The Believer by Sarah Krasnostein

 Encounters with love, death and faith.

 

Our final book of the year, for our November meeting, was Sarah Krasnostein's The believer. The meeting was well attended, and included one of our former members, which was a lovely surprise.

 

This non-fiction work is another example of her exploring people’s lives who live on the ‘boundaries’ of the general public. In her award-winning previous book, The Trauma Cleaner she told us about Australians who have very complicated and dangerous lives due to poverty and domestic abuse, and issues with gender and mental health. In this book she investigates people in Australia and in America who are challenged by their faith in God through unusual faith ‘paths’ and by their beliefs in ghosts and UFOs, cancer sufferers with huge issues, and a woman who faced terrible domestic abuse and the legal consequences of her actions. 

 

There are 6 stories of believers interwoven into 53 chapters so the reader is constantly having to recognise and ‘accept’ the character and the circumstance of the person or people being written about. There were many ‘light bulb’ moments too where the author showed her brilliant intelligence and respect and compassion for these people and gave us insights. Most of us enjoyed it more than we expected.

 

‘In each case (ie the 6 stories), I needed to understand them, these people I found unfathomable, holding fast to faith in ideas that went against the grain of more accepted realities’. (page 2)

 

First impressions 

• I admire her writing but I found the characters challenging as I do not understand how they can believe some of the ideas expressed.
• It is well written, lots of anecdotes rather than science and the question of ‘why’, which intrigues me more. I enjoyed the autobiographical moments.
• I was not sure whether it was short stories or a monograph but thought the structure was better that way, otherwise it would have dragged if each story was sequential.
• Krasnostein is a wonderful story teller about slightly painful people such as Freddy and Rhonda. Annie, the Death Doula, is a beautiful portrayal of a woman where Krasnostein is engaging with the characters.
• The whole topic is an emotional one and we admire Krasnostein for those portrayals. There are particular characters, mainly women, who stand out, such as Lynn, who was incarcerated for many years after killing her abusive husband. Her sentence was extended unnecessarily and unfairly. The Mennonites are another interesting thread. The creation scientist, Georgia Purdom was interesting in the audio book version, as she was deaf and the reader sounded as if she was deaf reading her narrative. 
• As a former Life Line councillor I found it intensely interesting as Krasnostein has incredible insights into the philosophy and psychology of these people. I would have preferred more analysis at the conclusion (which was a preference from many of us).  
• Her observations of the human condition were excellent and her fairness and respect for some of these odd characters is admirable. 
• I found it hard going as there was no structure. I expected a thesis with examples to illustrate with an essay at the end but it wasn’t there. I liked some of the characters such as Annie and Lynn but not the creationists. One can only be amazed by people who think the Ark had little dinosaurs on it who could be vegetarian for the duration. 
• I found the book annoying but engaging. I was struck by the tragedy of Lynn, her life sentence in gaol and her resilience. Also drawn to the characters of the lost pilot, Fred, and Annie, the Death Doula. I was struck by the dissonance with the Brian Cox show which is presently being shown on ABC TV where he discounts any form of life on other planets. 
• I like to read to ‘get into’ other worlds and I found the 6 worlds completely different from mine. It was a bit patchy but I enjoyed it. The 6 subjects could be divided into 2 personal, 2 religious and 2 ‘other world’ stories. I also liked her exploration of how some people crave certainty and control, and how these ‘needs’ lead people to believe in conspiracy stories. This helped explain, for me, how some people have become susceptible to anti-vaccination propaganda etc during the pandemic. I love books which end up with questions.
• I was interested in the stories but I didn’t engage with it. I have just read the book: The tattooist of Auschwitz by Heather Morris which is an excellent read. 
• Having recently suffered a bereavement I found this book was talking to me with some of the characters, especially Katrina who is dying from cancer. I was particularly drawn to the sad story of Krasnostein’s grandmother living as a Jewish child and barely surviving the second world war. Her difficult childhood had an effect upon her daughter (Sarah’s mother) and those difficulties influenced Sarah. Sarah realises, as she's writing this book, that she 

‘… had been born into a line of missing mothers’.  (page 74). 

 

Discussion

 

There were certain characters who were amazing as we have said in our first impressions, such as Annie and Lynn. They were leading complex lives but showed resilience and strength of character in the rough and tumble. They were empowering themselves and others by their strengths and being ‘rocks’. 

 

Sarah Krasnostein’s own searching for ‘belief’ comes through. ‘If I could only ask the right questions I could understand’. You need answers but the questions are more interesting.

She gives beautiful personal insights, ‘finding a psychologist worked for me’.  So in some ways this book is a personal journey. As the author is a Jewish woman the Christians/Mennonites did not try to convert her we felt. 

 

The choir was interesting as they were united by emotions.

 

The people are so variant in the ways they see the world. I can see my own childhood in Loisann’s childhood, said one member. So there is common humanity that unites us and which is empowering. 

 

We admired the way the author is so respectful of the people she interviewed such as: Freddy’s fiancée even though the sentiments expressed by Rhonda ‘got to her’ at times; we laughed about the Buddhist monk living as a lodger in Annie’s garden; and we were amazed at the dignity of Lynn, the ex-prisoner who had suffered so much and was still so selfless. The injustices perpetrated on Lynn were concealed under disorder according to one of our members, especially see ch. 42. In 1970s America when Lynn was convicted of killing her husband, self-defence was not a permissible legal claim by a woman but it was allowed for men convicted of a murder. This was a lightbulb moment for some members.

 

We discussed the fear Mennonites expressed of education, especially higher education. It poses a threat to their understanding of the world, and particularly of the Bible. See especially chapter 40.

 

‘Anthony’s conflict comes from the fact that the certainties he received instead of education are poor tools for daily living …’ (page 258).

