The Drums Go Bang, Ruth Park & D’Arcy Niland

Australian Women Writers Gen 3 Week 12-18 Jan. 2020

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The Drums Go Bang, a joint memoir of their early married life in Sydney during WWII (which is not mentioned) by writers Ruth Park and D’Arcy Niland, has been one of my favourite books these last 50 or 60 years (my review). Sue/Whispering Gums has reviewed it for AWW Gen 3 Week


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Volume 1 of Ruth Park’s autobiography, A fence around the cuckoo, … was published in 1992. The drums go bang, written collaboratively by Park and Niland, was published in 1956 and covers the first five or so of these years to just after the publication in 1948 of The harp in the south. Read on …

Exiles at Home, Drusilla Modjeska

Australian Women Writers Gen 3 Week 12-18 Jan. 2020

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The 1930s were remarkable years in Australian cultural history. Women were producing the best fiction of the period and they were, for the first and indeed only time, a dominant influence in Australian literature. (Modjeska, opening lines)

My own opinion is that women dominated Australian literature from the end of WWI till the rise of the baby boomers, ie. throughout Gen 3. Though I guess from 1939 on we should factor Patrick White in there somewhere.

Exiles at Home: Australian Women Writers 1925-1945 (1981) is probably the single most important work on this period, certainly as an overview, though Nettie Palmer’s contemporaneous writings are also enormously valuable. HM Green devotes 550pp to ‘Fourth period 1923-1950’ but he is so discursive that it is difficult to use him for anything but referencing (History of Australian Literature, Vol.II).

Modjeska regards the 1920s as a bit of a desert for Aust.Lit, a hiatus between the glory days of Bulletin nationalism and the blossoming of women’s writing in the 1930s. I don’t totally agree with her though it is certainly true that the best women writers of the 1920s were overseas. Miles Franklin was in London and began her Brent of Bin Bin series in 1928; Henry Handel Richardson, also in London, was at the height of her career and had published five novels, including all of The Fortunes of Richard Mahoney, by 1929; Christina Stead, the best writer of this generation left Sydney for London in 1928, with A&R refusing to publish the stories that became The Salzburg Tales. But by March 1930 Miles Franklin was able to write to Alice Henry, “Australia seems to be throwing up writers like mushrooms.”

For the women of the thirties writing and publishing were in some respects easier, if only because there were enough of them to offer each other a network of intellectual and emotional support …

mostly through letter writing, most famously to and from Nettie and Vance Palmer, but also through organisations such as the Fellowship of Australian Writers around Marjorie Barnard, Miles Franklin (back in Sydney in 1935) and Frank Dalby Davidson.

Until the FAW, women had been deliberately excluded from writers’ societies and salons.

The major literary group of the twenties was clustered around Norman Lindsay and the magazine Vision which was edited by Frank Johnson, Kenneth Slessor, and Norman’s son Jack. These writers were part of Sydney’s bohemian group and their lifestyle left very little room for women.

The saddest case was Anne Brennan, daughter of the (alcoholic) poet Christopher Brennan. She apparently had an unnatural relationship with her father, fell into prostitution, hung around the Lindsay push for grog and sex, was derided by Jack Lindsay when she told him she wished to write, though one or two published pieces showed great promise, and was dead at 32 of consumption (TB).

Zora Cross was another. Her sensual poems published in 1917 and 1919 created a sensation. The push were all excited that a woman might write about sex but otherwise treated her as a joke, and she retreated into timidity (The Resident Judge has a promised posted a review of her life, which I’ll repost tomorrow).

Christina Stead as a young women was drawn by Vision and the idea of bohemian life, but luckily was too driven by the idea of getting to London to attempt to join in. In For Love Alone (1945) she calls the magazine ‘the Quarterly’ with “drawings of voluptuous, fat-faced naked women …”. But by then she is able to recognise its misogyny for what it was.

