‘Where the Crawdads Sing’ by Delia Owens

2020, 384 p.

If I had been the person who identifies the genre in marketing a book, how would I have classified this book? It starts off with a murder, moves into a sensitive depiction of neglect and isolation, interweaves evocative descriptions of landscape and nature, shifts towards being a coming-of-age novel and ends up in a court case. It is like five books in one, and I’m undecided whether it is a skilful mish-mash of genres, or whether it is a genuine attempt to move beyond the murder/courtroom genre by providing a protagonist with nuance, depth and change over time.

The chronological narrative shuttles between a court case and the backstory starting back in the early 1950s, gradually moving forward until the two timelines converge in 1969 with the discovery of the body of footballer and small-town Lothario Chase Andrews in the swamp. Accusations mount against Kya, the ‘Marsh Girl’, who lives alone in a shack in the North Carolina swamp marshes. In 1951, her mother walked out one day in her crocodile-skin shoes, leaving her five children to their violent, drunken father. Gradually Kya’s siblings leave home, unable to cope with their father’s beatings and neglect. At the age of six, she is left to fend for herself as her father disappears on days-long benders until he, too, disappears leaving Kya as a ten-year-old to make her own way. Able to negotiate the inlets and tides of the swamp, she earns enough money from fishing to buy bare necessities, but she does not attend school and ekes out a precarious, lonely existence. She is very much a child of the marsh, attuned to the rhythm of the tides, the turning of the seasons and the wildlife that surrounds her. The people of Barkley Cove know that she is living there, and she is shunned as ‘swamp trash’ by the people of the town, but as she grows older, she attracts the attention of two boys – Tate Walker and Chase Andrews – both of whom show remarkable restraint (at least initially) with a young, feral, unprotected girl living on her wits. Tate teaches her to read, and opens up to her an avenue by which she can draw, and write about and study the natural world that teems around her. Wary and self-sufficient, she is slow to trust either man, and as a reader you feel the latent menace of them both. Betrayal comes, as you know it must, but in different ways. When Chase Andrews’ body is found near an abandoned fire tower in the swamp, it seems to justify many of the prejudices of the people of Barkley Cove.

Of this ‘five for the price of one’ volume, I liked the landscape writing most. Delia Owens has written non-fiction environmental writing before, and she does it well. Not for nothing has she been likened to Barbara Kingsolver. The swamp is depicted as a living, breathing, moving body, and Kya is closely attuned to its movements and changes. I thought that the author captured well the fear that Kya and her siblings felt in the face of her father’s rages and neglect, and the petty and oblivious cruelties played out on her by the people of Barkley Cove. So did the book need a murder as well? For me, Owens could have rested on these two themes alone.

But if Owens was determined to have a murder and court-case, then she did write it well, even though it marked an abrupt change in pace and intent. The court case sections reminded me a bit of To Kill a Mockingbird, with its small-town setting and the rejection of a Mayella Ewell-type character, albeit in very different circumstances. I found the book a real page-turner at this point. I often rail about being left at the end of a crime book wondering ‘So who did do it?’ but there was no danger of that with this book. I just don’t know if the whole murder and its aftermath was necessary.

The part was was least convincing to me – and it’s an important plot development – is Kya’s transformation from a feral, illiterate child into a writer/scientist, with published works under her belt, and sufficient experience of the world to want to purchase comforts to make her shack more habitable without changing the outward appearance. Kya the child is plausible: Kya the adult is less so.

And so, how do I assess this book? I admit to sharing Jonathan Franzen’s wariness of a book emblazoned with an ‘Oprah Book Club’ sticker, and knowing that this book was endorsed as part of Reese Witherspoon’s book club did not necessarily endear it to me. I hadn’t noticed Tic-Toc book reviews until I searched for this book. Certainly the book has achieved best-seller status. Was the murder and court-case added to appeal to a wider audience? Or is this a book that moved beyond the two-dimensionality of many crime/court novels, just as I have often craved for them to do? I felt as if I was being buffeted around by the different genres that the book drew upon, even though most of them were done well in their own right. Perhaps it was the amalgamation of different types of writing that disconcerted me, leaving me feeling stuffed with too much plot.

My rating….a difficult one. I’d have to rate a book highly that has me sitting up in bed until 1.30 a.m. to finish it. And yet, and yet…. let’s go for 7.5

Sourced from: purchased as an e-book

Read because: Ivanhoe Reading Circle suggestion.

I hear with my little ear: Podcasts 1-7 December 2021

Emperors of Rome. I’m really enjoying this Australian podcast, with the interplay between the presenters, Dr Rhiannon Evans (from my very own La Trobe University) and Matt Smith. So I’m five years behind- doesn’t matter. Episode LII Hadrian the Little Greek goes through Trajan’s search for a successor. His wife was pushing for Hadrian, but Trajan wasn’t completely won over and made sure that Hadrian went through the usual career path (military, governor etc). As usual, Dr Rhiannon Evans is very concerned with sources, noting that with Hadrian we actually have a biography (however biassed) to draw on. Episode LIII Rome Welcomes Hadrian sees him take over power, although he got off to a bad start by having four prominent senators assassinated. Not a good start. He pulls back troops from Parthia, which doesn’t go down well either. Episode LIV There and Back Again (An Emperor’s Tale) sees Hadrian taking the scenic route of about four years to tour his empire, planting cities and planning building projects. While withdrawing troops into defensible areas, he fortified the walls to the north (Hadrian’s Wall) and south (in Africa). These walls were part of the cultural declaration of Roman power, and they made a finite line on a map as well as keeping the Army busy as peacekeepers. He finally finished off the Temple of Olympian Zeus, 638 years after it was started. Did I mention that Hadrian really liked Greece?