 

And 

 

‘Theology always scares me because it takes the things that seem simple and makes them complex.’ (page 259)

 

Ms Krasnostein also comments on the Mennonite’s naivety such as exhibited by the Krieder family. They had no idea that families could be homeless in New York so easily. It is as if they are living on a separate planet. They have no concept of the people’s lives living nearby and  no understanding of the structural inequities faced by these folk. See particularly pages 313-314.

 

We talked at some length about the structure of this book. The criss-cross of the stories made it harder to get into but we also wondered whether it would have been boring or at least not as interesting if each story was written straight through. One reader found the spook parts less integrating than the ‘ufologists’. 

 

We all admired her writing style, with one member describing it as quite poetic in places.

 

The stories are based on fact as shown by the story of Fred, the young pilot who went missing. Internet searches will produce the details just as Krasnostein relates them.

 

We decided that the apparent alien spacecraft was probably just an illusion created by the light or some other banal explanation.

 

Human beings seek meaning in life and sometimes we look for patterns, which is why the US government has just announced a new UFO office to be set up to examine various sightings of unexplained objects in the sky.   

  

We decided that if Sarah Krasnostein had analysed the characters according to psychology, it would have been a very different type of book from the one we read. In this work the reader takes a journey and respects the characters no matter what we think of their ideas and life styles.

 

One member mentioned Roger Ailes who worked for Fox news and was influential in their portrayal of ‘facts’ for many years. Some of the people in this book want certainty, which suggests they would be influenced by news channels such as Fox which portray the world in simplistic black and white terms. 

 

We also talked a little about seances and how people can be convinced of things which are not true – eg moving of the board or trying to find answers. People want certainty. 

 

Belief is fascinating – such as a belief in ufos and aliens. 

 

We found Krasnostein’s account of her grandmother’s and mother’s relationship and her own connection to these women so affected by being Jewish and living through the second world war revealing. The author herself is searching for answers just like her interviewees  (pp. 71-73).

 

In talking about the Creation Museum we liked the quoting of Hannah Arendt – knowledge for thought, converting fact into meaning, but truth isn’t meaning. 

 

‘To sit in the lecture is to experience a great untethering from what Hannah Arendt called the “human world”. …shared world of stable processes, laws and institutions which create the conditions for social negotiations and the pursuit of common goals…’ (pp. 43- 45)

 

An unusual book but quite pertinent to our present times.

Book recommendations

Just one book came up this month: The believing brain by Dr Michael Shermer.  The recommender felt it was an excellent book which explains how beliefs are born. It sounds very pertinent to our times. 

 

Present: 10 plus our special guest.

One hundred years of dirt by Rick Morton

With COVID-19 social isolation in force, Minervans decided to meet via WhatsApp. Our discussion was therefore a ‘written’ one, and so is unlike any other normal bookclub meeting we have had.

Our book was Rick Morton's memoir One hundred years of dirt, which included essays on life in the Australian outback and our society’s attitudes to poverty, class, equality and family. As one member said ‘he used his life to explore ideas that he thinks are important.’

This ‘genre-bending’ memoir was published in 2018. Morton spent his early years on a cattle station near Mount Hewitt, Queensland. He and his older brother Toby and their parents lived a reasonable life for a few years until an awful accident occurred when Toby was severely burnt all over his body.

Deborah Morton and baby daughter flew with Toby to hospital in Brisbane and from that day on their family life was never the same. Rick and his father were left behind, and as their relationship was not caring before this accident, they both suffered great trauma being separated from Rick’s Mum. Rick’s Dad, Rodney was a product of a destructive father-son relationship.

Subsequently Rick and his siblings left the property and lived with their impoverished mother in a small town (Gympie?) outside Brisbane. Rick won a scholarship to Bond University and a cadetship at The Australian newspaper and eventually he has made a life for himself as a gay man happily living in Sydney working as a journalist. He is still racked by trauma and guilt about his early life and the life of his brother and mother. He also suffers guilt because his life is relatively well-endowed with money, education and promise.

The memoir not only includes details of family life but also Rick’s thinking and analysis of Australian society. It includes his thoughts on living in poverty, class attitudes, loneliness and questions of equality.

First impressions from our group

• Gritty, uncompromising, honest, lots to ponder
• Energetic discussion of big issues
• Tough, raw, painful but compassionate, some funny bits
• Searing moving memoir, hard scrabble, class and gender divides
• Violent toxic masculinity, raw female perseverance, analytical
• Intergenerational poverty and violence
• Bit chaotic, needs edit
• Fierce, compassionate, clear sighted, engrossing, loved its myth shattering themes
• Destroys bush resilience stereotyping
• Bravely written, shocking, sad, illuminating, loved it
• Too many themes all jumbled together
• Loved the language

The ensuing discussion

Structure

It has an interesting structure reflecting where he was in 2018 when it was published (aged 32). Some members didn’t like the way Morton jumps around but others liked it once they understood what he was doing. Others felt it was in a reflection and essay convention rather than a true memoir.

One member said, ‘This memoir in essay form isn’t linear but tight within that form. I think he had a great way of writing with digressions and it is basically chronological. I loved how each chapter had a theme.’

Another member disagreed ‘What we read could be a first draft for an even more powerful book – it jumped around too much.’ ‘It went off on tangents but all related to specific topics at the time’. One member felt some of the diversions detracted from the strength of his story.

Masculinity

Rick wrote well about the intergenerational trauma from father and son down three generations at least which his family has experienced and is still experiencing.

We all agreed that Rick is a hero. He is same age as many of our spoilt ‘children’ but one who has had to live through so much in comparison to our kids.