A woman writer involved with the Sydney Bohemians who appears to have been relatively unscathed, is Dora Birtles, not mentioned by Modjeska, who with her boyfriend was suspended from Sydney Uni in 1923 for the love poetry they wrote about each other. Her father forced them to marry, she went adventuring, they met up again in Greece and lived happily as writers/journalists ever after (ADB)

Modjeska says middle class women writers stayed home. But especially outside Sydney – and this seems a very Sydney-focussed book – they mixed in more serious circles, with workers and socialists. One who did though (stay home), was Marjorie Barnard, who took a history degree with honours in 1919, but was not permitted by her father to take up a scholarship to Oxford. She became a librarian, writing with her friend, teacher Flora Eldershaw. As M.Barnard Eldershaw they won the inaugural 1928 Bulletin Prize with A House is Built, jointly with Katharine Susannah Prichard’s Coonardoo.

At the centre of this generation of women is Nettie Palmer, who gave up her own career as a poet to support her husband, novelist Vance Palmer (or not to overshadow him, he already had feelings of inadequacy about Nettie’s monied and influential family). She was seemingly friend and correspondent with them all, and over the course of the 20s and 30s she became one of Australia’s principal literary critics. Her prize-winning essay Modern Australian Literature (1924) was “the first critical essay and survey of twentieth century Australian literature.” Both she and Vance worked to express a specifically Australian aesthetic.

Unlike her husband, unlike many of her writer friends, and of course most particularly communists like Stead and Prichard, Nettie Palmer rejected socialism in favour of a liberal humanism. She was blind, as many well-meaning upper middle class people are, to the constraints of class, “she avoided the avant-garde; beneath her rhetoric of a national culture, she was advocating the acceptance of a bourgeois cultural form.”

Nettie’s list of correspondents was extensive and many, particularly writers remote from the centres of Australian literature, like Richardson in London and Prichard in Perth, gave her credit for holding the Australian writing community together. But it is also telling whom she left out. She did not correspond with HM Green who had his own circle of correspondents, nor with Dulcie Deamer, “Queen of Bohemia”, nor with any of the Lindsay set. She wrote to writers, and particularly younger writers, she thought she could bring round to her own way of thinking.

In her letters Nettie Palmer made it clear that she expected progressive writers to present a public front that was united. It is in this respect that her bossiness is most evident.

One of Nettie’s ‘friends’ (it took them from 1930 to 1935 to get to first names) was Marjorie Barnard who was shy and for a long time had no other contact with writers outside her M.Barnard Eldershaw collaboration . It was Nettie who persuaded her to take up writing full time, Nettie who introduced her to politics, but also Nettie who came over all head prefect when Barnard turned to Pacifism at the beginning of WWII.

MBE’s third novel, The Glasshouse (1936) is their first set in the present, and it discusses both feminism and class, as well as the difficulties of being female and a writer. The later Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow (1941 ) goes on to discuss the duty of the writer to society.

Eleanor Dark, more confident than Barnard and with intellectual, supportive husband and parents, was another Palmer correspondent who “reveals a similar pattern of moving towards a self-conscious exploration of the social situation of the writer and of the social function of literature.”

Although she has earlier discussed Stead’s move to Europe as motivated by her desire to be at the heart of Modernism, which in Paris in the 30s she was, Modjeska fails to mention Dark’s importance in the introduction of Modernism into Australia.

By this time I am at p.100, out of 257, and you are worn out. Because of its importance to this week’s theme, I have attempted to summarize rather than review. Exiles at Home is a very dense work, full of information and analysis. If you are at all interested in this period, find a copy and read it.

 

Drusilla Modjeska, Exiles at Home: Australian Women Writers 1925 – 1945, Sirius, Sydney, 1981


Australian Women Writers Gen 3 Week

I hope you are all well into your Gen 3 reads. Let me know when you’ve done a review, particularly if you think I might not otherwise see it, and I’ll share it or at least make sure it’s included in the end of week wrap and that it’s linked from the AWW Gen 3 page.

