Storm Surge/Cyclone
Darn these inconvenient massive weather events. Here I was, thinking: "That whole Innisfail region has had a couple of years to recover from the last cyclone, it's probably a good time to go up for a bit of a field trip. I can take a look at the local museums and libraries, figure out exactly how to pronounce Mourilyan, take some pictures and footage I could use for projections..."
And then we go and get ourselves a massive cyclone that is going to cause storm surges all up the coast of northern Queensland, and probably make landfall between Cairns and Innisfail. And, of course, we all know that the areas south of the cyclone get the worst winds and rain.
I'm still hoping to get up there around Easter-ish, but I was hoping to see the place in it's non-weather-ravaged form. It's bad enough that the historic sugar mill at Mourilyan was so badly damaged during the last cyclone that it stopped functioning.
Weather! Stop making a mess of things!
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Devanny Project Diary Entry 5
Reflections on Sugar Heaven
What a daft way to end a book. Sure, there was a final, exultant proclamation about how much better the working men were as people now that they had organised themselves and tried to fight for their rights, but in terms of the story it was a real let down.
It's not so much that they lost the strike. I kind of new that would happen. It's the way everything took three chapters to peter into nothing.
Sugar Heaven is an oddly uneven book. It spends its time veering wildly between "reportage" and soap opera. One minute you're reading a gripping account of an altercation between the workers and the scabs at the mill, the next minute you're reading about Dulcie hating her husband's ex-wife (until she actually meets her, and then they become best friends - practically love at first sight).
And then, at the end, it goes from "we must reclaim our place on the land to make sure we are in a position to do better next time" to Dulcie being shocked at the existence of legal prostitution (and that somehow leading to her decision to have a baby) and Bill's confession to Hefty (of what, exactly?).
I have a feeling that the end was actually foreshadowed throughout the book. Hefty's taunt in the first few chapters that he had paid for as much as Dulcie had given him so far (leading to her thinking very poorly of him, but for all the wrong reasons*). The references to the fact that Bill doesn't look very well. Elsie's occasional comments that she had a right to flaunt her affair in front of Bill after what he did... Then at the end the concept of regulated prostitution is raised, with the idea put forward that "legal" prostitutes are regularly checked by a doctor, which implies that "illegal" prostitutes may have all sorts of diseases...
The final conversation between Hefty and Bill reveals nothing, but you are left wondering if Bill's great sin - the reason why he seems unwell and his wife is perfectly fine with taking a lover - is the contraction of a sexually transmitted disease from an illegal prostitute.
But, really, is that any way to end a book? Bill confesses something to Hefty that we have to guess from the context of the clues scattered throughout the novel; both men agree that all working class men in the area are intellectually better off now that they have gone through the strike and are on the verge of joining the Communist Party; the end.
It's not the lack of closure, it's the way things suddenly revert back to the soap opera, without quite letting go of the propaganda. The propaganda was easier to stomach when we were talking about the strike - not so much with the sudden prostitution and babies subplot.
*Dulcie's character arc in this novel is annoying. She has every right to object to the fact that her husband had been previously married and had visited prostitutes - especially since he neglected to tell her about this until after marrying her and taking her far away from her friends and family. However, she was also "unthinking" and stubborn, objecting to things purely because she felt they were objectionable, and not because she actually knew why they were objectionable. All that malarky about trying to insist Hefty didn't go any where near anyone or anything connected with his ex-wife, even though he was happy to think of Elsie as Bill's wife and leave it at that. Her fear of being seen in public with a man (any man) who wasn't her husband (what would people say!)... You just wanted to smack her in the head (hence, my last entry). And then, even her "growth" through the strike and the way it encouraged her to think for the first time was also kind of annoying.
I think we were supposed to follow a similar awakening to Dulcie, but her character really just exists so people can explain things to her (and, by association, us) within the context of the novel - so the book didn't spiral into report, rather than reportage. Like that character in Twister who was just there so people could tell her about tornadoes.
What a daft way to end a book. Sure, there was a final, exultant proclamation about how much better the working men were as people now that they had organised themselves and tried to fight for their rights, but in terms of the story it was a real let down.
It's not so much that they lost the strike. I kind of new that would happen. It's the way everything took three chapters to peter into nothing.
Sugar Heaven is an oddly uneven book. It spends its time veering wildly between "reportage" and soap opera. One minute you're reading a gripping account of an altercation between the workers and the scabs at the mill, the next minute you're reading about Dulcie hating her husband's ex-wife (until she actually meets her, and then they become best friends - practically love at first sight).