Temple of Olympian Zeus- Wikimedia

Episode LV What Hadrian Loves Best looks at the three things he loved most. First, building big buildings. He built the Temple of Venus and Roma in Rome itself (thus bringing together his love of Greek and Roman ideas) on the last bit of land remaining from Nero’s Golden Palace, and he rebuilt the Pantheon for the third time (it had burnt down twice). He didn’t tend to put his own name on buildings. His second love- well, maybe- was his wife Vabia Sabina, although it didn’t seem to be a particularly happy marriage. His third love was his young lover Antinous, who died in controversial circumstances although no-one seems to think that Hadrian was behind it. Some say it was form of self-sacrifice. Anyway, how he died is not that important, but Hadrian’s action in deifying him afterwards is, especially as it was the first time that someone outside the imperial family was deified, and very quickly. Episode LVI May His Bones Rot deals with Hadrian’s treatment of Judea and Jerusalem. Titus had wrecked Jerusalem, and Trajan was struggling to put down a Judean Revolt. He had to deal decisively with Judea. He sacked it, rebuilt it as a Roman City, forbade Jews from entering it and banned circumcision. No wonder Simon Bar Kokhbar rose up as a messianic leader (something that the Christians weren’t keen on) and a guerilla fighter. It was a bloody 3.5 year war, even for the Romans, and the market was flooded with Jewish slaves. Just as with the Daicians, they were completely dispossessed, but the Jews managed to keep their culture intact. Episode LVII Little Soul, Little Wanderer, Little Charmer brings Hadrian’s life to a tetchy close. He executed Apollodoris, the architect (who had mocked Hadrian, long before he was emperor, as the designer of ‘pumpkins’, given his penchant for domes) as well as Fuscus and Servianas. He took a long time to die.

Then, because History of Rome podcast has moved onto Antoninus Pius, I thought I’d catch him on Emperors of Rome as Well. In Episode LXV Anoninus Pius they deal with him in one episode (think, twenty two years of power for one measly episode). Still, he only became emperor in 138CE as a means of keeping the empire safe until Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus came of age.

Things the British Stole (ABC) This episode The Headhunters discusses the trade in decapitated, dried, and tattooed Māori heads that has led to their presence in museums across the world. The British, prompted by Joseph Banks, were an insatiable market for these ‘curiosities’, which were often obtained by other Maori tribes and exchanged for weapons. Meanwhile Ta moko facial tattoos, once synonymous with Maori urban gangs, are now becoming popular again as a sign of cultural identity. As with Australian indigenous artefacts and human remains, there is now an indigenous-led movement to get the objects and remains repatriated home.

Boyer Lectures 2021 (ABC) Soul of the Age- Shakespeare’s Women Of course, women were not allowed to act on the stage in Shakespeare’s time, so all the parts written for women were done so with a male actor in mind. He goes through the different types of women in Shakespeare’s work- comedic characters, gender-bender confusions, women showing up the men in wisdom and empathy, women ‘unsexing’ themselves to become like men. He considers Cleopatra to be the best female Shakespearean character. It’s a shame he spoiled it by drawing an unduly long bow at the end of his talk to linking Shakespeare’s women to “issues of domestic violence, predatory male behaviour in the workplace, be it on the factory floor or in Parliament House. It forces us to confront the issues of equal pay, equal opportunity and redefining of male/female roles in our society.”

The History of Rome Podcast Episode 85- Antoninus the Dutiful. At least Hadrian had worked out the succession before he died, and Antoninus was embraced by the Senate as being a Senator’s Senator. This is generally seen as the “Golden Age” of the Roman Empire, because it was stable, although in many ways Antoninus just kicked the can further down the road. He was 51 years old when he came to power and lived and thus ruled for much longer than people thought he would. He was called Antoninus Pius either because he lobbied hard for Hadrian to be deified (because it reflected on his own legitimacy) OR because he stopped persecuting individual senators. Either way, he didn’t travel around like Hadrian did and was an Italian homebody. Despite skirmishes on the borders (e.g. he had to build a second wall further north in Scotland called the Antonine Wall), there was no big war and continuity was valued. In Episode 86 Wealth and Class, he draws breath at last to compare life in Second Century Rome with late republican Rome (he last did this in Episode 28, so it has been a while). There was real inequality, with the wealth of the emperors increasing with expansion. Society was divided between slaves, freedmen, and free citizens of every economic class. Despite the influx of Jewish slaves after Hadrian razed Jerusalem, there was a low birth rate among the slaves, and it was a sign of status that you could afford to manumit your slaves. Freedmen remained in a client relationship with their former owners. Free farming families were pushed to the cities by large slave-owning families, although many peasants stayed in their birth place. The poor urban masses were provided with grain and games, but the lower middle class had to scape by. Actually, it all sounds a bit grim really. Episode 87- Thinking and Feeling goes through the pretty soul-destroying education system in the Second Century, where fathers no longer educated their sons but instead outsourced it first to educated Greek slaves, and then to schools. At primary level both girls and boys were drilled in the 3Rs, while secondary school concentrated on grammar and then rhetoric. It was all so stultifying that no wonder they looked to philosophy and religion for meaning. The Romans had always been polytheistic, and now Eastern mystical religions were added to the mix. Christianity was one of these cults (and lots of American Christians are taking offence in Mike Duncan’s comments feed about Christianity being called a cult). Christianity was particularly problematic because it insisted on just one god, and attracted the underclass, who were the majority. Philosophy attracted the higher, leisured classes, in particular the Stoics (where reason overcame emotion) and the Epicureans (who believed that if something caused you pain, you should stop doing it). Both philosophies led to peaceful citizens, but they were derided at the time. Episode 88- A Day in the Life is about everyday life in Rome, which is more or less why I started listening to this podcast in the first place. A Roman day went from sunrise to sunset, because there was no street lighting and the streets were dangerous and full of delivery vans at night. So all that sitting around in the bath-house and lounging over a meal took place during the day. Episode 89 Provincial Matters takes us on a whirlwind tour of the Antonine empire, following Hadrian’s route previously. There were more or less 42 provinces, which were either Senatorial or Imperial Provinces (i.e. under the direct control of the emperor, with legions stationed there). I really enjoyed this, although it would have been better if I had the map (on his webpage) with me while I was listening.