Reviews to date –
Eleanor Dark, The Little Company, ANZLitLovers
Ruth Park, A Fence Around the Cuckoo, Travellin Penguin
Dora Birtles, The Overlanders, Luvvie’s Musings
Monday Musings on Dymphna Cusak, Whispering Gums
Monday Musings on Christina Stead, Whispering Gums
Mary Durack Poem, Whispering Gums
Brenda Niall, True North: The story of Mary and Elizabeth Durack, Whispering Gums
M Barnard Eldershaw, Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow, ANZLitLovers
Kylie Tennant, The Battlers, ANZLitLovers

Best Reads 2019

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NYT: What John Dos Passos’ 1919 got right

In May this year I set out to rectify the absence of current Australian fiction in my reading (here) but only ended up with the disappointing Wintering by Krissie Kneen . Still, I did manage to get to a few, the best being a tie really between

Behrouz Boochani,  No Friend but the Mountains
Gerald Murnane,  A Season on Earth

Other notable new releases included Hearing Maud by Jess White and Hollow Earth, John Kinsella. But it’s pretty clear that the most notable were the ones I didn’t read, Trent Dalton’s Boy Swallows Universe and Melissa Lucashenko’s Too Much Lip, followed at some distance by the intriguingly reviewed Pink Mountain on Locust Island by Jamie Marina Lau (here/here). And no, The Weekend is not on my list.

Before I go on, the photo above is from a story in the New York Times, 29 Dec 2019 (here) on John Dos Passos’ great trilogy USA, made up of The 42nd Parallel, 1919, and The Big Money. I have long believed that USA is THE Great American Novel, but it’s also a long time since I read it. Time I did again.

There’s a reason that Dos Passos’s Depression-era modernism seemed suddenly relevant. The present was coming to look a lot like the past… Dos Passos … had written a linguistically adventurous national portrait for a precarious age—his, and ours (Matt Hanson, NYT)

So, Best Reads –

1969

There were 17 novels published, the least worst of them are –

Martin Boyd, The Tea-Time of Love
Mena Calthorpe, The Defectors
Dymphna Cusack, The Half-burnt Tree
William Dick, The Naked Prodigal
George Johnston, Clean Straw for Nothing (1969 Miles Franklin winner)
Tom Keneally, The Survivor
Sumner Locke Elliott, Edens Lost
Jill Neville, The Love Germ (She falls in love with an Italian anarchist in Paris ’68)
Darcy Niland, Dead Men Running (ANZLitLovers)

R Geering wrote A Review of Christina Stead. ALS have a review (here), I’m going to have to give in and take out a subscription
Les Murray, The Weatherboard Cathedral (poetry)

1919

About the same number of books published as in 1918 – forty something. No notable novels, though I’ll list a few for form’s sake. And Archibald, the owner/editor of the Bulletin died.

Randolph Bedford, Aladdin and the Bush Cocky
Ewart, ? (writing as Boyd Cable), The Old Contemptibles
Beatrice Grimshaw, The Coral Queen
Marion Knowles, The Little Doctor
Ethel Turner, Brigid and the Cub
Paul Wenz, Le Pays de Leurs Pères

Chasing up The Old Contemptibles – the British Expeditionary Force of 1914 (the old regular army, which by the end of the year had been wiped out on the Western Front) – I discovered via the Oxford English Dictionary that ‘Boyd Cable’ is Ernest Andrew Ewart (here).

1869

Eight books

Marcus Clarke, The Peripatetic Philosopher (Essays)
Marcus Clarke, with GA Walstab, Long Odds
Henry Kendall, Leaves from Australian Forests (Verse)
Louisa Meredith, Phoebe’s Mother (in the Australasian, 1866, as Ebba)

I have the Kendall, maybe one day I’ll open it.
Ebba is here, if I get time I’ll start correcting it. According to AWWC website, this is Chap.1 and the remaining chapters are on the Australian Newspaper Fiction Database. When I tried, the link wasn’t working, but you could try here.

1819

One book last year, three this year, one next year, then a gap.