There is a horrifying level of "machismo" shown by his father and grandfather. It ruined their lives and the lives of their children ultimately. For instance, Toby is very like father Rodney and shows similar characteristics and self-destructiveness. Rick also went through a suicidal period in his life and took drugs to help kill the pain.

We had a short discussion about epigenetics. For more discussion of epigenetics see Wikipedia.

Nature and nurture are both vitally important in the life of a child.

So Rick’s idea of the outback Queenslander guy is not Crocodile Dundee – there is no softness in their violence. These guys are still bullying and killing women and gay men even in the 21st century.

The trauma of their childhoods and ongoing effects live with them throughout their lives and this environment made Rick escape. He is not like them. He is not like his father or his brother or his extended family. He is gay and educated and sensitive and caring about the females in his life. He would also like to be loved. This is closely linked to his sexuality too.

Gay and trans people

Sadly, gay and trans people have a record of self loathing and self harm when coming out. This is especially true for country kids. So Rick’s suicidal actions may have been partly due to being gay as well as everything else going on in his young life.

Poverty and class

There are lots of US studies on brain development of poor kids. They are measured from age 1, and show that they are behind from the beginning of their lives.

One member felt that the novel's main theme was a question of equality. So many people believe hard work will still get you rewards, but near the end of chapter 1, Morton states

the single experience of my sister’s road to this point detonates the argument that equality of opportunity is stitched into our nationhood. (Page 10)

Another member said he was strong about equality but was not sure where he was going with it.

Rick Morton challenges his readers to care about the poor and the disadvantaged.

Deborah, his mother

We discussed her for quite a while. Most members admired her resilience and her strength. ‘I thought she was amazing and gave her full credit’ for bringing up the children. They also thought she was long-suffering, heroic and loving. They loved her story that Rick is an alien and one day he would be recalled to the mother ship. One member quoted Rick's comment that Deb used the alien story as a way of not taking credit for the love and support she had given Rick.

Rick is caring and loyal to his mother. One member disagreed that his mother was quite so wonderful. She felt that Deborah was jealous of Rick’s life and education, and that she was sad that she had made wrong decisions about her life and was/is unable to grow as Rick has done.

Rick is very protective of his mother’s opinions, for example, about climate change. He feels that she is too busy putting food on the table to worry about such esoteric matters. Many members agreed with this proposition and felt for her. Poor people don’t have time to be ‘woke’. This is just so important to realise. I liked his Mum’s pragmatic approach to politics.

(I don’t agree – rich and poor alike can educate themselves if they want to in the 21st century.)

It was also felt that Rick’s Mum is similar to the women in Pachinko (see our review).

Toby

Rick’s older brother. He has always challenged life. He would not listen to Rick‘s sensible advice even when he was much younger and it was as if the two boys came from different families. We agreed that many of our kids are different too but maybe not quite so much.

Toby processes trauma differently from Rick. We felt that Rick’s depiction of the spur of the moment decisions that some young men make was good. ‘These guys skate close to disaster and sometimes it works and sometimes it does not’. Rick writers:

It’s the Faustian drama that punctures the lives of anybody who loves. (page 79)

Rick

Is he slightly autistic? The general opinion is that he isn’t but he certainly likes analysis and statistics. One member thought he is just being an old-style journalist using evidence.

Rick also doesn’t have any inhibitions about asking questions and stepping into traumatic situations because he doesn’t have any middle class ‘manners’. He isn’t preachy. He is also very honest.

He did suffer mental health issues. We thought that his reflections on memory were very apt. He is very open about the process he is going through to reconstruct the memories of his family history and his understanding of it.

Some members thought there were some funny stories in there amidst the other, such as the stories about the horse’s teeth and the attitudes to shooting pigs, and also the fence fight between Rick's grandfather and his brother.

We felt he was angry writing this book but he still had lots of compassion towards his family. One member said that ‘He still needed his Dad’s approval even though he was unlikely to achieve it. It’s an elemental thing needing a parent’s love.’

Bond University

When I went to University in 2005 I was the first of 21 cousins on my father’s side and a third of 10 on my mother’s side. As the nation moved towards a knowledge class, the Mortons doubled down in their suspicion of it. (page 156)

One member thought that Uni life was the equivalent for Rick to Toby’s struggles with drugs. They both bore a different cross. The University life separated him from his family and mother in particular but then it became an important thread in their relationship. Rick is still grief-stricken over his brother and mother.

The question of what separates my brother and I has haunted me for the better part of a decade. (page 96)

One member admired his courage (while still at Uni) nicking off to Singapore to witness the hanging of the young Vietnamese Australian.’

Journalism

Having a member who was a journalist gave us insights into this career. Rick was lucky to win a cadetship at The Australian. Our member who also worked there said it was a really tough place and ‘felt sorry for the news hacks’. The Commentariat elites got all the attention.

Most journalists are middle class now and don’t understand those from poor or violent backgrounds. We felt there was a similarity here with the author Trent Dalton (Boy swallows universe - see our review), who is also a young Queenslander working for The Australian. Dalton is still there but Morton has moved on to a decidedly left-wing paper now (The Saturday paper). He is also an occasional guest on The Drum on ABC Television.

One member thought Rick’s analysis of journalists is spot on. There are quotas for women, Catholics and private school types in the employ of the media. Most are now graduates from educated families. ‘Poor bloke working at The Oz surrounded by the right-wing elite. He must have been angry enough to write a book. He needed to redeem his mother.’

Conclusion

We wondered how his family felt about the book. In an interview Morton said that his brother hadn’t read it but his mother liked it.

We all agreed that Rick Morton is incredibly open and honest in this ‘memoir’.

Rick explodes a number of myths about the great outdoor bloke.  As one member concluded, ‘Trent and Rick have given us a peek into what many kids live with that we have no idea about’.

