Saturday evening: At home cooling off under the fan after two days of the Writers Festival and the day before that at a workshop – “Writing for Change”.
As always these events leave me inspired. The workshop was held on the grounds of the old Claremont Teachers' College. We were in a room at the top of a winding jarrah staircase. For whatever reason we were out of sync with the air-conditioning and it probably set the tone, as the outside temperatures in Perth have been hovering around the 35° mark. Despite the sauna, the 40 people present at the workshop seemed to get a lot out of it and both presenters – Jennifer Kahnweiler and Annamaria Weldon were interesting and eloquent. During the “open space” segment a number of us formed small groups under the pine trees outside. My group discussed the question: “Are we intentionally writing for change or is this a potential by-product of the creative work”? As there were three non-fiction writers and three fiction writers in our group I wondered if this would mean two distinct points of view but there seemed to be a consensus, even amongst those writing novels, that deliberate attempts were being made to influence the readers – in other words to promote [gently or otherwise] changes in attitude and behaviours. Perth being Perth, I met people who knew people that I know. As Maarten [a friend and organiser] indicated, we were indeed an eclectic mix and I have thrown my hat into the ring to be part of the volunteer group to assist with future gatherings. The Writers Festival has again more than met my expectations. Yesterday morning began with Daniele and I dropping in to my sister’s place to wish her a happy birthday. She had just started to read The Luminaries and was quite blown away. After a quick coffee we drove along the river to the uni. Not a parking place in sight (it was also Orientation Day for new students) so we neatly slipped under a tree on a verge. With slight misgivings we left the car – with a lot of others parked in a similar way – but of course later in the day I returned to find parking inspectors trolling the area and delivering tickets. Somebody told us it would cost $120 so we were quite relieved when we found that ours was only $45 – with a discount of 10% of be paid within a week!
None of that detracted from the Festival. I went into the Octagon Theatre to see Margaret Drabble who was interviewed by Liz Byrski. Both were delightful, with Margaret reminding me of another Margaret – Margaret Atwood who we saw last year. A lovely, ageing, sharp, witty, acerbic-when-necessary, woman. I confess I cannot remember ever reading a Margaret Drabble novel but the interview gave me an appreciation of her writing journey from the 60s when she was young mother to the present where she is a woman in her 80s and still writing about contemporary issues and their effect on women and on men.
From 1 o’clock to 3 o’clock I was scheduled to be in the OOTA information tent. {A Fremantle Writers’ Group to which I belong}. It was very hot and we didn’t have many punters and I had a nice conversation with a poet, Carolyn Apps, and with a young member of the Peter Cowan Writers’ Group – Nicole, who told me she was a baker and was writing fantasy. I loved it when a member of the UWA academic staff approached us with some of his flyers about staff protesting pay and conditions and increased demands on poor academics. When Nicole asked what he did he said he was an anthropologist and a professor and she asked him what was an anthropologist? Her naivete was quite disarming. She told me that in her writing she was trying to integrate the world of witches and worts with the world of technology as she felt that both worlds were unnecessarily separate. So keep your eyes out for the emergence of a young Perth writer will a powerful imagination!
I then teamed up with Daniele who had been to see Philip Nitschke lead a session called “Dammed If He Does”. She came away much better informed about the possibilities of assisted suicide. And I hasten to add she thought it was a very good session – one hosted by Geraldine Mellet.
We both then went back to the Octagon, this time me with my sweater as the air-conditioning had been so cold I felt headachy after the morning session. Victoria Laurie was interviewing Robyn Davidson, the famed author of ‘Tracks’ which came out when she was 27 years of age and which many of us read as a matter of course. From our distance she still looked like a young blonde but when I saw her later at the book signing it was obvious distance (and my aging eyes) create a misleading impression. Nonetheless she was very impressive, talking about her early life and her mother’s suicide when she was 11. As was the custom this was not ever discussed and her father never again mentioned her mother by name. He was Queensland farming gentry, well off and a ‘man’s man’ according to Robyn. She said that she also did not think much about her mother in those days and it was only when she turned 40 – the age her mother was when she died – that she began to address that emotional gap and sense of loss.
