Museum of Modern Love’ to…

When I first saw the starting book for the August Six Degrees of Separation at Booksaremyfavouriteandbest’s page, I thought “At last! A starting book that I have actually read!” The idea of this meme is that Kate suggests a starting book, then you let your ideas bounce to six other books related (however tangentially) to the starting book.

But then, when I went back to check, I haven’t read The Museum of Modern Love at all. I got mixed up between that and my nearby art gallery, Heide, which is a Museum of Modern Art.

So my confusion gives me my starting book: The Strays by Emily Bitto (my review here), a fictional book which took its inspiration from John and Sunday’s life at Heide, which attracted modernist artists including Albert Tucker, Max Harris, Sidney Nolan, Barrett Reid, John Percival, the Boyds and Joy Hester to live communally in their farmhouse.

Although I read it long before I started this blog, I enjoyed Dear Sun, which was a collection of letters between Joy Hester and her friend and wealthy patron Sunday Reed from 1944 until Hester’s death in 1960. No fiction here: this is real life.

Speaking of artists, female artists Stella Bowen and Grace Cossington Smith feature in Drusilla Modjeska’s book Stravinsky’s Lunch, which I also read before I started my blog.

Artists need someone to sit for them, and Alex Miller explores this in his small book The Sitters. I wrote about it in my review “ostensibly it is a slight story about an elderly painter and a younger female sitter [but] the ghosts of his childhood are sitting, too. There are multiple sitters, not just one, and he is painting them present from their absence.” (My review is here)

Or how about a book where the narrator is not the artist, but the work itself? That’s what Angela O’Keeffe rather bravely attempts in her book Night Blue, about Jackson Pollock’s painting ‘Blue Poles’ although I’m not sure that she actually succeeded. (My review here)

The painting in Cairo by Chris Womersley might not be one of the characters, but it certainly plays a role in the plot. Picasso’s ‘Weeping Woman’, one of the jewels of the National Gallery of Victoria’s collection, was stolen in real life in 1986, and it turns up in Womersley’s book which I just loved (as you can see in my review here).

Well, with three of these books set within 15 km of my home in Melbourne, I don’t seem to have moved very far this time!

I hear with my little ear: Podcasts 16-23 June 2024

Dan Snow’s History Hit The Early Years of the British Empire Being brought up Australian, I tend to think of the British Empire as all that red on the maps of the world. But in its earliest days of empire, Britain (or rather, England) lagged behind the Spanish and Portuguese first of all, then the Dutch, then finally Britain at the rear. The episode features David Veevers, the author of The Great Defiance: How the World Took on the British Empire. At first, the British empire was the province of privateers, although there were connections with the crown as well. He emphasizes the fightback of the indigenous people, who kept the early colonists clinging to the coastline, unable to penetrate further and he reminds us that the East India Company was actually defeated. By the end of the 18th century, Britain had become better armed and was a stronger entity after the Act of Union. The accumulation of land was slow at first, but then continued apace.

The Rest is History: Luther: The Battle against Satan (Part 3) After questioning the idea that Luther nailed his 95 theses to the door of the cathedral, Tom and Dominic take up the story three years later, when he burns the Papal Bull in Wittenburg, precipitating a crisis. The Roman Church was asserting its authority, and Luther was defying the fundamental teaching of the church i.e. that sinners can pay for release from Purgatory. Moreover, the Ottomans were threatening Vienna at the same time. Printing had been around for 100 years, but Luther was a master of self-promotion and good at public events like book burning etc, which took place in the midst of parades of student floats and a carnivalesque atmosphere. The 95 theses were printed in German and Latin. The Holy Roman Empire was weak, with the aging Holy Roman Emperor expected to die soon, and the position of Luther’s protector Frederick of Saxony was very powerful because he would be electing the successor. Luther denied reason, philosophy and canon law- all the intellectual areas that the Church had branched into- and insisted that we go back to the Bible. Luther himself (did you know that his real name was Luder?) had his own ‘born again’ moment, and with all the bombast of the born-again, declared that others were not Christians because they had not done the personal work of believing. In October 1518 Luther was summoned to meet the Inquisitor Cardinal Thomas Cajetan in Augsberg. Ever the publicity hound, Luther walked there drawing crowds as he went. He and Cajetan had three meetings, but in the end Luther was released from his vows. Then followed a saturation-bombing of pamphlets written by Luther and on 3 January 1521 Luther was excommunicated by the new Holy Roman Emperor Charles V.