Members present: 10

Les Murray and his poetry

This will be a different sort of blog – we all read some Les Murray but not the same material. Also it is not possible to differentiate Les Murray from his poetry. He wrote it all his life and the subjects are his life and his environment.

We began the discussion with his obituaries. He died on 29 April 2019 and there were numerous obituaries in the press. The Economist obituary called him the ‘bard for the left-out’. 

This is a well-written obit and we felt the writer was trying to emulate the poetry of the subject.

Les Murray was a child of very impoverished parents who had settled ‘on’ Bunyah as dairy farmers. The district is inland from Taree, on the mid north coast of New South Wales. His parents were always poor. So his early childhood was hard but the death of his mother when he was 10 made it even harder. His father was not equipped to bring up a child who had different aspirations and ideas from the folk around him. Murray was bullied from a young age due to his physical characteristics and his intelligence. Cecil Murray his father, was a very hard man who had had a difficult childhood himself.

Some years ago a number of members heard Murray read at ANU when he was accompanied by our local poet Geoff Page and were surprised by how ordinary and low key he presented himself. However there was an intensity in his elocution which comes through in many of his poems.

 His religiosity was something that was important to discuss as it affected his life from the time of his marriage to his Catholic wife, Valerie. He had met her at Sydney University and she was ‘saintly’ and kept him for much of his life. She was a teacher and she allowed him to devote himself to his ‘calling’.

According to ‘On Bunyah’ (a small non-fiction collection of his poems) the area he lived in was largely Protestant but in the strictest sense of the Uniting Church (Methodism?) So becoming a Catholic at a fairly young age was a radical step in the 1960s. As an older man he became interested in ‘transcendence in doctrine’ in his search for meaning?

At University, Murray was friendly with the famous intellectuals – Clive James, Germaine Greer and Bob Ellis - although he was only on the edge of that grouping. Murray was not a ‘joiner’ and didn’t want to be part of any group or elite as he always felt on the outer. Girls were attracted to him as he was brainy and had a great presence. But Valerie was different as she was European. She was also very long-suffering we believe.

Murray was rewarded with many prizes for his poetry during his lifetime but was not successful in winning the Nobel in 1994. Murray won a T S Eliot prize and we felt that there were some similarities in their approach to Christianity as they became older and wiser – looking for a similar pathway and a clear doctrine. Murray was not looking at rituals or god though. He was influenced by the English religious poet, Gerald Manley Hopkins. They both had a passion for the natural world and hated the establishment and the elites. Curiously, Murray hated the Australia Council even though he had received grants from them.

Three members had read a very sympathetic biography of Murray entitled Les Murray by Peter Alexander. There were differing opinions on whether this biography was authorized or not.  In this book there is mention of the ongoing guilt Murray felt (for most of his life) because his mother died due to a lack of treatment for a miscarriage. 

This guilt and the lack of love and attention from his father could have ground down a young person but Murray was exceptionally talented. He did however, suffer severe depression sporadically through his life, partially attributable to his early years. These mental problems showed in his treatment of his own children. He and Valerie had 5 children. He also did not relate to other people well and that was partly due to his severely restricted childhood and his school experiences. Possibly also due to autism?

Murray was always a vulnerable person but had amazing survival skills. He was exceptionally talented but also fraught.

He also had a fear of sex due to his mother’s tragic death and his internalising of the reasons for her passing. This wound could never really heal. Many of these vulnerabilities are written about in an article called : Killing the black dog. There is more information about this publication at Black Inc.

We were all impressed to hear that he spoke numerous European languages and actually worked as a translator at ANU for a period after having taught himself these skills. Quite an astonishing talent. (Murray didn’t like Canberra, he found it a boring place.)

One member was reticent to read Murray although she had had the exceptional luck to meet him and have a meal with him. They were both children of dairy farmers so had something in common to talk about. This member found him unpretentious. One other member has a very good friend whose mother had taught Les Murray at school and recognized his talents. She had promoted the radical idea of Murray attending university.

Les Murray has been considered one of Australia’s greatest poets for many years and this shows not only in the number of awards he received but also in the number of poems printed in Australian anthologies. Judith Wright is the only other poet who comes near in quantity of publication.

We read and discussed some of his poems, for example:

She gave me her factual tone,her facial bones, her will,
not her beautiful voice …  (From ‘Weights’ which was written as a memorial to his mother – Miriam Murray 1915-1951)

Archie was a gun to shoot at biplanes
and an uncle I missed meeting …(From 'The blame')

Poor Auntie Mary was dying and frail ……Lived ten more years…From ‘The Iron Kitchens’

(These poems and many more can be found in On Bunyah (Collingwood, Black Inc, 2017).

Another notable poem is ‘Dog, fox, field’. These words were devised to assist teachers in assessing children for school, that is, if they could make a sentence out of them or not.

One member thought a poem called ‘A torturer’s apprentice’ went to the core of what he was trying to say with his poetry. And, unusually this poem has rhyme unlike many of the others we read.

We realised that Murray had many styles and many ways of writing poetry -- from the set stanza to lines with gaps in the middle eg in ‘Layers of Pregnancy’ so it is hard to know if you are reading it correctly. He also used Gaelic at times such as in ‘The Iron Kitchens’ and he also wrote as a cow in one memorable and poignant poem – ‘The Cows on Killing Day’ – ‘All me are standing on feed

All me have just been milked…’

Murray himself felt poets should not be slavish to the norms of poetry. So he wasn’t.

His poetry was the opposite of platitudes – too complex and covering difficult subjects such as dealing with the underdog, the personality most like Murray himself ?

