Eat, pray, loathe : women’s travel memoir as moving metaphysical journey or narcissistic new-age babble?

This paper considers the contentious space between self-affirmation and selfpreoccupation in Elizabeth Gilbert’s popular travel memoir, Eat, Pray, Love. Following the surveillance of the female confessant, the female traveller has recently come under close scrutiny and public suspicion. She is accused of walking a fine line between critical self-insight and obsessive selfimportance and her travel narratives are branded as accounts of navel gazing that are less concerned with what is seen than with who is doing the seeing. In reading these themes against the backdrop of women’s travel, the possibility arises that the culture of narcissism is increasingly read as a female discursive practice, concerned with authorship, privacy and the subjectivity of truth. The novel, which has been praised by some as ‘the ultimate guide to balanced living’ and dismissed by others as ‘self-serving junk’, poses questions about the requisites in Western culture for being a female traveller and for telling a story that focuses primarily on the self.

Lying in all honesty : capturing truth in women’s confessional memoir

This paper explores the slippery nature of illness and diagnosis in Lauren Slater’s memoir, Lying: a Metaphorical Memoir (2000). Speaking from the shadowy intersection of childhood and adolescence, Slater’s narrator, Lauren, uses the metaphor of epilepsy to describe her own predilection for exaggeration. In exploiting the fallibility of the first-person narrator, Slater insists on the legitimacy of metaphor in accounts of childhood illness that are more concerned with narrative truth than historical accuracy. The result of this playfulness and general misrule is that Slater writes herself into a double bind: on one side, she is the child narrator who inadvertently misrepresents events and misdirects readers, and on the other side, she is the untrustworthy author who employs metaphor as a licence to lie.

The hard facts : a brilliant memoir about ancestral silence

A review of A History of Silence by Lloyd Jones (Text Publishing, 2013).

The coming

Through an exploration of representations of metamorphosis and the creation of a body of written work, this thesis uses a critical examination of theoretical approaches to metamorphosis in combination with textual analysis of representations of metamorphosis and creative practice as research to arrive at the beginnings of an ethic of writing. The creative work, The Coming, consists of a collection of short fiction, The Coming, and two collections of poetry, Orison and Milagros. The exegesis, Transhuman Change: towards an ethic of writing, explores theories about metamorphosis as a figure for writing, as a trope, and as a motif for exploring identity to contextualise the analysis of representations of metamorphosis from which the ethic is developed. With reference to the psychosexual development theory of Jacques Lacan and Elaine Scarry’s philosophy of the body, pain, language and creativity, the exegesis examines existing approaches to metamorphosis and uses supplementary textual analysis of influential representations of metamorphosis from Ovid to Pygmalion, X-Men and Extreme Makeover to explore assumptions about the body, language, the self, gender in western culture. The limitations of the performance of representations of metamorphosis as a figure for the self’s survival of death are considered in the light of voice as metonym for self to propose an ethic which valorises life. The experience of sex and the construction of gender in representations of metamorphosis are considered in the light of Lacan’s theory of desire and Scarry’s theory of the body and language to propose an ethic of representing gender ironically. The motif of the faithless lover and the Pygmalion myth are considered in the light of the (m)other’s role in language to propose an ethic in which indeterminacy constitutes the condition for being aware of oneself among selves. Each of the three proposals is discussed in relation to the short fiction, memoir and poems produced in the course of this research to test their limits and possibilities as the foundation of an emerging ethic of writing.

The Certainty of Yellow

Novel excerpt and discussion, as presented at the creative writing panel at Ignite! 2010

Thelma and Disease : Susan Gilman's Undress Me in the Temple of Heaven [A Review]

In the nineteenth century, when female travel narratives of miss(adventure) were still read as excursions rather than expeditions, it was common for women travellers to preface their writing with an apology or admission of guilt—a type of disclaimer that excused the author for engaging in such inappropriate activity and bothering the reader with their trivial endeavours. Susan Gilman’s Undress Me in the Temple of Heaven offers no such thing. Instead Gilman begins her memoir with a confession about its lack of lies, half-truth and spin. ‘This is a true story,’ she writes, ‘recounted as accurate as possible and corroborated by notes I took at the time and by others who were present.’

The Certainty of Yellow

Interview and short story published in Avid Reader Magazine.