Field, First Fruits of Australian Poetry
Vaux, Memoirs of James Hardy Vaux
WC Wentworth, A Statistical, Historical and Political Description of the Colony of New South Wales and its Dependent Settlements in Van Dieman’s Land

The first novels are more than a decade away, by Mary Grimstone (ADB). Yes Australia’s first novelist was a woman. I’d better add her to the AWW Gen 1 page. According to Trove, her first, Louisa Egerton: or Castle Herbert (1830) may be at two libraries, and her second, Woman’s Love (1832) may be available to read online from the University of Tasmania.

 

Joy Hooton and Harry Heseltine, Annals of Australian Literature, 2nd Ed., OUP, Melbourne, 1992

EOY 2019

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Well, I hope you all had a pleasant Christmas. The Resident Judge did a post on the origins of the day (here) which, as I might have discussed before is neither the anniversary of Jesus’ birth nor of any supposed census, but I guess it was handy for the Romans to tie in with the winter solstice.

I ate very well at Ludmilla Agnes’ festivities and by the time I got to the pavlova, cheesecake and cheese platter I was struggling. Everyone else must have been too because there was pavlova for breakfast. I caught a taxi home and rode my bike back in the morning to pick up my ute, so that’s my exercise for the holiday break.

A pleasant end to a good year. A very easy year. Since I stopped getting work from Sam & Dragan there’s been no one to push me along and I’ve dropped back from one round trip a fortnight to one every three weeks. With a concomitant drop in income. So, no more breaks. Hopefully, by the time this post is up I’ll be on my way back to Melbourne [No I’m not]. And then in the new year, I’ll get another trailer, to run as a B-Triple, effectively a road train.

I’ve done my reading stats for the year past and they are as follows –

Books read: 159 (down from 208 last year. You do fewer kms, you listen to fewer books)

Gender balance: Male authors 84, Female 75

Author from: Australia  47, USA  51, UK 36, Europe 19, Asia 4, Other 2
The ‘Other’ were both South America. Sorry Canada, Sorry Africa.

Genre: Non-fiction 14,  Literature  44, General 43, SF  21, Crime/Thriller 37

Year: 2010-19  67,  2000-9  25, 1960-99  37,  1900-59  17, pre-1900  13

There were 16 new releases, more than I expected, and to whatever commentary I’ve made over the past week or so I must add that Behrouz Boochani’s No Friend but the Mountains was absolutely bloody exceptional.

A lot of the US crime/thriller etc. reflects what is available from the library, but Cockburn (my fourth suburban library in ten years) have a good selection of classics and lots of ‘hard’ SF which I enjoy, though I’m probably getting near the end now. I’ve started an Audible account, so ‘all’ I have to do is hook my phone up to the truck radio, and that with Borrow Box will make a difference next year. I hope.

[Inserted later]

Posts for year: 85
Reviews: 60 (Authors Women/Male: 31/29).  Other/Journals: 25
Included in the above, I posted 14 times for AWW Gen 2 or Gen 3 Week, 6 of those were reposts or guests.
I reviewed/wrote about Indigenous writers/subjects 6 times, David Ireland 5 times.
Of the 60 books reviewed, 46 were Australian, 1 Indian, 2 Japanese, 4 US, 5 UK (and all those C19th), 1 Irish, 1 French

[end insert]

Kate W has nominated her ten best reads for the decade (here) which is more than I’m going to do, but I am willing to declare that the best Australian book published in the last ten years is The Swan Book (2013) by Alexis Wright, which will be a classic forever.

For those of you planning (well) ahead, my 70th birthday in Paris (in 2021) is off. Too hard for too many of my immediate family. A shame, because friends had already said they planned to be there.

Now, reminder time:

Australian Women Writers Gen 3 Week 12-18 Jan. 2020

Basically, we will be discussing Australian women who began writing between the World Wars. The following year, we will discuss the later Gen 3-ers who got going before the 1960s.

The themes of the Gen 3 period are: Modernism, Social Realism, Pioneering

If you need inspiration, check out the AWW Gen 3 page (here) which has an Introduction and long lists of authors, reviews, posts and related reading.

