Welcome to Eureka Street
Looking for thought provoking articles?Subscribe to Eureka Street and join the conversation.
Passwords must be at least 8 characters, contain upper and lower case letters, and a numeric value.
Eureka Street uses the Stripe payment gateway to process payments. The terms and conditions upon which Stripe processes payments and their privacy policy are available here.
Please note: The 40-day free-trial subscription is a limited time offer and expires 31/3/24. Subscribers will have 40 days of free access to Eureka Street content from the date they subscribe. You can cancel your subscription within that 40-day period without charge. After the 40-day free trial subscription period is over, you will be debited the $90 annual subscription amount. Our terms and conditions of membership still apply.
There are more than 200 results, only the first 200 are displayed here.
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.
While a time of joy and celebration for many, Christmas amplifies hardships like loneliness and poverty for others. This year, the festive season is overshadowed by global issues such as war, climate change, and ongoing conflicts, reminding us of its origins in a period of oppression and uncertainty.
In December, the sprint to the end of the year is a drama of timing, perfectly illustrated in Christmas classic Die Hard: In the holiday rush, like Hans Gruber, we plot with precision. Yet life often demands we improvise like John McLane, finding the most welcome gifts of the season in the unscripted moments.
For over 40 years, I have supported a two-state solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. That term means two states for two peoples. Such an outcome can only come about as the result of peaceful negotiations that advance compromise and moderation on both sides.
Flanagan’s new book, Question 7, a beautiful and profound reading experience. It is a deeply personal memoir, a net woven from many threads. It traces the fine lines that link stories across time and around the world.
Why another Christmas Carol and why now? This version takes a detour from Dickens’ original delving deeper into Scrooge’s past, painting him not just as a villain, but as a victim of circumstances. It suggests that behind every act we hastily label as ‘cruel’ lies a story of fear and anxiety, and a flesh-and-blood human being. And forgiveness, then, becomes an acknowledgment of our shared human frailty.
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.
Sixty years ago today, on November 22, 1963, the world lost three towering figures of the 20th century. On their diamond jubilee, do I think it was the end of the world as we know it when these three died? Each one shaped the twentieth century in a unique way. Each one left us with much to think about still.
A recent image of an Israeli soldier with a Pride flag in Gaza's rubble recalls Isabel Fall's controversial story, ‘I Sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter.’ The story and the photo both highlight how symbols of liberation can be co-opted for conflict, underscoring the need to reclaim these symbols for their original, liberating intent.
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.
Set in a Melbourne bursting with bohemian allure, Chris Womersley's The Diplomat is a book of despair and the agony of regret. Intertwining the worlds of art, drug addiction and deception, the author confronts us with the question: how well can we truly know another?
25-36 out of 200 results.