Doing new things with texts : multimodality and Mao’s Last Dancer

This paper describes a senior, multimodal task developed by Shauna O’Connor and the English staff at Brigidine College after consultation in the form of media workshops with Anita Jetnikoff. Gunther Kress (2006) suggested recently that due to the affordances of media platforms such as Web 2.0, “we need to be doing new things with texts”. The year 11 unit’s Finding a Voice parent text was the memoir, Mao’s last Dancer. The summative assessment task morphed over time from an ‘identity portrait’, into ‘a multimodal, first person narrative’.

Neoproterozoic glacial deposits of the Kimberly Region and northwestern Northern Territory, Australia

Neoproterozoic glacigenic formations are preserved in the Kimberley region and northwestern Northern Territory of northern Australia. They are distributed in the west Kimberley adjacent to the northern margins of the King Leopold Orogen, the Mt Ramsay area at the junction of the King Leopold and Halls Creek Orogens, and the east Kimberley, adjacent to the eastern margin of the Halls Creek Orogen. Small outlier glacigenic deposits are preserved in the Litchfield Province, Northern Territory (Uniya Formation) and Georgina Basin, western Queensland (Little Burke Formation). Glacigenic strata comprise diamictite, conglomerate, sandstone and pebbly mudstone and characterize the Walsh, Landrigan and Fargoo/Moonlight Valley formations. Thin units of laminated dolomite sit conformably at the top of the Walsh, Landrigan and Moonlight Valley formations. Glacigenic units are also interbedded with the carbonate platform deposits of the Egan Formation and Boonall Dolomite. δ13C data are available for all carbonate units. There is no direct chronological constraint on these successions. Dispute over regional correlation of the Neoproterozoic succession has been largely resolved through biostratigraphic, chemostratigraphic and lithostratigraphic analysis. However, palaeomagnetic results from the Walsh Formation are inconsistent with sedimentologically based correlations. Two stratigraphically defined glaciations are preserved in northwestern Australia: the ‘Landrigan Glaciation’, characterized by southwest-directed continental ice-sheet movement and correlated with late Cryogenian glaciation elsewhere in Australia and the world; and, the ‘Egan Glaciation’, a more localized glaciation of the Ediacaran Period. Future research focus should include chronology, palaeomagnetic constraint and tectonostratigraphic controls on deposition.

The Roloffs

Short story published in REX: A Journal of New Writing.

Final call

Travel writing published by Swamp : A Journal of Post-graduate Creative Writing.

Where the bridge is

Memoir excerpt

Whe' yu' from?