The journey across the desert with the camels in the 1970s was an escape in many ways. She was escaping Queensland and the expectations of what would happen to her as a woman. She also wanted to test herself and, in that trial, she not only befriended her animals and fell in love with the land in a deeper way, but she also was able to in her words ‘flush out her mind’ and have time alone for contemplation. I was fascinated with this and asked her during the question time whether she was aware of any contemplative yearning prior to the journey and whether she had teachers or practices now that reflected that need. I don’t think she addressed the first part of the question except that she said she had a great respect for Buddhist beliefs and culture, and for meditation, though she would call herself an atheist. On the other hand when asked about whether she was optimistic about the future she replied that she was not, and in her view everything was “going down the toilet”.
We were going to go to the Somerville in the evening to see the German film “Oh Boy” but decided to give it a miss as we were feeling buggered.
It was a good decision because after a swim the following morning I was much better organised [nice packed lunch and a thermos which I later enjoyed, meeting up with my book-club friend, Elyse, in the shade] and in a better space to enjoy Saturday. I drove for the first time in a week and the hand has healed well enough that I didn’t experience any discomfort. {For those who haven't heard it, I sliced myself in a domestic incident....Sounds good, huh?}
I pulled up in the long term parking as Daniele suggested and was told by helpful woman that, as it was the weekend, I didn’t need to pay. After a leisurely walk through the University – a walk that I always revere – I bought myself tickets to further sessions, sat down in a laid-back chair and read the morning paper before heading off to see Thomas Keneally and Richard Flanagan at Winthrop Hall in a session entitled “Love and War”. I was very touched by the references to the Burma railway and to the effect of war on men and women. Old Thomas was his usual rambling self but quite on the money and showing no real sign of mental decline at 78 years of age – in fact the contrary, and I was motivated to buy his latest book to see how his writing has developed since I read him so many years ago. Flanagan I did not really know and my memory is that when I tried to read “The Sound of One Hand Clapping” I was not taken and did not get far into the book. However, hearing him talk about his latest book “The Narrow Road to the Deep North", I was impressed enough to buy the book, especially since I was so affected by The Railwayman, which we saw recently.
One thing that struck me listening to these men talking was the absence of Japanese people both in the room and in the wider discourse. I wondered, in my question which was put at the end of the session, whether there had been some attempts at rapprochement in the writing community. In other words, were there regular attempts by creative people from both countries aimed at bridging the cultural gap? Neither writer directly answered the question although by implication I gather there has not been much interaction between Japanese and Australian writers. Tom mentioned the language barrier for one thing although he did say he had nice connection with Kenzaburo Oe at a conference some time ago and the only thing he remembers that 'Ken' could say in English was “Chivas Regal 10 years old”.
Afterwards, when I was getting their books signed, I told both men [who were sitting close together] that the real question I was wanting to ask was around the fine line between a love of country and a corrupting kind of nationalism which sees men and women commit horrible acts. I was thinking along the lines of how I am touched by Anzac services and how I have had relatives die in the so-called Great War and my dad scarred physically and mentally from his time in New Guinea – and I have an appreciation of the enduring bonds of comradeship – and I am also aware that 70 years after the Second World War ended, it is not obvious that we understand the Japanese culture any better than we did in 1941 or they understand ours any better as well. There are really two questions here but they do overlap in sort of way that I wouldn’t mind developing in my own work at some point.
I recall Richard Flanagan saying that when he was writing he couldn’t simply tell his father’s story because that was too close to the bone and that if he was to create a novel he had to find a way of separating out the personal.
But it was in the next session that I really heard and saw creativity in action. Eleanor Catton is 28 years of age. Her second novel “The Luminaries” has just won the Man Booker prize. She is the daughter, as she said, of a philosopher father and a librarian mother, and she herself teaches creative writing at university. Many jaws have dropped that someone so young and living in New Zealand (!) has had the temerity to write an 800 page novel – the longest that has ever won Booker – and arrive relatively unannounced on what is a very competitive literary scene.