After that there’s Gen 4, my and Sue and Lisa’s generation, the Baby Boomers, and then Gen 5. Kate W, Kimbofo what’s your lot called? We should have some good ideas about how to define the literature that was being written as we became young adults. Write and tell me what you think. I actually can’t name a lot of Gen 4 women off the top of my head – Helen Garner definitely, but then …

I think (now anyway) that Gen 5 will begin with Grunge in the early 1990s. So Justine Ettler, Linda Javin (who’s actually a baby boomer), Nikki Gemmell.

It’s probably hard to pick a new generation while it’s actually getting underway, but I think Gen 6 may have started in the last few years with the rise to prominence of  dystopian.Lit typefied by The Natural Way of Things.

And where does Indig.Lit fit in?  Anita Heiss, Alexis Wright, Kim Scott have been going for longer than just a few years, so they’re more than just Gen 6. There are some who claim that they are separate from Aust.Lit. That’s possible, and maybe up to them, but Ellen van Neerven and Claire Coleman for instance would seem to be also very much mainstream Gen 6 by my definition – but of course, the trend to dystopian is world-wide.

Happy New Year!

Currently ‘Reading’ (for AWW Gen 3 Week):

Drusilla Modjeska, Exiles at Home
Myrtle Rose White, No Roads Go By
Ernestine Hill, The Great Australian Loneliness
Daisy Bates, The Passing of the Aborigines
Dymphna Cusack, Jungfrau

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The end of a long day

What an Accountant Thinks About

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I suppose you are like me and when you get an idea for a post, if you try and write it out in your head it takes off in unexpected directions. So it was when I began spinning out What an Accountant Thinks about when he Drives a Truck, I found I was off with the fairies ‘writing’ about drugs.

As a young man, even as an anarchist university student in the sixties, I was anti drugs. I don’t care what other consenting adults do, as we used to say, but I left school with fairly Calvinist opinions about sex, drugs, and work. I won’t say any more here about Fancy, my high school girlfriend, but she had a hard time of it, and I spent years reconciling my self-image and my actions. So, drugs. There was plenty of dope and LSD around, and at a further remove, heroin. All of which I was offered, but none of which I was tempted to try.

Likewise, once I had dropped out of uni to be a truck driver (rather than a hippy – I like working) I avoided as much as possible overnight work, which, if you spend all day loading, is impossible without drugs. If I had to do Melbourne-Sydney, a constant stream of high-speed trucks on 880 kms of narrow winding road, I would either get away early, grab 3 or 4 hours sleep, and get in mid-morning, or I would take my time and get in a day late.

By the time of the accident at Bungaree, I had been an interstate driver for four years – I was an old hand, we were all in our twenties back then. Les, my employer, made me take some time off and I pottered around doing odd driving jobs out of Stawell and making desultory attempts to revive my failed marriage to the Young Bride, who with her girlfriend, was off her face on Valium.

Les finally offered me a job on the Adelaide shuttle which did a round trip Melbourne Adelaide every day with two drivers based half way at Nhill. So every lunchtime I would leave Nhill, run down to Melbourne, swap trailers, and by midnight I would be back in my company flat above a shop in the main street, while Terry, a local, went on to Adelaide, swapped trailers, and was back by lunchtime. Our old ex-Ansett Kenworth was doing 5,000 miles – 8,000 km – a week.

This went like clockwork until Terry got a council job and I was partnered with a young lunatic from nearby Horsham who wouldn’t keep the schedule, but kept pushing the changeover time back towards evening, so that I had to drive all night and he could drive during the day. I fronted him. He gave me a handfull of pills. I took them, and kept taking them for another four years. Prescription amphetamines.

I lost my Victorian licence, moved to Adelaide and eventually to Perth. The buzz of driving across Australia, through the day, through the night, for days at a time. A literal buzz. Scalp vibrating, hair standing straight up. Half a briquette, a few shakers, a small Coke (glass bottles in those days) every two hours through the night. Coffee for breakfast. Food optional.