And then, at the end, it goes from "we must reclaim our place on the land to make sure we are in a position to do better next time" to Dulcie being shocked at the existence of legal prostitution (and that somehow leading to her decision to have a baby) and Bill's confession to Hefty (of what, exactly?).
I have a feeling that the end was actually foreshadowed throughout the book. Hefty's taunt in the first few chapters that he had paid for as much as Dulcie had given him so far (leading to her thinking very poorly of him, but for all the wrong reasons*). The references to the fact that Bill doesn't look very well. Elsie's occasional comments that she had a right to flaunt her affair in front of Bill after what he did... Then at the end the concept of regulated prostitution is raised, with the idea put forward that "legal" prostitutes are regularly checked by a doctor, which implies that "illegal" prostitutes may have all sorts of diseases...
The final conversation between Hefty and Bill reveals nothing, but you are left wondering if Bill's great sin - the reason why he seems unwell and his wife is perfectly fine with taking a lover - is the contraction of a sexually transmitted disease from an illegal prostitute.
But, really, is that any way to end a book? Bill confesses something to Hefty that we have to guess from the context of the clues scattered throughout the novel; both men agree that all working class men in the area are intellectually better off now that they have gone through the strike and are on the verge of joining the Communist Party; the end.
It's not the lack of closure, it's the way things suddenly revert back to the soap opera, without quite letting go of the propaganda. The propaganda was easier to stomach when we were talking about the strike - not so much with the sudden prostitution and babies subplot.
*Dulcie's character arc in this novel is annoying. She has every right to object to the fact that her husband had been previously married and had visited prostitutes - especially since he neglected to tell her about this until after marrying her and taking her far away from her friends and family. However, she was also "unthinking" and stubborn, objecting to things purely because she felt they were objectionable, and not because she actually knew why they were objectionable. All that malarky about trying to insist Hefty didn't go any where near anyone or anything connected with his ex-wife, even though he was happy to think of Elsie as Bill's wife and leave it at that. Her fear of being seen in public with a man (any man) who wasn't her husband (what would people say!)... You just wanted to smack her in the head (hence, my last entry). And then, even her "growth" through the strike and the way it encouraged her to think for the first time was also kind of annoying.
I think we were supposed to follow a similar awakening to Dulcie, but her character really just exists so people can explain things to her (and, by association, us) within the context of the novel - so the book didn't spiral into report, rather than reportage. Like that character in Twister who was just there so people could tell her about tornadoes.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Devanny Project Diary Entry 3
Building on the last idea:
Perhaps, instead of a "documentary" with live readings, there could be a number of "narrators" onstage.
One tells the story of Jean Devanny's life, one tells the story that is written in the novel, one tells the history of the strikes and the politics/people involved. And, of course, the reader, whose sole purpose is to read the passages of the novel which frame the discussion.
Still record interviews which can be projected, but the role of narrator that you usually get with documentaries can be split amongst people who actually move around and interact with each other on stage - making it more "live" and interesting.
Question: Can this be structured in such a way that it could be performed by one person, if necessary? Should it be? Four people on stage would be more interesting to watch, but one person would travel more easily...
Perhaps, instead of a "documentary" with live readings, there could be a number of "narrators" onstage.
One tells the story of Jean Devanny's life, one tells the story that is written in the novel, one tells the history of the strikes and the politics/people involved. And, of course, the reader, whose sole purpose is to read the passages of the novel which frame the discussion.
Still record interviews which can be projected, but the role of narrator that you usually get with documentaries can be split amongst people who actually move around and interact with each other on stage - making it more "live" and interesting.
Question: Can this be structured in such a way that it could be performed by one person, if necessary? Should it be? Four people on stage would be more interesting to watch, but one person would travel more easily...
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Devanny Project Diary Entry 2
An Idea
"Sugar! Jean Devanny, Sugar Heaven and the 1935 Can Cutter's Strikes"
Tell the story of the strikes, Devanny's interest in them and the book - dipping into "reportage", but mostly telling the story of the people who worked and lived in the area, how they inspired the novel, what Devanny hoped to do with the book and how the book has been recieved over the years.
Put together a more or less honest-to-goodness documentary with filmed interviews. On stage, those interviews would be projected onto a number of screens, and framed by a performer reading excerpts from the book.
Recording the readings, the whole thing could be cut together as a DVD...