‘The Rúin’ by Dervla McTiernan

2019, 400 p.

As the author explains in a preface, the word ‘rúin’ can be read in English, or it can be given its Irish meaning. In Irish, it means secret, but it is also a term of endearment. All three elements of the word come in to this debut novel by Irish lawyer Dervla McTiernan, now resident in Australia.

The first one section of the book is set in Galway in1993. Cormac Reilly, a young and inexperienced Garda (policeman) responds to a call to a derelict house, where he finds a mother dead in bed, and two silent, neglected children. The oldest child, 15 year old Maude, is protective of her five-year old brother, insisting that they both be taken to the police station.

Twenty years later, Detective Cormac Reilly is back in Galway, after climbing the promotional ladder in Dublin. He has moved to be with his partner, Emma, who is undertaking a research project based there. His deployment to the Mill Street station is treated with suspicion, and despite his long and successful experience, he is relegated to reviewing cold cases. He is largely side-lined from a new case where the discovery of Jack Blake’s body in the river is treated as a suicide. Jack’s partner, Aisling is devastated – and McTiernan captures this so well – and his sister refuses to believe that it is suicide. And Detective Reilly finds that the two cases are connected: Jack was that five-year old silent boy in the derelict house twenty years ago; his sister Maude is still fighting for her brother – this time rejecting the easy solution of ‘suicide’ that the police are pushing.

Like many detective/crime novels, this book combines the plot line, the personal home life of the detective protagonist, and the office politics of the police station. The book is told in chronological sections, stepping forward a few days at a time. The focus of the action switches between Aisling and Maude in their fight to get Jack’s case investigated more fully. Cormac reviews that early case from his older, more experienced perspective, following up on the cold cases that he has been assigned, and negotiating the resentment and duplicity of his fellow police officers.

There are a lot of characters here, and often found myself stopping to think “Hold on, who’s that again?”. I’m not particularly good with television crime programs either, which have many small characters who may or may not be associated with the plot line, and I found it even harder to keep track of when I didn’t have a clear visual picture of the characters in my head.

Crime is not one of my favourite genres, and I have mainly read it because it has been a book group selection (which is the case here too). Despite my frequent confusion, I was certainly drawn into the story and I liked the way that you were not left reading and re-reading, not quite sure what the ending was and who ‘dun’ it. I found myself thinking of Peter Temple and Garry Disher, two Australian crime authors whom I have read, and I think that I preferred the more layered treatment of characters that McTiernan provides. She’s not writing against a toxic masculinity, the violence is less bloody but more intimate (and disturbing) and there is a depth to the ‘victims’ – indeed, she doesn’t see them as such, but more as individuals in their own right who have been dragged into a mess not of their making. If I’m going to read another crime novel, I think I’d like it to be one of hers.

I have included this on the Australian Women Writers Challenge database

My rating: 7.5 maybe 8

Read because: CAE bookgroup.

Zooming history: Child Labour and Slavery

History Council of Victoria 25 November 2021

available online here: https://youtu.be/CPA_7m2XGEw

This seminar looked at the issue of child labour and slavery from three different perspectives, countries and time periods. Jane Lydon (University of Western Australia) spoke about the Swan River Colony, which commenced at much the same time (1829) as Caribbean slavery was coming under scrutiny in Britain. Swirling around the anti-slavery debates of the time was the trope that slavery and child labour in factory were analogous. In Swan River, land grants were made available on the basis of the number of people in the settler’s family, with wife and children of various ages being ‘worth’ a certain number of acres. The ongoing labour shortage in Western Australia meant that the most vulnerable children were targetted: child labour schemes and industrial schools were a source of young labourers, and indigenous children, especially girls, were taken into pastoral stations as domestic labour.

Claire Lowrie (University of Wollongong) took us to British colonies in the ‘Far East’ – Hong Kong, Singapore, Malaysia where the practice of Mui Tsai where young girls from impoverished Chinese families were taken far from their families and sold into a family to work as a servant. At the age of 18 they were either married off, became concubines, or went into prostitution. In 1878 the Po Leung Kuk (Society for the Protection of Women and Girls) was established in Hong Kong but it was only in the 1920s and 1930s that the League of Nations and the International Labour Organizations brought pressure to bear on Britain to bring an end to the practice.

Susie Protschky (Deakin University) used the photograph albums that Dutch soldiers were encouraged to create and send home to the Netherland from Indonesia during the Indonesian National Revolution (1945-9). Amongst these amateur photos could often be detected “Henkie”, the Dutch name given to young boys whose work as domestic servants around the barracks sometimes crossed the line to child soldier or army mascot. These photos were often taken to depict a form of domestic paternalism to their families back home.