Mary Beard’s Being Roman (BBC) Episode 7: The Whistleblower takes us to Britain in 61CE and the repression of Boudicca’s revolt. Procurator (i.e. finance officer) Gaius Julius Classicianus is appalled by the harsh repression meted out by the local Governor. So he dobs on him, and advises the rebels to wait until a new Governor is sent out, and they might get bigger terms. Classicianus has a huge tomb in the British Museum

https://www.flickr.com/photos/antxoa/3459625349/

‘Birnam Wood’ by Eleanor Catton

2023, 423 p.

Silly me. Here I was assuming that this book, with a title referencing Macbeth, would be an updated telling of the Macbeth story – but any connections with Macbeth are rather tangential. You may remember that in Shakespeare’s Macbeth, he took comfort in his security as King from the prediction that “Macbeth shall never vanquished be until / Great Birnam Wood to high Dunsinane Hill / Shall come against him”. Assuring himself that trees could not move, he later realized the true meaning of the prediction when his enemy and his army advanced on Macbeth’s castle under the protection of the tree branches they carried, thus appearing to be a forest moving up the hill.

‘Birnham Wood’ was the name that a gardening co-operative adopted for themselves as they engaged in organic ‘guerilla gardening’ on unattended plots and spaces, living on the food grown as they squatted on disused sites, using water if it was available, carting their own if it was not. There’s elements of humour in Catton’s book, and this is one of them: in a world of terrorists and rogue militias, guerrilla gardening seems rather incongruous. [Having said that, the son of one of my distant relatives is a hard-core forager and dumpster-diver, and his parents have found it very difficult to cope with his subversion of all of their expectations for his career and future in his outright rejection of the capitalist economy.]

Acting as a collective, there are nonetheless power differentials between the members of Birnam Wood. The group was founded by 29 year old Mira Bunting who is approached by Robert Lemoine, a shadowy multi-millionaire attracted to New Zealand as part of the wave of ultra-rich Westerners looking for a bolt-hole in the event of nuclear war. His true intent is the surreptitious mining of rare-earth minerals in a remote national park, carried out under the cover of his pest-eradication drone company. He offers the Birnam Wood collective the opportunity to farm on his property and funding, and takes on the ‘conquest’ of Mira as a personal challenge. At the meeting of the collective to decide whether to accept Lemoine’s offer, Mira is confronted by Tony, with whom she had had a drunken sexual encounter before Tony left for overseas, four years earlier. He has now returned to the collective and rejects Lemoine’s offer as blood money. When his objection is voted down, he leaves, suspicious – correctly as it turns out- that there is more to Lemoine’s proposal to the group. The group meeting to decide the matter evoked brilliantly the interminable earnest university meetings I remember, overlaid with a 21st century patina of political correctness. In the meeting, Mira was backed up by her best friend Shelley, who was actually thinking of leaving the collective.

The book is quintessentially New Zealand, with its ‘pure’ image, green and fertile national parks, and propensity for earthquakes and landslips that has rendered the wider Christchurch area largely inaccessible after the main highway is cut. There is something slightly ‘woolly jumper’ about the collective which includes sincere and rather unworldly workers, inspired by ideas of conservation, ecology and rejection of capitalism.

Against this bucolic background, Robert Lemoine stands out as a 21st century James Bond villian/ Egon Musk type caricature. His sheer evilness is made more believable by his control over the electronic communications channels of mobile phone and internet and his surveillance of the members of the collective, which keeps him one step ahead of Mira, Shelley and Tony as they each think that they are acting autonomously, competing to come out on top in dealing with Lemoine.

The satire drops away and the book ramps up in the second half to become a page-turning, cat-and-mouse thriller, something I would have thought impossible in a story about an idealistic group of guerilla gardeners (of all things!). It’s to Catton’s credit that she’s able to carry this off at all. I won’t give away the ending, except to say that the ending probably had more to do with Macbeth than anything else in the book.

I read this book with the Ivanhoe Reading Circle as their June selection. Many of the members were disappointed with the ending: I was perhaps less critical, seeing any other possible ending as a cop-out, and spying a few loose ends that Catton may left dangling that could presage a different outcome.

Most of all with this book, I was so impressed with Catton’s ability to switch so skillfully into a completely different genre to that of the historical fiction The Luminaries, the only other Catton book that I have read. So many writers ‘stick to their lane’ after having a book as successful as The Luminaries was, but Catton has upended these expectations completely. It is a book that surprised with its completely modern setting and its morphing from a somewhat prickly social satire into a page-turning thriller. Eleanor Catton is completely in charge of her narrative, and has the flexibility of a very skilled writer with decades of writing ahead of her!

My rating: 8.5/10

Read because: Ivanhoe Reading Circle selection.