Listening to her speaking with Susan Wyndham you soon understood that this is no ordinary young woman. Her speech gives her away as both a New Zealander (though she was born in Canada) and as a twenty-something but the content is another question. She has read and been influenced by Carl Jung and talked about the archetypes and how she incorporated this knowledge into her novel. She has also read Martin Buber and spoke of “I – Thou” and how people regard themselves and one another, both in terms of separation and togetherness. In framing her book, which deals with a mystery stemming out of the New Zealand goldfields on the South Island in 1866, she has brought in astrology and from the way she talked it is clear she has a very good understanding of the methodology and significance. I particularly like the way she answered Susan’s question “Do you believe in astrology”? Catton said that it wasn’t a question of belief but she thought that astrology was part of thousands of years of tradition whereby humans sought to give meaning to their lives and this was one particular framework.
Catton's novel, written over 5 years, went through many incarnations and tested her editor's patience. My ears pricked up when I heard her say she disagreed with creative writing teachers who dictated that you need to have a developed plot and/or some fleshed-out characters before you begin a novel. For her this is unimportant. She focuses upon a theme, and once that is established in her mind, the rest follows. Whew, I thought. That resonates.
The Luminaries, I imagine, will become a 'must' for our book club. Meanwhile, home at Jenkin Street, Daniele is first cab off the rank. After 12 pages she is already waxing lyrical...... I have been to one further session today – a discussion between Lionel Shriver and David Vann, facilitated by Chip Rolley. All are American and they live overseas – Shriver in London, Vann in New Zealand and Rolley in Sydney. The session was called “States of Mind” and was intended to explore “powerful social issues against the backdrop of contemporary US society”. It was also meant to address the ability of a 21st century novelist to “effect social change”. In view of the workshop I’d attended on Thursday I was interested to see how they would approach that issue. One of the points Lionel Shriver made at the outset was that it would be totally counter-productive to write anything purely polemical. That would completely turn off potential readers. Again I haven’t read any of her work but one of her books ['So Much For That'] is aimed at the American health care industry (pre-Obama care) and her most recent book ['Big Brother'] has obesity at its core. David Vann’s latest work, 'Goat Mountain', takes a stance against guns and he related that, as a 13-year-old, following his father’s suicide, he was (incredible as this now seems) given his father’s gun collection. He said that his pro-active attitude towards gun control has earned him hate mail from his fellow-countrymen. For him it is a relief to live in country like New Zealand where there aren’t as many people, most own their own houses, and those that do live there tend to be nice to one another!
It was curious to hear these self-proclaimed ex-pats dish it out. The military-industrial complex came in for a big serve - nothing new, course......For as long as I can recall, it's been an easy target for those left of centre and there was a time I was right there on the bandwagon. But (and here I step back from the postings of various friends on Facebook and elsewhere).....the time-honoured tactic of scorn and personal abuse appears completely ineffective. Those attacked simply put up the defenses (or counter-attack). Heat added to heat, without any light. So I wonder about the effectiveness of the Shrivers and the Vanns, who 'maintain their rage'.............Are they merely preaching to the converted, albeit with clever and powerful story-telling?
Another book mentioned in passing by Vann was his novel “Dirt”. This is an out and out attack on American’s fascination with the so-called New Age. Vann said that of all the calamities affecting America, 'New Age' was the worst and that he knew this from his own experience of attempting many weird things that fall into that basket. [Like trying to walk through walls - thus testing out the 'new physics' of reducing all matter to waves and particles.......]
Given more time I would have explored Vann's dismissive, one-dimensional views, arguing that it is possible to throw the baby out with the bathwater and that many things that do come out of America are innovative, brave and continue the human exploration towards making meaning of our lives. And the so-called 'New Age', like military expenditure, is a soft target, easy to ridicule. But I can also see where he is coming from and I would be curious to read his novel. Meanwhile, there is the smell of fish in the pan and I will close off for now.