A good final question to the panel went to the issue of agency (or lack thereof) amongst these children. Jane Lydon noted that Dr Shino Konishi is leading a project to develop an Indigenous Australian Dictionary of Biography, which will seek to recover many of these stories. Claire Lowrie observed that in many cases agency was limited, although building emotional connections, particularly with the woman of the house in the case of the Mui Tsai girls might bring some protection. Susie Protschky noted that the Indonesian boys could obtain food for their families from the Dutch, and that the practice of ‘swapping sides’ (which the Dutch saw as particularly dishonourable) was a way of maintaining agency.

An interesting panel, although unfortunately the sound quality was poor for Jane Lydon’s contribution. The perils of the webinar.

I hear with my little ear: Podcasts 24-30 November 2021

Wikimedia Commons

History of Rome Podcast Episode 81 The Greekling introduces us to Trajan’s younger cousin, Hadrian. He had been adopted by and brought up in Trajan’s house after his father died when Hadrian was 10. Even though Trajan didn’t push him forward as a successor, Trajan’s wife Pompeia Plotina was very ambitious for him and may have even manipulated the news of Trajan’s death to present his accession as a fait accompli. He was Governor of Syria when Trajan died, and he immediately ordered the withdrawal of troops from the recently acquired territory in the east- a very unpopular decision. But this ‘highly aggressive defence’ of the empire by withdrawing from contested and unruly territories marked his rein, and really annoyed the Senate who took pride in ‘Big Empire’. Episode 82 Hadrian’s Walls – The Romans had a god called Terminus, the god who protected boundary markers, and Hadrian today is best known for his boundaries- especially Hadrian’s wall (which was originally white-washed with a very different appearance to today) and also in North Africa, although in both cases the walls were as much for population control as anything else.. Hadrian’s reign started off with him putting down the Second Judean War, where the rather anti-semitic sources depict the Jews as being the main aggressors. After putting it down and securing Judea, he decided to reign in the Eastern boundaries and even made a settlement with the Parthians- a very unpopular policy given that the Empire had reached its widest extent under Trajan. He got off to a bad start with the senate with a string of assassinations of four ex-consuls who were accused of conspiracy against him, and the senators feared a second Domitian. However, he worked hard to appease the senate, and instituted popular acts like debt forgiveness and lots of games to win over the populace. Unlike Trajan, he micromanaged the provinces, spending a lot of his reign travelling around checking on his governors. Episode 83 May His Bones Be Crushed deals with Hadrian’s homosexuality. In many ways Hadrian was not a “roman” Roman. He loved Greek culture, he was Spanish, and he had a beard. Two things that were immediately dispensed with on his death were: 1 the amalgamation of the 17 provinces into just 4, making Rome just another province 2. The Pan-Hellenic League, a project to support the Greek city states coming together to make a powerful state. He fell in love with Antinous, a young boy (14?), who became his constant companion. But Antinous drowned in Egypt, and the grieving Hadrian deified him (which really annoyed the Senate) and started a cult of Antinous which almost rivalled the cult of Jesus. In 132 there was the second Jewish-Roman war led by Simon bar Kokhba, who claimed the independence of Judea. Hadrian crushed the revolt, in an act of cultural genocide, burning the Torah, banning circumcision and renaming it Syria Palaestina. Every time his name was mentioned, Jewish people would add “May his bones be crushed”. Episode 84 Longing for Death sees off Hadrian, dying of congestive heart failure. He had been obsessed with security and peace during his reign, and now he had to choose a successor. He overlooked his great-nephew Fuscus, fearing that he would be another Nero. He really wanted Marcus Aurelius, but he was too young. So he chose sickly, nondescript Lucius instead who died before Hadrian did. Then he chose the fairly unambitious Antoninus Pius, on condition that he adopt Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus. He did indeed long for death, and died aged 62, after ruling for 21 years.

Democracy Sausage with Mark Kenny. Lies, damned lies, and election campaigns addresses the question of civility, cynicism and truthfulness in politics. With a very good panel of Judith Brett (emeritus professor La Trobe University), Bernard Keene (Crikey) and regular podleague Dr Marija Taflaga, they come to the conclusion that things went downhill with Tony Abbott, both as opposition leader and then Prime Minister. An interesting episode.

Stuff the British Stole (ABC) It’s a living thing this time, but it was stolen anyway. Best.Named.Dog.Ever. is about the Pekingese owned by Queen Victoria, who was given a dog stolen as part of the sacking of the Old Summer Palace in Beijing in retaliation for the imprisonment and torture of diplomats in the wake of the Second Opium War in 1860. Check out the Old Summer Palace – it’s incredible, and is now more a tourist destination for Chinese people than western tourists because it has been incorporated into the Chinese ‘Century of Humiliation’ story. And what did Queen Victoria call her dog? You’ll have to listen yourself.

Boyer Lectures (ABC) Lecture 2: Soul of the Age- Order vs Chaos looks at Shakespeare’s ideas about power. Bell reminds us that Shakespeare was writing during tumultuous political times, with Mary Queen of Scots challenging Queen Elizabeth, and the Guy Fawkes terrorist plot. Shakespeare has ideas about Kingship (with Henry V his go-to guy), populism and order that he often had to drape in the clothes of past or distant civilizations. A better lecture than the first one- more specific, with better supported examples.

History This Week (History Channel) Here in Australia we always think that we are so important, and it’s always rather amusing to see how little we matter to the rest of the world. Freedom Rides Down Under looks at the Freedom Rides, based on the American example, that took off from the University of Sydney in late 1964/5 to visit outback towns in NSW. Anne Curthoys and Peter Read are featured, and there is sound footage from the time, capturing the anger in Walgett and Moree (rather oddly pronounced by the American host) when the embedded racism of the towns was publicized.