"Sugar! Jean Devanny, Sugar Heaven and the 1935 Can Cutter's Strikes"
Tell the story of the strikes, Devanny's interest in them and the book - dipping into "reportage", but mostly telling the story of the people who worked and lived in the area, how they inspired the novel, what Devanny hoped to do with the book and how the book has been recieved over the years.
Put together a more or less honest-to-goodness documentary with filmed interviews. On stage, those interviews would be projected onto a number of screens, and framed by a performer reading excerpts from the book.
Recording the readings, the whole thing could be cut together as a DVD...
Friday, January 21, 2011
Devanny Project Diary Entry 1
Yesterday we started talking in earnest about the idea of using Museum Theatre to “open up” the Special Collections to the public. Bronwyn and I had half talked about it last year, saying “we should do it”, but not really getting much beyond that. She had dozens of projects to work on, and asked to hold off discussions until January.
I had been thinking about MT on Wednesday afternoon, and that night I was thinking about what collections we might have that would be “dramatic” enough to make a good first project. Jean Devanny’s name popped into my mind. I knew we’d had at least one visiting scholar in to see the collection in the last couple of years. Plus, Cheryl Taylor and Shirley (forgotten her last name atm) were doing some project on Devanny a couple of years back.
Mentioned it to Bronwyn, who said the Devanny collection was one of the suggestions for “first cab of the rank” for the digitisation project. We could tie the digitisation of the collection into the performance and make it some kind of “launch” for the digital collection.
Tossed a few loose ideas around concerning the extent of the project – taking it on tour to the local areas with funds from Playing Australia? Trying to tie it in with one of the local industries to get sponsorship?
Neither of us know much about Devanny beyond the name. Decided the next step was for me to "get to know her". Borrowed some books from Main and checked for biographies online. Nothing on Wikipedia. Used Ron Store’s brief biography and skimmed Ferrier’s book to put a quick and dirty entry on Wikipedia. Better than nothing, and hopefully more successful than my last attempt to add to Wikipedia (the Handball Incident).
Started reading Sugar Heaven, reading the Introduction to the 2002 edition first. So far, not bad. Interesting to encounter a mix of place names I’m very familiar with alongside ones I’ve never heard of. Are they still around, but I’ve never noticed them? Have they disappeared since 1936?
First thoughts:
• Tell the story of Devanny’s life by using her novels to highlight where she was “at” at the time.
• Communist propaganda. Her novels as propaganda, her tour through North Queensland and the Communist movement in NQ at the time.
• The 1935 strikes in particular – talk about her interest, writing this particular book, the history of the strikes and the outcomes. Maybe mixing in stories from cane cutters.
• “The Red North – Jean Devanny and Evangelical Communism in Queensland”
• “Fact in the Form of Fiction – Jean Devanny and the Art of Reportage”
Decided today that I really should be a member of IMTAL to add some weight to any proposals. Tried to join IMTAL-Europe (but had difficulty with the online forms), but discovered the Australasian version has advanced since I last looked at them. Not to the point where you can actually use their website to find out how to join, though.
The IMTAL conference is going to be in Melbourne this year, and the call for papers closes in April. We might be able to swing a little more prestige by bringing the possibility of an international conference…
I had been thinking about MT on Wednesday afternoon, and that night I was thinking about what collections we might have that would be “dramatic” enough to make a good first project. Jean Devanny’s name popped into my mind. I knew we’d had at least one visiting scholar in to see the collection in the last couple of years. Plus, Cheryl Taylor and Shirley (forgotten her last name atm) were doing some project on Devanny a couple of years back.
Mentioned it to Bronwyn, who said the Devanny collection was one of the suggestions for “first cab of the rank” for the digitisation project. We could tie the digitisation of the collection into the performance and make it some kind of “launch” for the digital collection.
Tossed a few loose ideas around concerning the extent of the project – taking it on tour to the local areas with funds from Playing Australia? Trying to tie it in with one of the local industries to get sponsorship?
Neither of us know much about Devanny beyond the name. Decided the next step was for me to "get to know her". Borrowed some books from Main and checked for biographies online. Nothing on Wikipedia. Used Ron Store’s brief biography and skimmed Ferrier’s book to put a quick and dirty entry on Wikipedia. Better than nothing, and hopefully more successful than my last attempt to add to Wikipedia (the Handball Incident).