Murray worked as an editor for Quadrant for a time and performed his works overseas. He always had a strong political voice and spoke about the situation of Australia’s First Nation people. He was probably appreciated more overseas than he has been in Australia. We still have some cultural cringe.

This inspired night has encouraged members to research Les Murray and find out about this well known but not well read poet. Everyone had done considerable work to add to our enjoyment and knowledge of Murray. One member even went to the NLA to do her research. It was a learning curve for all of us but well worth the education.

For more information about Les Murray’s life see Manning Community News.

Present : 8 members

Anita Heiss' Growing up Aboriginal in Australia

This challenging book highlights the racism prevalent in Australia both in the past and the present. It is the stories of 50 people who have had it ‘tough’ by non-Indigenous standards.  The writings are by young and old as well as males and females from all across Australia. Some of the writers are well known but many are not. It includes anecdotes, experiences, childhood fears and a few happy times. It also includes the story of a young woman, Alice Either (only 29), who suicided. The book is dedicated to her and others ‘who were lost too soon’.

Many of the stories talk about identity and not fitting into Australian society; they also talk about education and recognition of their otherness and their Aboriginality. They share a great pride in being Indigenous and having access to such a long lasting culture.

As always, we started with …

First impressions

• Lots of themes, but feelings of sadness and grief
• Very glad to have read it.
• Repetitive stories, and even boring at times
• Feelings of positive strength expressed by many contributors.
• Triumph against the odds.
• Questions of whether you are Indigenous or Australian – too white in some circumstances and too dark at other times or venues – frequent mention of this problem
• Comments made about colour by both non-Indigenous people and Indigenous people themselves.
• Genuine humility felt by some.
• Not everything that happens relates to someone’s race, sometimes it is just ‘stuff’ about kids growing up and especially through their teenage years – it can be good and bad for any child, eg parents passing, domestic violence or poverty.
• Some stories very ‘touching’.
• Certain earnestness to many of the stories.
• ‘I melted’ when the author talked about country and how they appreciated their custodianship of country rather than ownership.
• Quite a small group of people contributed – all highly articulate and these were selected from 120 submissions sent in – only a small selection of views but lots of common elements.
• Stolen generation stories particularly sad and challenging
• Happy childhoods relatively eg Adam Goodes and Patrick Johnson

General discussion

There was a lot of discussion of colour. During their childhoods some writers were accused of being too white to be Aboriginal. These people felt hurt by comments like that.  Many of the writers have one parent non-Indigenous and one Indigenous.  Interestingly, many of the white parents were Irish. There is a lovely story by Miranda Tapsell about being a Spice girl fan. She was designated by others to be Scary Spice for a dress up party but her favourite was Baby Spice.  However Miranda is amazingly tolerant by saying :

‘Poor Sissy, she was conditioned like all of us to believe brown people could only be Scary’. (page 235)

Tolerance is a common thread through these texts.

We were saddened by the poem by Alice Eather. It is so sad that she died.

We were impressed that many contributors were willing to share their stories, trying to overcome stereotyping of Aboriginal people who have to contend with drugs and domestic violence. There is a realisation that they are similar people to us but they often have to make a conscious effort to find out where they come from. Dislocation was a common theme and it has had a very physical and emotional toll upon many of the writers. The question of handouts received by these people was often very insensitive. They are Australians but they have complicated lives. We questioned ourselves and other non-Indigenous people about our reactions to these stories. Ignorance and lack of empathy is behind much of the racism. Also people not choosing to find out more. 

There are stories of some positive discrimination too. A few writers were awarded scholarships to schools, universities and a sporting academy.

There is a terrifying story by Kerry Reed-Gilbert entitled: "The little town on the railway track". The crux of the story is quite horrific. At night a group of non-Indigenous men try to frighten and intimidate Kerry’s mother and siblings, but the town policeman is about the most racist person present. Fortunately, Kerry’s Mum is strong and forthright; she contacts the policeman’s boss and he is sent elsewhere.

The stories by stolen generation people or their descendants were very sad and very moving. So we relished the good stories such as that told by Adam Goodes highlighting simple pleasures such as trying out different types of sport. He is a marvellous role model, in mentioning hard work and a good work ethic, as well as loving what you do and having fun. (p103)

Pride in being Aboriginal is a strength of this book. Much pride is shown of parents and grandparents in many families who were leaders in their communities. Many also value highly their mothers and grandmothers who often were their sole parent. These women were wonderful role models.

We were impressed by the different perspectives as they came from many backgrounds including those of domestic abuse, drugs and violence. The writers' willingness to share their perspective is admirable.  Some of their backgrounds were disjointed but this also happens in the non-Indigenous community. White society is still too ready to rely on stereotyping Indigenous people.

Overall it seems that for younger Indigenous people, life is getting better than it was for their forbears. 

Deborah Cheetham’s story was fascinating. She was brought up in a white family. We really liked her story about trying to make the national anthem more applicable to all Australians.

Another common theme is resilience. It is a character feature that writers felt was essential for living in Australia. The parents often stressed it and emphasised that you just have to keep going and be brave. Developing a ‘shell’ helps.   

Another thread was knowing you are Indigenous but hiding it because it is embarrassing, but as you age accepting it so maturity helps. This is happens in migrant lives in Australia too.

There was one ‘story’ many of us found very difficult to understand – Alison Whittacker’s  Aboriginemo. Alison is a Gomeroi poet and lawyer from the Tamworth Gunnedah region of NSW. She writes in this manner as she wants readers to ponder her words. See her interview by Suburban review, April 28, 2016.

A couple of members had Aboriginal children in their classes at school, in Mt Isa and in country Victoria.  One member has worked with groups assisting Indigenous people with their financial issues. But the majority of us have had little contact.

This book was suggested by a member who wanted to read it. We were all pleased that we had read it too.

