author: Mark Tredinnick

  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Literature's power is in self not identity

    • Mark Tredinnick
    • 30 September 2019
    11 Comments

    I'm a white man in a white man's world, his mother tongue the lingua franca everywhere. I may not be rich, but I am more or less free, and my calling has let me travel the world. It's easy for me, not having had to fight for mine, to ask us to go deeper than identity when we write. But when James Baldwin says the same thing, it compels.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    What my daughter wrote

    • Mark Tredinnick
    • 26 November 2013
    8 Comments

    She said I was 52 and weighed 68kg and stood one-and-a-half metres tall, and some of that is right. She said my hair was brown and that my brown beard prickled her when I kissed her ... She said she loved me because I hugged her all the time (but who could not?) ... He buys me Toys from Sydney, she had written — as if toys were spices and Sydney were Tashkent.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Feather on the breath of god

    • Mark Tredinnick
    • 18 September 2012
    5 Comments

    You, too, despite the false witness of the mirror in your mind, are part, a very small part, of a very old music ... Poetry writes the only prayers you feel free to offer these days. It is the glint in the eye of the god you stopped believing, when she started causing you all this pain.

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