When I met Milly I had been awake six days and was barely coherent. Even after sleep. The disconnect, that is the lag, between thought and speech was noticeable. The other disconnect I was born with. I weighed the same as I did in school, ten and a half stone (70 odd kgs. I’m not double that yet but I’m working on it). Milly and Psyche settled me down. I tried sales work. Drove a bit more. Rolled another truck, Milly pregnant with Lou. Gave it away. Bought a milk round, travelled in truck parts, started a course at Perth Tech in Transport Administration. Found I enjoyed book work and the following year enrolled in an accountancy degree at Churchlands CAE, which by the time I graduated had been subsumed into Edith Cowan Uni.

So for 20 years I worked, briefly, as an accountant, then as a transport manager. As PCs came in I slid across into software development, transport and small business systems, mostly self-employed, started an MBA, did half an MBus in Logistics which I turned into a Grad.Dip., became a partner in a container cartage business, which failed, and there I was, 22 years ago, Gee our youngest in the last year of high school, back truck driving again. Without drugs! I drive long hours, 14, 15, 16 a day, but every night, from 10.00pm to 5.00am, I’m in bed asleep.

And now of course I’m working for myself again. I have a big spreadsheet on my desktop at home, which started out recording my nights away for the taxman, and now has columns for kms, fuel, revenue and expenditure. I can tell you my revenue per km, and therefore my gross margin, is higher than I expected. I’m holding fuel down to below a dollar/km targeting fuel economy, lighter loads and discount retailers (currently the cheapest diesel in Australia is a truckstop in Ceduna in the far west of South Aust.). Tyres and repairs come in at 30c. But do I do my own tax and company accounts? No way! I pay someone who does it for a living.

I might have mentioned somewhere else I was having two weeks off for grandfather stuff while Gee was in Germany for a conference. Only as back up for Milly, but a teenager and 2 primary school age kids use up a lot of energy. As it happened, the other grandparents carried most of the load. On Friday I picked up some freight, there was a big family do Saturday, and as I was about to leave I realised I’d left it too late to borrow any audiobooks from the library. A few hours on Proj. Gutenberg and this is what I came up with –

Rider Haggard, King Solomon’s Mines
Willa Cather, Alexander’s Bridge
Joseph Conrad, The Secret Agent
George Sand, Devil’s Pool
G&W Grossmith, Diary of a Nobody
Thomas Hardy, Return of the Native
Virginia Woolf, Night and Day
Willa Cather, O Pioneer
Daniel Defoe, Moll Flanders

I’m in Melbourne now and I’ve listened to the first five, ok, four, Diary of a Nobody was both too tedious and too embarrassing to go on with. Rider Haggard was good fiction with some jarring racism; Alexander’s Bridge was brilliant but inexplicably, halfway through the reader changed from a softly spoken young American, to an older, stumbling, Australian with a genius for mis-emphasis and the book was destroyed. The Secret Agent had a different reader for every chapter, but also a different protagonist, and so the reading went ok. I’ll write it up when I get home. Devil’s Pool was the nicest love story I’ve read for years, and I’ll write it up too.

A couple of others, the chapters are coming up in the wrong order, which I hope I can fix. I might start the trip home with Woolf then go on with Hardy or Moll Flanders. We’ll see.

Recent audiobooks 

Ian Rankin (M, Sco), A Question of Blood (2003) – Crime
Graeme Simsion (M, Aus/Vic), The Rosie Result (2019)
Leo Tolstoy (M, Rus), War and Peace (1869)
Stephen White (M, USA), The Program (2002) – Thriller
Will Self (M, Eng), Shark (2014) – Literary. DNF
Mark Twain (M, USA), The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (1876) – YA
David Weber (M, USA), On Basilisk Station (2004) – SF
JD Robb (F, USA), Calculated in Death (2013) – Crime/SF

Currently reading

Charlotte Wood, The Weekend
Lionel Wigmore, The Long View
Jessica Anderson, Tirra Lirra by the River
Marie Munkara, Every Secret Thing
Peter Goldsworthy, Wish
Heather Rose, Bruny
AB Paterson, An Outback Marriage
Walter Scott, Waverley
David Ireland, The Flesheaters