There is an audible version of this book newly available.

Present: 9 members

Stan Grant's Talking to my country

It is a particularly pertinent time for Minervans to be reading this challenging work.  Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people’s issues have been much in the news in the last few days: knockback of their idea of a consultative assembly by the Federal government,  their banning of climbing Uluru from 2019, and in the ‘Conversation’ recently an article on a project to correct a huge omission in the Australian Dictionary of Biography by the addition of many articles about prominent Indigenous members of Australian society since 1788.

Before we started discussing Stan’s book we were shown the literary site called: Writing black.  Edited by Ellen van Neerven, this anthology was developed by the black&write! Indigenous writing and editing project at the State Library of Queensland. We were also encouraged to visit the current exhibition at the NMA called Songlines: Tracking the Seven sisters—a journey into the heart of Australia.

Stan Grant’s polemic is that Aboriginal people have faced a very tough life in the last two hundred years and are still finding it extremely difficult in 21st century Australia. He is a proud Wiradjuri man from Western NSW (ie. Canowindra and region). He discusses his life, his parent’s and grandparent’s struggles with poverty, as well as his teachings and thoughts about his own son’s appreciation of his Aboriginal heritage. He discusses the great hardship and discrimination suffered by his father and grandfather in particular. He remembers fondly his paternal grandmother (a white woman) who struggled greatly with poverty but was always very loving. He intersperses his family history with ponderings on Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australian history and discusses the many assumptions held by the European society since 1788.

The main assumptions:

• Aborigines and Torres Strait islanders would die out in the 19th century
• Modern Aborigines should just ‘move on and forget their history’
• There was aggression between Aborigines and the invaders from the beginning and his Wiradjuri and Kamilaroi people are still fighting a battle against injustices but it has not been properly recognised by non-Indigenous Australians
• Aboriginal love of country is a dominating feature in Stan’s life (as it is for most Indigenous people), no matter where he is in the world.  
• Lack of formal recognition that Indigenous people have lived here for over 60,000 years is still an issue
• Aborigines have to accept non Indigenous people as they are so few and have no choice (see page 6)

The book is divided into 10 chapters (and unfortunately they are not labelled by theme). There is a structure, however some of us found it hard to categorise. It is not chronological as he has already written a memoir called: The tears of strangers. Here is a review. 

Grant’s book is a challenge to read as it made many of us very angry with our ancestor’s treatment of Indigenous people. However racism is still active in 2017 Australia and we all felt very emotional when he talks about the shocking incident in 2015 when the footballer Adam Goodes’ suffered constant ‘abuse and humiliation until he could take no more’ (page 5).  We spent a little time discussing this incident and Goodes’ treatment.

Many of the group discussed incidents where they too had seen open displays of racism against Aborigines. One member made us realise that there is a terrible antagonism held by some Australians who cannot tolerate hearing anything about Aborigines or their issues. Overseas, people are more interested in Aboriginal life in modern Australia but there is great resistance here.

Another member working in a government department has recently done a course in cultural awareness of Indigenous issues and she drew our attention to the ‘sorry’ speech by Kevin Rudd and how that was a significant step in reconciliation. Many Aboriginal people are prepared to forgive us – they do not want to blame us. However that is often not the view of some Australians. Canberrans possibly react in a different way about this issue, possibly because we are more educated.

Stan’s book reminded us of the many other books and speeches over the last 25 years which talk about some of these issues. Such as Carmel Bird’s The stolen generation their stories which is based on the report, Bringing them home.  Also we were reminded of John Howard’s refusal to apologise to the stolen generation and Kim Beazley’s approach – for instance see this ABC report.

We also briefly talked about Eddie Mabo and the 1992 decision: ‘The judgments of the High Court in the Mabo case recognised the traditional rights of the Meriam people to their islands in the eastern Torres Strait. The Court also held that native title existed for all Indigenous people in Australia prior to the establishment of the British Colony of New South Wales in 1788.’

One member has recently been reading Robert Hughes’ Fatal shore and the impact of the convicts on Aborigines and their lifestyle. It was pretty devastating to say the least.

I talked about our recent interaction with the Adnyamathanha people of the Flinder’s Ranges and our enjoyment and education from them in the welcome to country ceremonies and the tours we attended. The welcome to country is becoming much more accepted and recognised as part of normal beginnings of meetings at universities and other institutions too.

Many members had stories to tell of their interactions with Aboriginal people. Some of the memories evoked are not good, such as memories of humpies in the 1960s. Others are more positive, such as a lady known by Deb who was a warm and friendly person in Deb’s early life in country New South Wales.

One difficult idea was raised by a member who mentioned that writer Kim Scott is worried about books in Aboriginal languages. He is worried that the languages may be appropriated by non-Indigenous writers, representing another dispossession. However non-Indigenous scholars and researchers have been working in this area since the beginning of white settlement.

We all admired the language used by Grant in this book. He is angry but the language is not unreasonable. He is trying to explain his emotions in the simplest way possible so that all Australians can understand his feelings. On the dust jacket it states: ‘the book that every Australian should read’. That is a difficult aim for any writer.

We particularly discussed some of the points raised by Grant on page 148:

how many times have I heard that we should forget our history and move on ?…Long term conflict may never have been a viable option for us and this country has been spared the internecine warfare of other lands, but the impact on us is no less real ... I grew to understand that conflict doesn’t end when the guns stop, that its legacy is passed through the generations. 

(This is Epigenetics according to one member.)

Such terrible injustices were suffered by some Aborigines, such as losing their families and even their identity through being part of the stolen generations and taken to missionary establishments and other institutions.

We also discussed some of the present day challenges for Aborigines such as poor hearing and how that impacts upon their whole lives – often preventing them from a good education and subsequent jobs and satisfactory lives.

