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An Arabunna man, Uncle Kevin Buzzacott devoted himself to the protection of that delicate, glorious country of north eastern South Australia with its Great Artesian Basin’s ancient waters threatened by the succession of powerful mining companies operating Roxby’s Olympic Dam.
There is beauty in returning to places that experience has made so full of memory that they have become layered with meaning. Just as there is in hearing music that you have listened to at different moments of your life, and that is filled with meaning, not just for you, but even moreso for the artist standing before you and in myriad different ways for the audience with you.
Dante and Hopkins named it lavishly: Christ’s vita nuova, shared to Easter in us; Ignatius of Loyola called it: magnanimity . . . How could we then, receiving, hoard or dispense it stintingly, like Scrooge before his Christmas haunting?
Arguably Australia’s most celebrated living author, Helen Garner has built a reputation as a fearless and unapologetic writer whose work has remained fresh and relevant for over 45 years. We sat down with Helen to explore the challenges of confessional non-fiction, her fondness for church, and her commitment to unsparing self-analysis.
It’s becoming an age of Endarkenment. Was it ever thus? So many going mad with one half of the facts? Moved by ignorance and targeted misinformation, compassion becomes corrupted into a rage for vengeance, and our streets heave with mobs who chant hate. It’s made me worried and sad. But I won’t give up on Christmas.
My Father’s Shadow is a beautifully constructed three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle in which perfectly formed and elegant stories from different times and places are juxtaposed and tested for fit, so forming a pattern of meaning that is never closed.
Catharine Lumby was a friend and beneficiary of Moorhouse’s mentoring and advice, and before his death, was approached by him to write a warts-and-all uncensored biography. In Frank Moorhouse: A Life, Lumby explores the life of this man of letters in all of its colour and contradiction.
Stone Yard Devotional is a chronicle of a huge problem in our time: the sense of futility in all our efforts to amend. Wood may make us think, because despair is a constant stalker of the bravest of warriors against the destruction of the planet and the chronic toll of human evil. When compassion becomes a disabling burden, who or what can help?
The First Folio was published in November 1623. Shakespeare didn’t live to see his plays gathered together in the one place. His universe of words, his meteors of wit and description, his galaxy of human frailties and strengths, his shrouds of darkness and rays of light, were collected and bound by colleagues after his death in 1616, aged 52. The world owes them profound gratitude.
Can the essence of human frailty—our inconsistencies, our biases, our passions—really be replicated in ones and zeros? And if so, what becomes of the human voice once the machines learn to speak?
The Hamas attacks on civilians posed a profound ethical conundrum for some. And it’s been sad to see progressives, who have for years sympathised with the plight of the Palestinian people and followed the actions of hard-line Israeli governments with dismay, attempting to downplay or rationalise the brutality of Hamas. Must empathy for one tragedy necessarily diminish compassion for another?
Most people of sympathy and empathy would believe there is an invisible thread that binds humanity. To think otherwise, to echo British jurist Lord Denning, is to consider a panorama too awful to contemplate, that is, what if a life is just mere object to another? When the massacre becomes the norm, does the world become numb to it?