As always these events leave me inspired. The workshop was held on the grounds of the old Claremont Teachers' College. We were in a room at the top of a winding jarrah staircase. For whatever reason we were out of sync with the air-conditioning and it probably set the tone, as the outside temperatures in Perth have been hovering around the 35° mark. Despite the sauna, the 40 people present at the workshop seemed to get a lot out of it and both presenters – Jennifer Kahnweiler and Annamaria Weldon were interesting and eloquent. During the “open space” segment a number of us formed small groups under the pine trees outside. My group discussed the question: “Are we intentionally writing for change or is this a potential by-product of the creative work”? As there were three non-fiction writers and three fiction writers in our group I wondered if this would mean two distinct points of view but there seemed to be a consensus, even amongst those writing novels, that deliberate attempts were being made to influence the readers – in other words to promote [gently or otherwise] changes in attitude and behaviours. Perth being Perth, I met people who knew people that I know. As Maarten [a friend and organiser] indicated, we were indeed an eclectic mix and I have thrown my hat into the ring to be part of the volunteer group to assist with future gatherings. The Writers Festival has again more than met my expectations. Yesterday morning began with Daniele and I dropping in to my sister’s place to wish her a happy birthday. She had just started to read The Luminaries and was quite blown away. After a quick coffee we drove along the river to the uni. Not a parking place in sight (it was also Orientation Day for new students) so we neatly slipped under a tree on a verge. With slight misgivings we left the car – with a lot of others parked in a similar way – but of course later in the day I returned to find parking inspectors trolling the area and delivering tickets. Somebody told us it would cost $120 so we were quite relieved when we found that ours was only $45 – with a discount of 10% of be paid within a week!
None of that detracted from the Festival. I went into the Octagon Theatre to see Margaret Drabble who was interviewed by Liz Byrski. Both were delightful, with Margaret reminding me of another Margaret – Margaret Atwood who we saw last year. A lovely, ageing, sharp, witty, acerbic-when-necessary, woman. I confess I cannot remember ever reading a Margaret Drabble novel but the interview gave me an appreciation of her writing journey from the 60s when she was young mother to the present where she is a woman in her 80s and still writing about contemporary issues and their effect on women and on men.
From 1 o’clock to 3 o’clock I was scheduled to be in the OOTA information tent. {A Fremantle Writers’ Group to which I belong}. It was very hot and we didn’t have many punters and I had a nice conversation with a poet, Carolyn Apps, and with a young member of the Peter Cowan Writers’ Group – Nicole, who told me she was a baker and was writing fantasy. I loved it when a member of the UWA academic staff approached us with some of his flyers about staff protesting pay and conditions and increased demands on poor academics. When Nicole asked what he did he said he was an anthropologist and a professor and she asked him what was an anthropologist? Her naivete was quite disarming. She told me that in her writing she was trying to integrate the world of witches and worts with the world of technology as she felt that both worlds were unnecessarily separate. So keep your eyes out for the emergence of a young Perth writer will a powerful imagination!
I then teamed up with Daniele who had been to see Philip Nitschke lead a session called “Dammed If He Does”. She came away much better informed about the possibilities of assisted suicide. And I hasten to add she thought it was a very good session – one hosted by Geraldine Mellet.
We both then went back to the Octagon, this time me with my sweater as the air-conditioning had been so cold I felt headachy after the morning session. Victoria Laurie was interviewing Robyn Davidson, the famed author of ‘Tracks’ which came out when she was 27 years of age and which many of us read as a matter of course. From our distance she still looked like a young blonde but when I saw her later at the book signing it was obvious distance (and my aging eyes) create a misleading impression. Nonetheless she was very impressive, talking about her early life and her mother’s suicide when she was 11. As was the custom this was not ever discussed and her father never again mentioned her mother by name. He was Queensland farming gentry, well off and a ‘man’s man’ according to Robyn. She said that she also did not think much about her mother in those days and it was only when she turned 40 – the age her mother was when she died – that she began to address that emotional gap and sense of loss.