Brona’s AusReadingMonth Bingo

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Brona’s AusReadingMonth Bingo, November 2019

Australian reading bingo’s in the past, I have dealt with by waiting until the end of the period in question and then filling the squares with books I have read during the previous 12 months. On that basis, this is as close as I could go today to filling in Brona’s Bingo card (by setting, rather than by home state of author), and closer than I expected:

NT     Alexis Wright, Tracker (here)
Tas    Krissy Kneen, Wintering (here)
SA
Vic    Peggy Frew, Islands  (here)
Free Claire Coleman, The Old Lie (here)
WA    Alice Nannup, When the Pelican Laughed (here)
Qld    Anne Gambling, The Drover’s De Facto (here)
NSW David Ireland, The Unknown Industrial Prisoner (here)
ACT   TAG Hungerford, The National Game (short story here)

I chose Claire Coleman for “Free” because I got to it first, but as I scanned my reviews I must say I was tempted by Behrouz Boochani, No Friend but the Mountains (here) and Rosaleen Love, The Total Devotion Machine (here). I’m sorry about the empty SA. The last I can remember reading, and I recommend it, is Cassie Flanagan Willanski’s, Here Where We Live (here) from 2016. Though I did review Joseph Hawdon’s Journal of a Journey from NSW to Adelaide (in 1837) a year and a week ago (here).

Brona made a list of suggestions for non-fiction (it’s apparently also Non fiction November) and for poetry. I could, surprisingly!, get half way round the country with poetry (by going back more than one year):

NT
Tas
SA
Vic     Allan Wearne, The Nightmarkets  (here)
Free
WA    Green & Kinsella, False Claims of Colonial Thieves (here)
Qld
NSW  Alison Whittaker, Blakwork (here)
ACT   

and probably more than halfway with Indigenous authors, Science Fiction, and maybe even Journals. But here is a suggested reading list, because it fits in with the general theme of this blog, for Pre-1950s Women:

NT    Mrs Aeneas Gunn, We of the Never Never
Tas   Tasma, What an Artist Discovered in Tasmania (short story, here)
SA     Catherine Helen Spence, Mr Hogarth’s Will (here)
Vic    Eve Langley, The Pea Pickers  (here)
Free Catherine Martin, An Australian Girl (here)
WA    Katharine Susannah Prichard, Working Bullocks
Qld    Rosa Praed, Lady Bridget in the Never Never Land (here)
NSW  Eleanor Dark, Waterway (here)
ACT   Miles Franklin (Brent of Bin Bin), Ten Creeks Run (here)

Yes, I had to cheat a bit with that last, but Miles’ heroes and heroines ride backwards and forwards through what later became the ACT to get from their properties to Goulburn and on to Sydney. (See also my post Miles Franklin, Canberra, the Griffins). And there’s plenty more pre-1950s women in my AWW Gen 1, Gen 2 and Gen 3 pages.

As for what I’m actually planning to read, I currently have Elizabeth Jolley’s Milk and Honey on the go (WA), I should do another David Ireland (NSW), I’ve just purchased Charlotte Woods’ Weekend, without knowing what state she’s from, and I would love to come up with another Marie Munkara (NT). Unfortunately I chose the audiobooks for my current trip without thinking about Brona, but I have listened to The Rosie Result (Vic) which I’ll review as soon as I get a day off.

 

Currently Reading:

Elizabeth Jolley, Milk and Honey
Lily Brett, Just Like That
Mike McCormack, Solar Bones

Australian Women Writers, 1930s

Australian Women Writers Gen 3 Week 12-18 Jan. 2020

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Dulcie Deamer

The title for this post is a straight steal from a post written by Whispering Gums (Sue) in 2014 (here) based on an article by Zora Cross in the Sydney Morning Herald in 1935. It is not my intention to plagiarise Sue, but rather to research the largely unknown women writers Cross lists for my Australian Women Writers Gen 3 page (here), though as it turns out, most of them are Gen 2 by age, or even Gen 1.