A difficult read because of the subject matter but very worthwhile.

Position doubtful by Kim Mahood

This month a select group of Minervans read the memoir, Position doubtful. We greatly enjoyed Kim’s writing. It has such fascinating and thoughtful passages on cross-cultural thinking.  We agreed that the general public’s acceptance of Australia’s Indigenous culture is taking a very long time.

We were reminded of a story by Mahood in 'The invisible thread' which …describes herself being in community and being responsible for providing assets/transport/facilities for others. Another book we thought of in relation to this memoir is Bill Gammage’s The biggest estate on Earth, how Aborigines made Australia.

Position doubtful is a combination of memoir, Aboriginal history, European history, Indigenous languages versus English, art of both cultures, geography of north western Australia  (WA and NT) and a story of her relationships with the people she grew up with.  It has many threads and it combines them with lyrical passages of description and philosophy.

Some of the themes discussed by Mahood and by us:

• maps and landscapes, and interrelationships between the two
• maps and different perspectives
• maps and art - for instance with grids overlaying
• maps and language – abstraction and metaphor  
• horizon lines and perspectives – First nation people look at the horizon in art very differently from westerners (eg the paintings in the Canning Stock Route exhibition at the NMA some years ago and works from this region held at the NGA)

The mapping impulse was likely one of the drivers of human cultural evolution; and maps, the physical expression of that impulse, come to us freighted with the wonder of burgeoning human consciousness.’ (in chapter (Mapping common ground -- 63% in the kindle) 

(I have never thought about maps in this way—she is quite brilliant!)

As well as learning about these ‘map’ and ‘art’ matters we also learnt a lot about Mahood, herself.

Kim Mahood is very honest by stating her motivation for writing this book is to tell of her experiences working with the local people of the region where she grew up – near the Tanami Desert and the Aboriginal communities of Balgo and Mulan (East Kimberley).

Mahood is an artist in painting terms as well as a writer but can also play the subject occasionally. We discussed her slightly passive aggressive attitude to her friend Pam who ‘used’ Kim as the model in her arty photographs. She had to play a role in the desert as Violet, but she felt that she was a ‘female impersonator …  feminised self who has never existed’ (30%) or as a strange creature (eg covered in red mud). This is not Mahood’s persona at all – completely opposite actually. She much prefers the stockman’s role rather than the farmer’s wife and domesticity.

Mahood has been visiting this region for short sojourns (about 3 months) for over 20 years working, with the local people (especially the elders), offering help with their art or their lives in any way she can. (In her first celebrated book – Craft for a dry lake-- she describes the difficult return to her former home after about 20 years away.) The life up there is in strong contrast to the life we imagine she lives near Canberra as an artist, writer and teacher. Having grown up in this outback community she has certain rights that are advantageous for her work, such as deep knowledge of the culture and a depth in her relationships, including having a genuine skin name from her childhood.  Her skin name of Naparrula is precious for her and the locals. She acquired it as a baby: 'I belong to the skin group with traditional links to Tanami Downs.’ (Chapter Vertigo, 10% ). Such benefits help her navigate the politics of the community. Sometimes the community is very confronting even for a person who grew up nearby and knows the tensions and problems. She is understated in the book about these issues, but it is very clear that there are retribution and violence issues present frequently.

We discussed how Native Title has brought tensions with it, while everybody tries to work out the parameters of ownership. In this Mahood never labours the point. An ongoing issue one of our members mentioned is hearing impairment and the difficulties and problems for children. She has knowledge through her work of this ongoing health, educational and social issue in remote areas of Australia.

Mahood has the right to discuss the environment (in the social sense) because of her affinity with the local people but also because she told them she was writing this book and she actually read out bits of it to them. They obviously trust her and rely on her. (My conclusion is that we can rely on her being accurate in her writing.) We also realized that she is a strong woman – just driving that far by herself in worn out vehicles is testament to that. She is not a pushover in regard to the local larrikins and what they expect of her.

She writes of a visit to Sturt Creek . She initially thinks only a few people will travel with her and it ends up being a huge number. However she copes.

Mahood also talks a lot about tragedies and sadnesses. She mentions the massacre and many deaths of the local people she knows well. She was particularly close to many of the older women and is distressed by the deaths of these friends. Many of these women she knew as a child and she has a deep affection for them. She describes them and their families with great sensitivity, explaining that many of these women are elders in the community and take responsibility for passing on culture and language to the young ones. These women are also the strong ones in the community with a fierce determination to improve lives. White culture needs to own up to the truth of these stories of massacre and violence.

However Mahood does not dwell on these matters for too long but regards them unsentimentally.

We also discussed briefly how Mahood introduces archeology to some of the local people by telling them about the scientific work done by archeologists such as Jim Bowler. She invites him to visit Mulan and ‘to travel gathering and recording both scientific and traditional information’. (31%) Mahood is farsighted in bringing the two views together. Bowler had done some exploring in the seventies in this region so was aware of the possibilities. (See also chapter Dotting the grid, 67%).

 

We also discussed the differences she observes with the properties now being managed by Aboriginal groups in comparison with the old days of white pastoralists.  Her former home is one such place. It is now called Tanami Downs not ‘Mongrel station’. Managing the country depends so much on personal qualities and skills.

We also discussed the irony of the title – it relates to how white people feel in that remote part of Australia, as well as how many of the local inhabitants feel, and as a position on a map. (Its literal geographic meaning is mentioned in her first book in a more mundane way.)

Another comment made was that Mahood experiences landscape at a physiological level. Place can enter one’s psyche. How do we relate to place? Some people love the desert and others love the sea. Do we as white Australians have the right to love a place where other people live and have always lived? We don’t have Indigenous values or the same relationship with the land but many of us love it. Do we have the right to express this?