The journey across the desert with the camels in the 1970s was an escape in many ways. She was escaping Queensland and the expectations of what would happen to her as a woman. She also wanted to test herself and, in that trial, she not only befriended her animals and fell in love with the land in a deeper way, but she also was able to in her words ‘flush out her mind’ and have time alone for contemplation. I was fascinated with this and asked her during the question time whether she was aware of any contemplative yearning prior to the journey and whether she had teachers or practices now that reflected that need. I don’t think she addressed the first part of the question except that she said she had a great respect for Buddhist beliefs and culture, and for meditation, though she would call herself an atheist. On the other hand when asked about whether she was optimistic about the future she replied that she was not, and in her view everything was “going down the toilet”.
We were going to go to the Somerville in the evening to see the German film “Oh Boy” but decided to give it a miss as we were feeling buggered.
It was a good decision because after a swim the following morning I was much better organised [nice packed lunch and a thermos which I later enjoyed, meeting up with my book-club friend, Elyse, in the shade] and in a better space to enjoy Saturday. I drove for the first time in a week and the hand has healed well enough that I didn’t experience any discomfort. {For those who haven't heard it, I sliced myself in a domestic incident....Sounds good, huh?}
I pulled up in the long term parking as Daniele suggested and was told by helpful woman that, as it was the weekend, I didn’t need to pay. After a leisurely walk through the University – a walk that I always revere – I bought myself tickets to further sessions, sat down in a laid-back chair and read the morning paper before heading off to see Thomas Keneally and Richard Flanagan at Winthrop Hall in a session entitled “Love and War”. I was very touched by the references to the Burma railway and to the effect of war on men and women. Old Thomas was his usual rambling self but quite on the money and showing no real sign of mental decline at 78 years of age – in fact the contrary, and I was motivated to buy his latest book to see how his writing has developed since I read him so many years ago. Flanagan I did not really know and my memory is that when I tried to read “The Sound of One Hand Clapping” I was not taken and did not get far into the book. However, hearing him talk about his latest book “The Narrow Road to the Deep North", I was impressed enough to buy the book, especially since I was so affected by The Railwayman, which we saw recently.
One thing that struck me listening to these men talking was the absence of Japanese people both in the room and in the wider discourse. I wondered, in my question which was put at the end of the session, whether there had been some attempts at rapprochement in the writing community. In other words, were there regular attempts by creative people from both countries aimed at bridging the cultural gap? Neither writer directly answered the question although by implication I gather there has not been much interaction between Japanese and Australian writers. Tom mentioned the language barrier for one thing although he did say he had nice connection with Kenzaburo Oe at a conference some time ago and the only thing he remembers that 'Ken' could say in English was “Chivas Regal 10 years old”.
Afterwards, when I was getting their books signed, I told both men [who were sitting close together] that the real question I was wanting to ask was around the fine line between a love of country and a corrupting kind of nationalism which sees men and women commit horrible acts. I was thinking along the lines of how I am touched by Anzac services and how I have had relatives die in the so-called Great War and my dad scarred physically and mentally from his time in New Guinea – and I have an appreciation of the enduring bonds of comradeship – and I am also aware that 70 years after the Second World War ended, it is not obvious that we understand the Japanese culture any better than we did in 1941 or they understand ours any better as well. There are really two questions here but they do overlap in sort of way that I wouldn’t mind developing in my own work at some point.
I recall Richard Flanagan saying that when he was writing he couldn’t simply tell his father’s story because that was too close to the bone and that if he was to create a novel he had to find a way of separating out the personal.
But it was in the next session that I really heard and saw creativity in action. Eleanor Catton is 28 years of age. Her second novel “The Luminaries” has just won the Man Booker prize. She is the daughter, as she said, of a philosopher father and a librarian mother, and she herself teaches creative writing at university. Many jaws have dropped that someone so young and living in New Zealand (!) has had the temerity to write an 800 page novel – the longest that has ever won Booker – and arrive relatively unannounced on what is a very competitive literary scene.