Started reading Sugar Heaven, reading the Introduction to the 2002 edition first. So far, not bad. Interesting to encounter a mix of place names I’m very familiar with alongside ones I’ve never heard of. Are they still around, but I’ve never noticed them? Have they disappeared since 1936?
First thoughts:
• Tell the story of Devanny’s life by using her novels to highlight where she was “at” at the time.
• Communist propaganda. Her novels as propaganda, her tour through North Queensland and the Communist movement in NQ at the time.
• The 1935 strikes in particular – talk about her interest, writing this particular book, the history of the strikes and the outcomes. Maybe mixing in stories from cane cutters.
• “The Red North – Jean Devanny and Evangelical Communism in Queensland”
• “Fact in the Form of Fiction – Jean Devanny and the Art of Reportage”
Decided today that I really should be a member of IMTAL to add some weight to any proposals. Tried to join IMTAL-Europe (but had difficulty with the online forms), but discovered the Australasian version has advanced since I last looked at them. Not to the point where you can actually use their website to find out how to join, though.
The IMTAL conference is going to be in Melbourne this year, and the call for papers closes in April. We might be able to swing a little more prestige by bringing the possibility of an international conference…
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Villette
While preparing the book display half of a "Blog Display" concerning the writing of the Brontë sisters, I went looking for pictures from the 1970 miniseries adaptation of Villette, staring Judy Parfitt as Lucy Snowe (English audiences may know her best as Mrs Clennam in Little Dorrit, American audiences may know her best for her role as the Queen in Ever After).
I couldn't find any I could really use. Heck, in the end I couldn't find any pictures that were directly connected to the book that were all that useful. In the end, I just went for a generic "French Village" image.
However, I did find this:
Which I found entertaining.
I read Villette at the same time I had been given Lonely Runs Both Ways (by Alison Krauss and Union Station) for Christmas, and I always found the song "If I Didn't Know Any Better" seemed to fit perfectly with the second half of the book. I had this crazy idea of having a completely bluegrass/country soundtrack for the film version of the book.
But, having watched the clip above, I have to admit that Macy Gray's "I Try" is a perfect fit for the first half of the book. So now I'm wondering if I could convince Alison Krauss to do a bluegrass cover of "I Try", or if I should just open up the music genres for my dream sound-track to my hypothetical film adaptation.
Jane Eyre is one of my all-time favourite books, but there's an extent to which I find Villette to be a better novel. The whole "Ghost of a Dead Nun Haunting the Attic" thing never works as well, for pure drama, as the "Madwoman in the Attic" and "Psychic connection via the moon" thing that Jane Eyre has going on, but I love the emotional depth of the novel.
The book is a celebration of second chances. It sets up one love story, stomps on it, then gives us another. In Jane Eyre (and Shirley), the young woman has one great love, and must go through many trials and heartbreaks before winning him in the end. She can never be happy without him - he is the only one for her! (Dramatically bring back of hand to forehead at this point). In Villette, it looks like it's setting up the exact same scenario... but then turns everything on its head.
M. Paul must have been at the school the whole time. He must have been floating around in the background while Lucy was busy swooning over Dr John. We just don't hear about him because she doesn't notice him. Too busy swooning, you see. Then, at some point, he just breaks in - seemingly out of nowhere. Then he does it again, and again, and again.
And then, suddenly, her breath catches in her throat at the thought of talking to him and she just can't fathom why. Suddenly, she's so turned around by this annoying little Frenchman that she can barely spare a thought for her glorious Dr John.
Suddenly, we don't give two hoots if Dr John goes off and marries Polly. We want to know what M. Paul wants to talk to Lucy about. We want to know why his cousin is trying so hard to keep him away. When he grabs Lucy's hand in the garden and draws her close, we pretty much forget about Dr John entirely.
And I love that element to the book - the new paradigm. In the romantic novel that is your life, you might not be Jane trying to overcome the obstacles needed to get to your Rochester. You might be Lucy who is still stuck on Dr John. Your M. Paul might be standing right behind you, waiting for you to turn around.
I couldn't find any I could really use. Heck, in the end I couldn't find any pictures that were directly connected to the book that were all that useful. In the end, I just went for a generic "French Village" image.
However, I did find this:
Which I found entertaining.
I read Villette at the same time I had been given Lonely Runs Both Ways (by Alison Krauss and Union Station) for Christmas, and I always found the song "If I Didn't Know Any Better" seemed to fit perfectly with the second half of the book. I had this crazy idea of having a completely bluegrass/country soundtrack for the film version of the book.
