It was a happy day for local Hobart writer, Richard Flanagan, when he met the 'kindly archivist', Mr Pearce, at his local library. Indeed, Mr Pearce and Richard had a long association going way back the the days of THE RESERVES when they young. Days of wine and song. There once seemed to be a time where Richard was a free fixture that bobbed up from time to time on band nights off. Now it costs $85 a head to get a word in. You can make it in Tasmania.
Before we get too much further it is important to realise that this is not a book review but a rather clever ploy to draw attention to this correspondent's real interest, Mr Pearce's fine rock and roll ensemble, HEY MOOK. Godammit, we're desperate men. Twenty years rolling down the track and we can't even get a review in the local rag.
Ah! a snippet of Mook history buried away deeper than an archive which held Gould's Book of Fish. Alas, the story, or at least the bit that grabbed my attention, petered out. Someone, somewhere had mentioned this snippet and I got interested. I'll be supporting local culture, the economy and helping out a mate. Girlfriend's birthday coming up.Tasmania is far from the backwater that the world at large believes it is. There can be no doubt it struggles economically and that it's unattached young often leave on the first boat out. Mock as you will infidels, but Tasmania produced the worlds first GREEN PARTY, a political movement which is sweeping the planet as well as a per capita cultural output that sits way up the ladder. Alas, it's greatest generators of 'economic wealth' appear to be endless chains of CHICKEN FEED outlets replete with cheap imported product (no doubt mostly produced in conditions that no self respecting Aussie punter would ever work under), the clear felling of native forests and a huge social security payout from the mainland. Mocketh thee not the hand that feeds.
Life in Tasmania begs many a question for the enquiring mind.
If I cross the river will I really end up in Melbourne?
What is it like to live in a state where up until twenty years ago you never saw an Aboriginal in the streets?
Was a former Premier in public denial of his aboriginality because of fear of prejudice?
Who killed Amanda Carter?
Where have all the trees gone?
Why don't we ban 1080?
Why do all those godamm rumors nearly always turn out to be true?
We live in a strange world now, you can say "fuck" on the box, you can commit adultery with the full support of your peers but you can't express an opinion. "I avoided the question, I forgot all the answers, I made myself into a liar"
I hope Richard's next novel really sticks the boot in, names names and quotes some contemporary history. I hope he writes today's history today so we can see the world for the shallow pit of lies and misery it really is. Oh, and a bit of sweeping Tasmanian landscape, or what's left of it to give us inspiration and hope.
Like champion sportsman, Anthony Mundine, he is prepared to speak his mind and risk a few of the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. However, how does one pass judgement on the past if one doesn't offer opinions on the issues of our day? Please don't let me be misunderstood, you can tell the love of the author's craft that has gone into this book simply by picking it up and having a cursory glance. Exactly what I have done but I'm saving this one for a quiet day on some remote tropical beach.
Anyway, before I go I'll slip in my ten bucks worth ..... "The war on terrorism starts at home laddie, there was a time I would have blacklisted the ALP as a terrorist organisation, I would stop profiting from the commerce in weapons of mass destruction but alas now that I've climbed the mountain I am tired and jaded, I know only to well which side of my daily bread's been buttered". It is no mystery, not even pulp-fictionesque, that the average punter as usual is greasing the wheels of an ever corrupt system. Redemption for the writer lies in the act of exposing the system's facade, "brick by brick, prick by prick".
Anyway, in the meantime let's all go to New York and suck some critic's cock. "S11?, sorry, I really don't have a clue, I wasn't there and please pass me another canape". Richard's novel is available from extremely select book stores, mainly in first world countries. Alternatively, it costs almost nix to drop into your local library and have a congenial chat with the friendly staff.