One white artist who loves this land is Mandy Martin. ‘Martin has built an artistic oeuvre on painting the Australian landscape, depicting it in Romantic Sublime style as a threatened space and an aesthetic resource.’ (Chapter Mapping common ground, 78%)    

Her writing is superb and thought provoking – eg ‘the names have found their way to you along a whispered thread of folklore’ (Chapter 1,The remembered earth, 1% ). Her thinking about place and landscape is very thoughtful, for instance:

I wonder sometimes if the time I’ve spent in the desert has compromised my access to the deep psychology of my own culture – replaced the collective unconscious with the shadowy glimpses of a place-based collective conscious, and sentenced me to wander in the borderlands between Jung and geography. 

(It is a book to be studied in great depth.)

One small objection we all had whether we read it in paperback form or on the kindle was that the illustrations are terrible. You just cannot see the details of the maps or the photographs. This was a great pity for a book which talks so much about place and maps.

I would also like to recommend an interviewwith the historian Darrell Lewis where he talks about the travels of Leichhardt in the far corner of Western Australia. I found this fascinating.

H is for Hawk by Helen Macdonald

Most Minervans enjoyed some of this most unusual book.  It is the third book by Helen Macdonald, a Cambridge academic, not fiction but not a usual non-fiction book either. It is part memoir, part biography of TH White and part nature study.  As the preface says it is: ‘a book about memory, nature and nation, and how it might be possible to try to reconcile death with life and love.’ These are all aspects which we discussed. 

Many of us felt we would not have read it if it hadn’t been ‘compulsory’ for Book club. The beginning was popular among members. It was well written, evocative, engaging and left of field.  One member pointed out that Australia has a goshawk but it is different from the one in the book – see here. English goshawks are ‘grey with a black and white barred front, yellow eyes and  long tail’ and bigger than the Australian birds.

The biographical details of TH White (1906-64) who was the writer of 28 books including many fantasy novels about King Arthur (such as The sword in the stone) are woven into this book in a seamless and effortless way. She often compares her life with that of White’s rather tormented and sad life as derived from his Goshawk memoir published in 1951.

Another part of the text, is the period of Helen’s grieving for her father, a London photographer, Alisdair Macdonald, 1940-2007.  He died suddenly and she was profoundly shocked by her lack of connection with him. You can read about him online. 

The acquiring and training of the goshawk (Mabel) is a way for her to cope with her grief. Her grief leads to a type of madness where she begins to feel she is part bird. In addition she is extremely depressed in a clinical sense and the bird helps her (together with medical assistance) deal with those pressures too.

Macdonald compares her skills of bird training with White’s lack of success. Her repetition of this fact together with the telling of the exercise of taking Mabel out to the Cambridge countryside to hunt annoyed a few readers, although we all enjoyed her beautiful descriptions of the countryside and the cold and sounds of England. One comment was that the book evokes the resonance of history. This is a lovely way of saying that Macdonald as a historian was able to recreate the life of White so intimately. She is a very good writer and this has been recognised in Great Britain by the award of the Samuel Johnson prize for non-fiction in 2014 and the Costa Book of the year prize.  

Many members became tired of her self absorption, even though we also acknowledged that she was very honest in her writing about her problems and her depression/madness. Because of this inner contemplation we felt that she couldn’t properly register her mother’s predicament and feelings. Helen really cut her family off during this time in her life. Helen’s friends also tried to assist her, especially her friend Christina. She too was dismissed and it was only her falconry friends she was willing to spend time with.

  

One member thought of the book as a journey in Macdonald’s life which we the reader had to travel with her.

We all appreciated learning a little about the complexities of training a wild bird but also the moral problems associated with such an activity.  (A few of us have seen demonstrations of falconry. Personally, I was impressed at the time, but now I am not so sure. I think none of us like the idea of caging wild creatures.) Hunting is a moral problem for Helen and her descriptions of successfully killing the creatures, rabbits and pheasants Mabel targeted was not pleasant reading for us. It is truly a blood sport. Her friends found it morally questionable too.

The question of freedom is integral to this book – both for the bird but also for Helen as she copes with her life falling apart – lack of focus which really leads to her lack of a job, grief and even lack of practical things like having somewhere to live.

The comparison was made with the memoir and film, Wild based on the true life story of an American woman, Cheryl Strayed, who in 1995, walked 1100 miles, trying to cope with grief and difficulties. It was similar in that both women had an overreaction to grief and ‘used nature’ to heal themselves. A comparison was also made with Joan Didion who wrote Year of magical thinking. This book is about Didion’s response to her husband’s death and the illness of her daughter.  It deals with the not uncommon feeling of derangement after the death of a close relative.

In conclusion we thought she was kind to TH White. They were both running away from difficult situations. The author does fare much better than White however. There was some discussion of falconry as a traditional part of English life which was something to be proud of as well as something that should be re-invented for more modern times possibly.

The meeting with the elderly couple who admire her goshawk and the tradition of hunting contrasted strongly with their racist comments and this was one odd note in the book most of us felt. She was angry with them as they were ‘too thick’ to see all the good things around them which have come from elsewhere. Helen Macdonald felt she was an outsider too – especially when she trespassed onto private property. Nature knows no bounds and falconry used to be the sport of the rich landed gentry and aristocracy with abundant lands contrasting with the suburban house and garden of modern falconers. 

In chapter 18 there is a very memorable passage:

There is a time in life when you expect the world to be always full of new things. And then comes the day when you realise that is not how it will be at all. You see that life will become a thing made of holes… and you realise that you have to grow around and between the gaps … you can put your hand out to …where the memories are.