Listening to her speaking with Susan Wyndham you soon understood that this is no ordinary young woman. Her speech gives her away as both a New Zealander (though she was born in Canada) and as a twenty-something but the content is another question. She has read and been influenced by Carl Jung and talked about the archetypes and how she incorporated this knowledge into her novel. She has also read Martin Buber and spoke of “I – Thou” and how people regard themselves and one another, both in terms of separation and togetherness. In framing her book, which deals with a mystery stemming out of the New Zealand goldfields on the South Island in 1866, she has brought in astrology and from the way she talked it is clear she has a very good understanding of the methodology and significance. I particularly like the way she answered Susan’s question “Do you believe in astrology”? Catton said that it wasn’t a question of belief but she thought that astrology was part of thousands of years of tradition whereby humans sought to give meaning to their lives and this was one particular framework.
Catton's novel, written over 5 years, went through many incarnations and tested her editor's patience. My ears pricked up when I heard her say she disagreed with creative writing teachers who dictated that you need to have a developed plot and/or some fleshed-out characters before you begin a novel. For her this is unimportant. She focuses upon a theme, and once that is established in her mind, the rest follows. Whew, I thought. That resonates.
The Luminaries, I imagine, will become a 'must' for our book club. Meanwhile, home at Jenkin Street, Daniele is first cab off the rank. After 12 pages she is already waxing lyrical...... I have been to one further session today – a discussion between Lionel Shriver and David Vann, facilitated by Chip Rolley. All are American and they live overseas – Shriver in London, Vann in New Zealand and Rolley in Sydney. The session was called “States of Mind” and was intended to explore “powerful social issues against the backdrop of contemporary US society”. It was also meant to address the ability of a 21st century novelist to “effect social change”. In view of the workshop I’d attended on Thursday I was interested to see how they would approach that issue. One of the points Lionel Shriver made at the outset was that it would be totally counter-productive to write anything purely polemical. That would completely turn off potential readers. Again I haven’t read any of her work but one of her books ['So Much For That'] is aimed at the American health care industry (pre-Obama care) and her most recent book ['Big Brother'] has obesity at its core. David Vann’s latest work, 'Goat Mountain', takes a stance against guns and he related that, as a 13-year-old, following his father’s suicide, he was (incredible as this now seems) given his father’s gun collection. He said that his pro-active attitude towards gun control has earned him hate mail from his fellow-countrymen. For him it is a relief to live in country like New Zealand where there aren’t as many people, most own their own houses, and those that do live there tend to be nice to one another!
It was curious to hear these self-proclaimed ex-pats dish it out. The military-industrial complex came in for a big serve - nothing new, course......For as long as I can recall, it's been an easy target for those left of centre and there was a time I was right there on the bandwagon. But (and here I step back from the postings of various friends on Facebook and elsewhere).....the time-honoured tactic of scorn and personal abuse appears completely ineffective. Those attacked simply put up the defenses (or counter-attack). Heat added to heat, without any light. So I wonder about the effectiveness of the Shrivers and the Vanns, who 'maintain their rage'.............Are they merely preaching to the converted, albeit with clever and powerful story-telling?
Another book mentioned in passing by Vann was his novel “Dirt”. This is an out and out attack on American’s fascination with the so-called New Age. Vann said that of all the calamities affecting America, 'New Age' was the worst and that he knew this from his own experience of attempting many weird things that fall into that basket. [Like trying to walk through walls - thus testing out the 'new physics' of reducing all matter to waves and particles.......]
Given more time I would have explored Vann's dismissive, one-dimensional views, arguing that it is possible to throw the baby out with the bathwater and that many things that do come out of America are innovative, brave and continue the human exploration towards making meaning of our lives. And the so-called 'New Age', like military expenditure, is a soft target, easy to ridicule. But I can also see where he is coming from and I would be curious to read his novel. Meanwhile, there is the smell of fish in the pan and I will close off for now.
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