‘The Sweetness of Water’ by Nathan Harris

2021, 356 P.

SPOILER ALERT

I can remember when I was young, I sometimes deliberately stretched out the ending of a book because I feared that it was going to end badly for the characters. If I just left them there, suspended, the bad thing wouldn’t happen to them. Magical thinking, I know, but that’s very much the way that I felt when I only had about 50 pages of this book left to go. I would make excuses that my reading circumstances weren’t good enough- I was too tired, the light was poor, I’d enjoy it better tomorrow – but I know that it was because I feared the ending.

Over the last 18 months or so, I have been remediating my dearth of knowledge about American history by listening to Heather Cox Richardson’s history videos on Facebook. I really knew very little about the Reconstruction era: that 13 year period between 1863 and 1877 immediately following the American Civil War. The whole concept of a civil war chills me, with the contortions of morality and identity that must take place in order to be able to fight someone who shares language, place, experience. And then when it stops- what then? How do you step back from that?

Old Ox is a small town in Georgia, staunchly Confederate during the war, and resentful and broken afterwards. Emancipation has seen formerly enslaved people suddenly free, but without resources, money or plans. Many of them stay in Old Ox, some still living and working for their former owners, others building shanties under the eaves and in the alley-ways of the buildings in the town. Landry and Prentiss are hiding out in the woods where they are discovered by George Walker, a small-scale white farmer. They agree to work on George’s farm, planting peanuts, in return for shelter in the barn, food and a wage. They had been enslaved on a nearby plantation, and the cruelty of the owner, Ted Morton, had stripped Landry of speech. The brothers dream of finding their mother, who had been sold, and now that they can earn some money, they have a chance of doing so.

George’s sudden plan to plant peanuts is triggered by his need to turn his hand to something. He and his wife Isabelle are mute in their grief for their son, lost in the war. Never particularly close, now Isabelle in particular is engulfed by mourning, and largely oblivious to the two men in the barn, and George’s absence working the land by day.

Suddenly their son Caleb returns. He has sustained facial injuries, which we learn are not a battle injury, but instead meted out for desertion. His childhood friend- indeed, more than a friend- August had visited Caleb’s parents earlier to inform them of their son’s supposed death, and their secret sexual relationship starts up again. When they are discovered, a whole cascade of events is triggered, leading to George, Caleb and Prentiss fleeing north.

This is a beautifully told book. It has a slightly formal, 19th century lilt to the language and it’s hard to believe that the author is only 29. The characters have complexity, although George’s confidante, the prostitute Clementine, is less well drawn. It captures well this liminal time, when the gaping newness had not yet solidified into inevitability. It was long-listed for the Booker Prize, but it didn’t make the cut. It did make it as an Oprah Book Club read, for what it’s worth.

I really enjoyed it – once I had the courage to finish it.

Sourced from: Yarra Plenty Regional Library

My rating: 9/10

I hear with my little ear: Podcasts 17-23 November 2021

The History of Rome Podcast Episode 77 What Time Is It? follows through on Domitian, who after a rising in Germany led by Governor Saturninus in 89 AD, became even more paranoid and dictatorial than he was before. As a result, there was an explosion of edicts against him by the Senate, although the rank and file of the Praetorian Guard and the Legions remained loyal to him. He had been warned by a soothsayer that he would die at noon, and each day asked “What time is it?” and heaved a sigh of relief when noon had passed. In the end he was assassinated by court officials, who lied about the time. He was 45 years old, and had ruled for 15 years. Like Augustus, he was broad in his approach but he never had Augustus’ gravitas, and as soon as he was killed there was a concerted campaign to impugn his reputation. In Episode 78 Imperial Stopgap, the Senate now had to decide who to have as emperor, because Domitian had no sons. What the Senators really wanted was a childless old man who might choose one of their sons to be his successor. They settled on Nerva, who fitted the bill, but was never accepted by the troops of the Praetorian Guard or the troops of the Legions, with whom he had a strained relationship. He was a populist, with policies like low taxes and giving people stuff, but the economy faltered. He melted down statues and cancelled the games. The best thing he did was choose Trajan as his successor (and for this he is known as the first of the Five Good Emperors) and at least he died of natural causes, after 15 months. And hooray! We’ve reached the 2nd century A. D. (or C.E) Episode 79 The Dacian Wars sees Trajan biding his time while Nerva was still alive, and not appearing to be too eager when taking power. He was actually born in Spain, not Rome and was the second of the Five Good Emperors and officially acclaimed by the senate as optimus princeps (“best ruler”). He was an army man, but he knew that armies need good infrastructure, and this is what he is best known for building the Trajan Forum, the Trajan Market and the Trajan Column (which still stands). He defeated the Dacians (present day Transylvania) and incorporated it into the empire as an imperial province in 106CE. Episode 80 Optimus Trajan goes through the many good things that Trajan did: infrastructure, keeping the peace, and supporting the provincial governors to use their own initiative as long as it was for the common good. He was a friend of Pliny the Younger, and much that we know of him comes from the letters between them. He advised Pliny to give the troublesome Christians (who seemed to be spreading) an opportunity to recant without penalty, but if they refused, then to execute them. He launched another war against the Parthians, prompted by conflict over Armenia, and reduced it to client kingdom status. He reportedly said that he wished he was younger, so he could keep going to India, like Alexander the Great had done. But he wasn’t young, and he got sick and died at the age of 63 after a reign of nearly twenty years.