I was inspired to research by this line in Sue’s post:

[Daniel] Hamlyn, she says, won The Bulletin’s second novel competition, the first one having been jointly won by Katharine Susannah Prichard and M. Barnard Eldershaw.

Neither Sue nor I were able to find any other mention of Hamlyn (not by Google, the Annals of Australian Literature, nor the Oxford Companion), and I’m pretty sure (now!) that the second winner, in 1929, was Vance Palmer with The Passage. On the other hand, Zora Cross was there and should know.

Cross’s actual words are “Daniel Hamlyn, a winner in the second “Bulletin” novel competition, and a promising woman writer, is another” [of Mary Gilmore’s “discoveries”]. Who Hamlyn is will have to stay a mystery for a bit longer.

Three hours, and a few glasses of wine, later. Got it! In Trove, in a story about Vance Palmer. Second prize in 1929 went to Mrs Kay Glasson Taylor.

Final step Wikipedia. Kay Glasson Taylor’s novels “include Ginger for Pluck (published under the pseudonym “Daniel Hamline”, for young readers, 1929 … Her fiction is still read as a representation of white Australian women’s experiences of gender and race in the context of colonialism”. (Read by whom, I wonder).

Postscript. Taylor, Kay Glasson (‘David Hamline’) does get a few lines in the Oxford Companion.

The other writers Sue mentions (where I can, I list their pen names, invaluable for searching on Trove) are –

Ada Holman (1869-1949) ADB

Novelist and feminist. AKA Ada Kidgell, Marcus Malcolm, Nardoo, Myee.  “A recurring theme to her stories was tension in marriage as when a wife’s interests were suppressed or ignored, or a woman married unwillingly from economic necessity or family pressure.” Married NSW Labor politician and sometime Premier WA Holman.

Dora Wilcox (1873-1953) AustLit

Poet. NZ born and educated. A VAD (nurses’ aid) during the War.

Alice Grant Rosman (1882-1961) ADB

Published initially in Australian magazines, Bulletin, Lone Hand, Gadfly, etc. Moved to England and became a prolific and best selling author of romance fiction.

Ella McFadyen (1887-1976) People Australia

Children’s author

Vera Dwyer (1889-1967) The Australian Women’s Register, AustLit

Children’s author. Active member Fellowship of Australian Writers

Zora Cross (1890-1964) ADB

Writer of ‘sensual’ poetry, single mum, indifferent novelist, wrote about other writers.

Dulcie Deamer (1890-1972) ADB

Famous Kings Cross bohemian, actor, writer. Founding member Fellowship of Australian Writers

Nina Murdoch (1890-1976) ADB

Travel writer, reporter. Other names Madoline Brown, Manin, and as Pat founded the Argonauts on ABC radio.

Kay Glasson Taylor (1893-1998) 105! (Wiki)

AKA Daniel Hamline. Her second novel, Pick and the Duffers (1930), was called “an Australian Tom Sawyer” and was made into a movie

Helen Simpson (1897-1940) ADB

Novelist, playwright living mostly in England (married to Rolf Boldrewood’s nephew). Detective and historical fiction

Georgia Rivers (1897-1989)

Pen name of Marjorie Clark. AustLit got bolshie and wouldn’t let me see any more.

Dorothy Cottrell (1902-1957) ADB

Wheelchair-bound by polio as an infant, she and her husband were inveterate vagabonds, living in and writing about outback Australia, Dunk Island (with ‘beachcomber’ Edmund Banfield), Florida and the Carribean. Mary Gilmore wrote, “Mrs. Cottrell writes Australia as it has never been written before.”

Jessie Urquhart ()

Nothing published under that name in the years 1925-1945

see also:
Whispering Gums, 1930s, moving beyond “gumleaf” and “goanna” (here)
Whispering Gums, The novel in Australia, 1927-style, Part 1 (here)
Whispering Gums, The novel in Australia, 1927-style, Part 2 (here)