"Whe' yu' from?" The question was put to me as I wandered, camera in hand, in the old square of Spanish Town, Jamaica's former capital. The local man, lounging in the shade of one of the colonial Georgian buildings that enclose the square, was mildly curious about what he took to be a typical white tourish photgraphing the sights of the decayed historic town. At that time, my home was in Kingston where i lived with my wife and baby son. I was then working in the Jamaican Government Town Planning Department in a job that took me all over the island. Turning to my questioner, I replied, "Kingston". There was a brief pause, and then the man spoke again: "No Man! Whe' yu' really from?" I still have difficulties when asked this question. Where am I from? What does this question mean? Does it refer to where I was born, where I spent my previous life or where I live now? Does it have a broader meaning, an enquiry about my origins in terms of background and previous experience? The following chapters are my attempt to answer these questions for my own satisfaction and, I hope, for the amusement of others who may be interested in the life of an ordinary English boy whose dream to travel and see the world was realized in ways he could not possibly have imagined. Finding an appropriate title for this book was difficult. Thursday's Child, North and South and War and Peace all came to mind but, unfortunately for me, those titles had been appropriated by other writers. Thursdays's Child is quite a popular book title, presumably because people who were born on that day and, in the words of the nursery rhyme, had 'far to go', are especially likely to have travellers' tales to tell or life stories of the rags-to-riches variety. Born on a Thursday, I have travelled a lot and I suppose that I have gone far in life. Coming from a working class family, I 'got on' by 'getting a good education' and a 'good job'. I decided against adding to the list of Thursday's Children. North and South would have reflected my life in Britain, spent in both the North and South of England, and my later years, divided between the Northern and Southern Hemispheres of the globe, as well as in countries commonly referred to as the 'advanced' North and the 'underdeveloped' South. North and South has already been appropriated by Mrs Gaskell, something that did not deter one popular American writer from using the title for a book of his. My memories of World War Two and the years afterwards made War and Peace a possible candidate, but readers expectnig an epic tale of Tolstoyan proportions may have been disappointed. To my knowledge, no other book has the title "Whe' Yu' From?". I am grateful to the Jamaican man whose question lingered in my memory and provided the title of this memoir, written decades later. This book is a word picture. It is, in a sense, a self-portrait, and like all portraits, it captures something of the character, it attempts to tell the truth, but it is not the whole truth. This is because it is not my intention to write my entire life story; rather I wish to tell about some of the things in my experience of life that have seemed important or interesting to me. Unlike a painted portrait, the picture I have created is intended to suggest the passage of time. While, for most of us in Western society, time is linear and unidirectional, like the flight of an arrov or the trajectory of a bullet, memory rearranges things, calling up images of the past in no particular order, making connections that may link events in various patterns, circular, web-like, superimposed. The stream of consciousness is very unlike that of streams we encounter in the physical world. Connections are made in all directions; thoughts hop back and forth in time and space, from topic to topic. My book is a composition drawn from periods, events and thoughts as I remember them. Like life itself, it is made up of patches, some good, some bad, but in my experience, always fascinating. In recording my memories, I have been as accurate as possible. Little of what I have written is about spectacular sights and strange customs. Much of it focuses on my more modest explorations includng observations of everyday things that have attracted my attention. Reading through the chapters, I am struck by my childhood freedom to roam and engage in 'dangerous' activities like climbing trees and playing beside streams, things that many children today are no longer allowed to enjoy. Also noticeable is the survival of traditions and superstitions from the distant past. Obvious too, is my preoccupation with place names, both official ones that appear on maps and sign boards and those used by locals and children, names rarely seen in print. If there is any uniting theme to be found in what I have written, it must be my education in the fields, woods and streets of my English homeland, in the various other countries in which I have lived and travelled, as well as more formally from books and in classrooms. Much of my book is concerned with people and places. Many of the people I mention are among those who have been, and often have remained, important and close to me. Others I remember from only the briefest of encounters, but they remain in my memory because of some specific incident or circumstance that fixed a lasting image in my mind. Some of my closest friends and relatives, however, appear nowhere in these pages or they receive only the slightest mention. This is not because they played an unimportant roles in my life. It is because this book is not the whole story. Among those whe receive little or no mention are some who are especially close to me, with whom I have shared happy and sad times and who have shown me and my family much kindness, giving support when this was needed. Some I have known since childhood and have popped up at various times in my life, often in different parts of the world. Although years may pass without me seeing them, in an important sense they are always with me. These people know who they are. I hope that they know how much I love and appreciate them. When writing my memoir, I consulted a few of the people mentioned in this book, but in the main, I have relied on my own memory, asided by daiary and notebook entries and old correspondence. In the preparation of this manuscript, I benefited greatly from the expert advice and encouragement of Neil Marr of BeWrite Books. My wife Anne, inspiration for this book, also contributed in the valuable role of critic. She has my undying gratitude.

The promise of Iceland

Memoir, 288 pages. An account of journeys made by the author from Australia to Iceland as a way of interrogating notions of cultural belonging, family, and homecoming. "In 1990, Kári Gíslason travelled to Iceland to meet his father for the first time. What he finds is not what he expected. Born from a secret liaison between a British mother and an Icelandic father, Kári Gíslason was the subject of a promise – a promise elicited from his father to not reveal his identity. The Icelandic city of Reykjavík, where Kári was born, was also home to his father and his father’s wife and five children – none of whom knew of Kári’s existence. Moving regularly between Iceland and Australia, he grew up aware of his father’s identity, but understanding that it was the subject of a secret pact between his parents. At the age of 27, he makes a decision to break the pact and contacts his father’s other family. What follows, and what leads him there, makes for a riveting journey over landscapes, time and memory. Kári travels from the freezing cold winters of Iceland to the shark net at Sydney’s Balmoral, an unsettled life in the English countryside and the harsh yellow summer of Brisbane, and back again. He traces the steps of his mother who answered an ad in The Times for an English-speaking secretary in 1970 and found herself in Iceland among the ‘Army of Foreign Secretaries’, and in the arms of a secret lover. Iceland becomes the substitute for the father Kári never really knew as he discovers the meaning of ‘home’ and closes the circle of his own fatherless life."-- publisher website

The Icelandic Army of Foreign Secretaries

1,000 piece of memoir about Iceland