By Tataryn – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=19625326

Emperors of Rome Is it very naughty of me to cheat on Mike Duncan by listening to another podcast about Rome at the same time that I’m listening to his? I confess to feeling a bit apprehensive that all this Roman history is just washing over me- especially as all these emperors seem to have variations on about five names- and so I’d really like some of this information to ‘stick’. I had seen the Emperors of Rome podcast on my podcast feed, but I wasn’t expecting it to be Australian! And, even better, from ‘my’ university just up the road, La Trobe University. It’s presented by Dr Rhiannon Evans and Matt Smith, which means that there’s a nice interaction between them as presenters. You can really tell that Evans has academic chops compared with Mike Duncan, because she is very concerned with sources and documentation, whereas Duncan’s is more of a chronological, survey approach. Given that I’m up to Trajan with Mike Duncan, I launched right in to episode XLV In Trajan We Trust where I learned that Trajan is one of the emperors where most of our information comes from material ruins, rather than written sources. Episode XLVI – Trajan vs Dacia explained that Dacia is where Romania is today. Episode XLVII Pliny the Younger sidetracks a bit to go into the life of Pliny the Younger, the nephew of Pliny the Elder, who gave us probably the best account of the eruption at Pompeii. Episode XLVIII – Trajan: Optimus Princeps sums up Trajan’s life, and gives him a pretty good score. I’m delighted to have found this series. Even though these episodes were recorded in May 2016, the podcast is still going! They have a Facebook page with all their episodes too.

Australia vs the Climate (The Guardian) Part 4: Fossil Fuels looks at the influence of the fossil fuel lobby on the Morrison government- although it has been a potent force in Australian politics for decades. Most insidious is its inclusion in government climate change policy announcements- and sure enough, who is sponsoring Australia’s stand at Glasgow but Santos.

Conversations (ABC) The frequency of cleft lip or palate in Australia is 1:800 births. I’m often mystified: why don’t you see prominent people with them? As a person with a cleft lip and palate myself, I notice instantly when I meet someone else who has one (and I bet they notice mine too). But why aren’t they in Parliament, or on television, or writers at Writers Festivals? Good on you, Wendy Harmer, for being right out there. In The Trailblazer: Wendy Harmer Richard Fidler, a fellow comedian, talks with Wendy about her childhood, her surgeries, her career and her success.

Lit Hub The very scratchy Lit Century podcast looks at Freud’s 1930 book Civilization and its Discontents in the episode How Has Freud Changed the Way We Tell Our Stories. I haven’t read this book, and I don’t know if I particularly want to after listening to this podcast which made it sound Damned Hard Work. The podcast features Jessica Gross, the author of the novel Hysteria about a young woman’s relationship with Freud. They note the irony of Freud’s contention that with aggression curtailed, it turns inward- just as the world was to embark on another aggressive world war. Basically, they argue that Freud encourages us to ask why we, or a character in a story, are the way we are. Freud takes an idea which, self-deprecatingly he says is nothing new, then turns it upside down or pushes it out of shape. Both Jessica and the interviewer Catherine Nichols observed that they would be exhilarated and challenged by new ideas, but on shutting the book would be hardpressed to explain the idea to anyone else. But I really do wish they’d buy a proper microphone.

Six degrees of separation: from Ethan Frome to…

It’s the first Saturday of the month again, and so it’s time for Six Degrees of Separation, a meme hosted by Kate at Booksaremyfavouriteandbest. She chooses the starting book- in this case, Edith Wharton’s Etham Frome – and you think of six books linked in some way in your own mind: by the title, by the content, by theme, place of publication – whatever you want. It is a rare month when I have read the starting book and this month is no different: I have heard of it, but have not read it. But I do gather that it’s about a man called Ethan Frome, and so I’ll search through my reviews for fiction books with a man’s name as the title. I’ll stick to fiction, because biographies would be too easy.

Shuggie Bain by Douglas Stuart won the Booker Prize in 2020. The book is a thinly disguised autobiography. Shuggie Bain is the youngest of three children, always fastidious and conscious of appearance. The woman whose appearance meant most to him was his mother, Agnes, whose attention to her dress, hair and makeup masked increasingly futile attempts to disguise her alcoholism. The book is set in a Glasgow ravaged by Thatcher’s economic policies. It tells a narrative well, its use of dialogue is good, the emotional tenor of Shuggie’s bond with his mother is nuanced, and Stuart imagines himself sensitively into Agnes’ befuddled mind. It is all of these things, but for me it didn’t have the literary heft that I would want a Booker Prize winner to have. (My review here).

It’s not really likely that you have heard of Bogle Corbet, written by land and emigration entrepreneur John Galt in 1833. It is a product of its time and taste, and rather forgettable. It comes as a three-volume edition, available through the Internet Archive and, dear me, if ever a format encouraged verbosity it must have been the three-volume novel. It is a thinly-disguised immigrant tract, aimed at the gentleman settler market encouraging them to emigrate to Canada, and although the fictional young Bogle travelled far from his Scottish origins- London, West Indies, back to Scotland, then Canada- not much seems to happen in this book. I had a particular academic reason for reading it, but unless you do too, it is probably best left languishing on the Internet Archive. (My review is here)

