A pounding in my chest threatens the blessed quiet of the library. A pile of books – with their unfolded story – threatens the quiet of my life. My face is the whisper of someone, I was told long ago. Ah, so it is. It could well be the shouts and wails, gossips or exclamations of everyone else. I close a last book. Enough now; I get the picture. It’s […]
A pounding in my chest threatens the blessed quiet of the library. A pile of books – with their unfolded story – threatens the quiet of my life. My face is the whisper of someone, I was told long ago. Ah, so it is. It could well be the shouts and wails, gossips or exclamations of everyone else. I close a last book. Enough now; I get the picture. It’s […]
A note about Nan Chauncy: she was a Tasmanian author who wrote classics like “The Found a Cave”, “Devil’s Hill” and my favourite, “Tangara” – the story of Lexie, a white Australian who befriended an Aboriginal girl, Merinna. It was one of many Nan Chauncy publications that addressed Aboriginal issues. Nan Chauncy lived on a property named Chauncy Vale, near Baghdad, north of Hobart. She died in 1970. Warning: The links […]
(Take a seat and have a coffee with this one – or maybe read it in installments – because some bees got in my bonnet – a lot of stingy ones because I got a bit swollen with the issue. Sorry in advance.) If I’m underqualified to write anything current-affairsy (i.e. most of this blog) then I am horribly underqualified to write anything at all to do with Aboriginal affairs. So don’t, […]
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