But, having watched the clip above, I have to admit that Macy Gray's "I Try" is a perfect fit for the first half of the book. So now I'm wondering if I could convince Alison Krauss to do a bluegrass cover of "I Try", or if I should just open up the music genres for my dream sound-track to my hypothetical film adaptation.
Jane Eyre is one of my all-time favourite books, but there's an extent to which I find Villette to be a better novel. The whole "Ghost of a Dead Nun Haunting the Attic" thing never works as well, for pure drama, as the "Madwoman in the Attic" and "Psychic connection via the moon" thing that Jane Eyre has going on, but I love the emotional depth of the novel.
The book is a celebration of second chances. It sets up one love story, stomps on it, then gives us another. In Jane Eyre (and Shirley), the young woman has one great love, and must go through many trials and heartbreaks before winning him in the end. She can never be happy without him - he is the only one for her! (Dramatically bring back of hand to forehead at this point). In Villette, it looks like it's setting up the exact same scenario... but then turns everything on its head.
M. Paul must have been at the school the whole time. He must have been floating around in the background while Lucy was busy swooning over Dr John. We just don't hear about him because she doesn't notice him. Too busy swooning, you see. Then, at some point, he just breaks in - seemingly out of nowhere. Then he does it again, and again, and again.
And then, suddenly, her breath catches in her throat at the thought of talking to him and she just can't fathom why. Suddenly, she's so turned around by this annoying little Frenchman that she can barely spare a thought for her glorious Dr John.
Suddenly, we don't give two hoots if Dr John goes off and marries Polly. We want to know what M. Paul wants to talk to Lucy about. We want to know why his cousin is trying so hard to keep him away. When he grabs Lucy's hand in the garden and draws her close, we pretty much forget about Dr John entirely.
And I love that element to the book - the new paradigm. In the romantic novel that is your life, you might not be Jane trying to overcome the obstacles needed to get to your Rochester. You might be Lucy who is still stuck on Dr John. Your M. Paul might be standing right behind you, waiting for you to turn around.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Luddite
"I'm a bit of a Luddite," she said. She's not the first person to say it, and she won't be the last, but she's still wrong.
They're almost all wrong.
Every time I hear someone say "I'm a bit of a Luddite" I have to stop myself from replying:
"No, you're not. You're just reluctant to learn how to use technology. I'm a bit of a Luddite, you're just holding yourself back."
If, like me, you believe that the automation of jobs sucks and we shouldn't be replacing human beings with machines - no matter how efficient they might be - due to the fact that the cost to our society is too great, then you could justifiably call yourself a Luddite.
If you, like me, believe the factory system pioneered by textile companies during the Industrial Revolution was the beginning of a process that has had a detrimental effect on our species and the planet, than you can call yourself a Luddite.
If you, like me, believe that the Industrial Revolution itself was, by and large, a bad idea...
Well, you get the drift.
If, however, you just find Word 2007 too different from Word 2003 and you'd rather not have to deal with it... Well, I'm afraid that doesn't make you a Luddite, it just makes you someone who needs to think carefully about aptitude and attitude and try to work out which one is getting in your way so that you can do something about it.
Smash the knitting frames! Down with spinning jennies! Curse your capitalist industrialism! Let the working man work!
Ahem.
As you were.
They're almost all wrong.
Every time I hear someone say "I'm a bit of a Luddite" I have to stop myself from replying:
"No, you're not. You're just reluctant to learn how to use technology. I'm a bit of a Luddite, you're just holding yourself back."
If, like me, you believe that the automation of jobs sucks and we shouldn't be replacing human beings with machines - no matter how efficient they might be - due to the fact that the cost to our society is too great, then you could justifiably call yourself a Luddite.
If you, like me, believe the factory system pioneered by textile companies during the Industrial Revolution was the beginning of a process that has had a detrimental effect on our species and the planet, than you can call yourself a Luddite.
If you, like me, believe that the Industrial Revolution itself was, by and large, a bad idea...
Well, you get the drift.
If, however, you just find Word 2007 too different from Word 2003 and you'd rather not have to deal with it... Well, I'm afraid that doesn't make you a Luddite, it just makes you someone who needs to think carefully about aptitude and attitude and try to work out which one is getting in your way so that you can do something about it.
Smash the knitting frames! Down with spinning jennies! Curse your capitalist industrialism! Let the working man work!
Ahem.
As you were.
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