Mister Pip is actually the Pip of Charles Dickens’ ‘Great Expectations’ in Lloyd Jones’ book. (Come to think of it, Charles Dickens was rather fond of the male-name title- David Copperfield, Martin Chuzzlewit etc) The character of Pip was rather incongruously brought to a village in Bougainville by Mr Watts, (nicknamed Pop-eye), the last remaining white man on Bougainville after the implementation of the blockade by Papua New Guinea in 1990 and the descent into civil war between the ‘rambos’ (village boys who joined the rebel insurgency) and the ‘redskins’ (PNG soldiers). Mr Watts was always an outsider. He was quite frankly eccentric, pushing his demented village wife around the village in a shopping trolley. But somehow he managed to interweave the experience of Pip and his great expectations into the shared knowledge of this small Pacific village. (My review is here)

Jasper Jones by Craig Silvey is set in 1965 Charlie Bucktin, the bookish, nerdy, teacher’s son is startled by a knock at the louvres of his sleep-out when Jasper Jones, the town ‘bad boy’, calls him out into the backyard. Somehow or other Jasper Jones cajoles him into assisting with the disposal of the body of a young school acquaintance that Jasper found hanging from a tree in his special place in the bush. This young girl was Jasper’s secret girlfriend and Jasper is terrified that he will be blamed for her murder. Even though this book has garnered much praise, and found its way onto myriad secondary school reading lists, I wasn’t that impressed. There is a self-indulgence in lengthy digressions and internal dialogues, and an indulgence too in the number of themes the author crams into the book: first love, friendship, bullying, police brutality, racial prejudice, marriage breakup, incest, youth suicide, social exclusion. But perhaps you love it? Many people do… (My snarky review here)

The title of Amanda Lohrey’s A Short History of Richard Kline is a bit longer than just the name, but I’ll count it anyway. The blurb on the back of this book describes it as “a pilgrim’s progress for the here and now”. I can see the likenesses: Pilgrim’s Progress has Christian, its everyman character not unlike the eponymous Richard Kline in this book; Christian and Richard are both on a spiritual journey and quite frankly, just as with Bunyan’s book, not everyone is going to want to go along the path with Richard Kline either. I wasn’t enthusiastic about this book either and you can find yet another of my snarky reviews here.

Oh dear, there’s a lot of books here that I didn’t care much for, and I’m coming over as a bit of a moaner. I’d better close with a book that I did enjoy whole-heartedly. I really enjoyed Washington Black by Esi Edugyan where a young enslaved boy from the canefields of Barbados end up in places as diverse as the Arctic, Nova Scotia, England and Morocco. This book works on a big canvas, reminding me oddly of a Dickens novel in its scope. It crosses the globe, and it has big characters. It is at heart a quest novel, although shot through with yearning, injustice and beautiful description. (My very positive review is here).

‘The Pastor’s Wife’ by Elizabeth von Arnim

Originally published 1914, 492 p.

Where has Elizabeth von Arnim been all this time? Or rather, where have I been? – because she was here all along, even though I had never heard of her until I read Joyce Morgan’s The Countess from Kirrabilli (review here) and Gabrielle Carey’s Only Happiness Here (review here) It was Carey’s book that finally nudged me to actually read one of her books, instead of just reading about them, and I’m so glad that I did!

Ingebord was the daughter of a bishop, and had been brought up to be his clerical assistant, as her mother had taken to the couch “ill” and her sister was busy on the marriage market. No-one in the family expected that Ingebord would be anything other than a clerical assistant until one day, sent into the city to visit the dentist for what was assumed would be a week-long procedure, she found herself free after just one day and standing outside a travel agent with money in her purse. On the spur of the moment, she bought a ticket to Lucerne. On her trip she met Robert Dremmel, a Lutheran pastor, and very shortly married him. But after traumatic childbirth experiences and the deaths of several children, she resisted Robert’s pressure to have more children. Angry at her intransigence, he plunged himself even further into his agricultural hobbies, and deliberately withdrew both emotionally and physically from her. When an English artist, Ingram, came to stay in their small village, she was swept up into an unwitting courtship that led to her accompanying Ingram to Italy. There she had to decide whether to follow her besotted but feckless lover, or to return to a stable but loveless marriage.

Ingebord is a frustratingly fey, innocent character. She is largely moulded by the people around her, and passively drifts into other people’s plans for her- until all of a sudden she breaks out for one of her abrupt, life-changing decisions. But she also hungers for beauty and happiness, and opens herself up to new people and experiences where-ever she can find them – quite difficult in a small German village, where she does not speak the language and is largely ignored.

This book was written in 1914, and it certainly has that slight archness of ‘old-fashioned’ writing. It is very wordy: rather ironically, it reminded me quite a bit of the more recent writing of Jonathan Franzen and Philip Roth in its panopticon vision of the thoughts and motivations of different characters, which are explained at some length. But it also has a Jane-Austen-esque wit, as if the author is winking at you. It’s a pleasure to read complex sentences that are so well-constructed, and which flow so smoothly. I often found myself chuckling away (more, in fact, than I did with Miriam Margolyes’ book).

Yet, although it might be styled as a ‘comedy’, there is a great deal of truth about human nature in this book. Von Armin captures so well the draining nausea and fatigue of early pregnancy; she writes sensitively about the sharp pain caused by another’s indifference, and as Gabrielle Carey notes, von Armin luxuriates in the glow that happiness brings. The Pastor’s Wife was far more perspicacious and witty than I expected it to be – thank you Gabrielle Carey for sharing your pleasure in her work with me!

Rating: 9/10

Sourced from: an omnibus e-book that still has lots of other Elizabeth von Armin stories to enjoy

AHA Conference Day 3: 2 December 2021

A bit of a disrupted day today, because I had a Spanish conversation class at 9.30, then a book group lunch. So I just caught what I could.

I started with the ‘Lets Talk about things: Sydney region Aboriginal objects in overseas museums, for instance’ session. This seemed to be in a panel format, with the presentations referencing each other, and delivered one after the other with questions (I assume) at the end. Maria Nugent started off by talking about the Gweagal shield, which came to Australians’ awareness with the NMA ‘Encounters’ exhibition in 2016. Maria explained, in keeping with her argument in her Australian Historical Studies article of 2018 ‘A Shield Loaded with History: Encounters, Objects and Exhibitions’, there is doubt about whether the shield really was associated with Cook at all. But it has given rise to a project to find and return cultural material from museums across the world. Eleanor Foster then took over, talking about her project to locate and contextualize objects found in the Hunter Valley between 1826-1839. Regionally-focused object-directed research places importance on the context and relationships behind objects, rather than the qualities of the object or the collector. She spoke about metal fish-hooks which had previously been thought to come from Tahiti, but which documentary evidence suggested had been part of the exchange on Threlkeld’s mission (where they were swapped in exchange for information) or Dawson’s mission at Port Stephens (where they were swapped in exchange for other types of fish hooks). Then there were the fishing spears that Lady Perry wrote about in letters – she had real trouble in tracking any down to send ‘home’, perhaps because there were fewer produced, or were more tightly held by their indigenous makers. Then Paul Irish, who coined the term ‘affiliated coastal zone’ to describe the Hunter Valley region, spoke about the importance of the work being done by Gaye Sculthorpe and Danny Simpson in tracking down objects in different museums internationally. Objects often have no documentary links at all, and often the museum itself wants to know about the object as well. Finding similar objects in different repositories (often on different continents) means that they can be compared.

Entonces era la hora de mi clase de español

Spanish class over, I returned to catch the 11.00- 12.15 session ‘Defending White Australia’. I knew that I would have to leave this early too, as I was due to leave for lunch at 11.45. But the two papers I heard were excellent. Deirdre O’Connell (who has recently published Harlem Nights) spoke about Billy Hughes’ years on the backbench, after resigning as Prime Minister in February 1923 in her paper ‘This Bit of the World Belongs to Us: Billy Hughes, vigilante enforcement and the White Australia Policy’. In 1924 he embarked on an American tour, at the invitation of the English Speaking Union, arriving just as the U.S. government hammered out the Johnson Reed Act (also known as the Immigration Act) of 1924 which banned non-Nordic immigration. In March he was in Dallas, where the Ku Klux Klan hosted its Kolossal Karnival. While it is impossible that he would have been oblivious to the KKK’s presence, there is no evidence that he met with them. On his return, after a period of quietude, he hooked on to the arrival of Italians, and the deportation of Sonny Clay’s Negro Minstrels (hence Deirdre’s interest) and made a fiery speech at the National Party’s conference, advocating vigilantism. Joseph Parro‘s paper ‘Unfinished revolutions: unfinished examination: Australian fascism after the Second World War’ saw 1945 as a turning point, with the execution of Mussolini and with the Third Reich in its death throes. He focused on Tom Graham, who had arrived in Australia from Britain in 1936. He was jailed for pamphlets he had written, then interned. For him, the revolution was unfinished and called for nuclear weapons to wipe out ‘the Rabble’. Although he has been dismissed as a ‘crank’, we need to look at the heterogenous, adaptable, network-focussed, international nature of fascism, especially in view of the contemporary extreme right.

Lunchtime at the pub!

Finally, I caught the roundtable on ‘Unsettled Domesticities’. The chair, Victoria Haskins, reminded us that we were zooming in from our homes, but we were all living on unceded aboriginal lands, and the implications of that for an indigenous sense of ‘home’. Penny Russell gave a personal reflection on the exhumation in 2019 and recent reburial of the bones of her great-great-great (I lost count of the greats) grandfather, whose remains were exposed by rail works. The large plate on his coffin indicated who he was, but the family history that Penny has uncovered reveals him as an insular, authoritative man who emigrated to Australia in his 50’s, bringing with him his middle class, evangelical, entrepreneurial domesticity which he planted on the other side of the world. Katrina Dernelly‘s paper ‘Mrs Morland and Isabella Murrell: a husband’s cruelty on the Victorian goldfields’ told of the murder of Isabella Murrell by her husband William who literally beat her to death. He argued that he was trying to ‘reform’ her and that it was a crime of ‘passion’ (still a defence in UK) so that the charges could be reduced to manslaughter. Here, home was no refuge. Andrew Gorman-Murray who is a cultural geographer spoke of domesticity as a spatial concept. The ‘home’ is imagined as a heteronormative space, which has implications for queer home-making. He pointed out that for many homosexual men, privacy could only be found in public, and suggested that domesticity was a privilege. Perhaps ‘anti-domesticity’ is when an imagined home cannot be put into practice. Finally, Karen Agutter looked at displaced persons arriving in Australia post WWII and their accommodation in reception centres. Men were expected to work as labourers and women as domestics, no matter what their career had been previously. Families were often separated, and meals were held communally (although the ‘family meal’ was rather an English concept). It was difficult for families to get out of the reception centres because of high rents both for the hostel accommodation itself and ‘outside’ in the open rental market.

And so that was the end of the AHA Conference 2021. I’m looking forward to catching up on some of the sessions that I missed, because they will be available for a short time afterwards for attendees. That’s always one of the bugbears of a conference- wanting to be in two places at once. So, perhaps Zoom is not all bad. In fact, it’s not even half bad – think how hard things would have been over the last two years without it. But I still crave the morning tea muffin, and a club sandwich and a nametag. I’ll just have to make sure I get them in 2022 at some conference somewhere.