Just for fun Scary Haunted House noises
Wednesday, October 31, 2018
Tuesday, October 30, 2018
Acknowledging a forgotten people
I'm celebrating today. I have just
received the first copy of the reprint of my sister’s book. This means that at
least one of my projects has come to fruition this year. The first two small print runs had sold out and
there were still some outstanding requests, but my sister hasn’t been in the
best of health lately and couldn’t do it herself. It was supposed to be really easy. Sabi deserves loads of credit for getting it out there in the first place, but best of all, it can now be bought through almost any bookshop anywhere in the
world and can also be ordered online via Amazon, Booktopia, The Book Depository and
possibly even this blog, when I work out how to put the widget on. Copies of the book are also available in
several libraries, especially around Melbourne, at the Immigration Museum and in
some University German Departments. I am talking about the English version here. The German version published by Verlag Sindlinger -Burchartz* was released in April.The difference in price is because the English version has some colour illustrations, in case you were wondering.
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Gundel 1940's - No, this picture isn't in the book, but it's one of my favourites |
So what is this book about
and why does it matter?
On the surface “A
Life in Two Suitcases” is a simple story lovingly pieced together from
fragments, diary entries, letters and my sister’s recollections of our mother’s
life. Gundel’s cultured, middle class life in southern Germany is shattered as Hitler rises to power. She is expelled
from school for writing an anti -fascist essay, some of her family members are
forced to flee and neither of her parents survive the war. As peace returns,
she is at last able to marry and she and her husband begin to eke out a modest
living. However, after another personal tragedy, she is persuaded to seek a new
life Australia, though this does not prove to be the utopia she imagined.
Through the prism of Gundel’s story we see what life was like
during the Nazi era in Germany, particularly for those of Jewish descent, and
what Australia was like in the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s. That picture is not
always flattering. See for example, what Gundel wrote of her first impressions
of George Town in the 1950s:
“But everything is so empty: there is a lack of fantasy, spirit, soul
and heart. Here one becomes spiritually and emotionally sterile.” [“A life
in two Suitcases”: P. 76]
Later, reflecting on the migrant experience as we moved yet
again, she wrote:
“Somehow we are always in transit. I don’t mean that we are physically
on the move, but since we have severed our roots in Europe, we are rootless and
have become spiritual gypsies…” [“A life
in two Suitcases”: P. 89]
Fortunately she eventually comes to appreciate those wide
open spaces, and there are also some lighter moments, but that’s all I'm going to tell
you for now.
This book is not perfect in every way. The poetry sounds very stilted in English, some of the pictures could be better. I even disagree with some of the things my sister wrote - for instance Dad's car was not a Hillman, but a maroon gangster saloon with big running boards, and there were no plastic bottles in the 50's, but it doesn't change the substance of the story. It is about real people and real lives. It's significance lies in the fact that it gives a voice to the
experience of many of those Post World War II migrants for whom coming to
Australia was not necessarily the universal success story which almost everyone
now seems to claim. For example, Dr John
Hirst, Emeritus Scholar, School of Historical and European Studies, at La Trobe
University, writing in The Conversation in 2014, began by saying, “Let’s admit it, Post War Immigration was a
success “ simply because most migrants did eventually end up owning a home and their children usually did
well.
However, this glosses over the fact that it was not always a happy
experience for everyone. To his credit Peter Mares in "Not Quite Australian" 2016:16)** mentions the bullying, taunts, social exclusion and social stratification, though at least there was no overt persecution. A Greek friend,
who came to Australia at around the same time as we did, says her mother cried
every day. Large numbers, around 10% returned
to their homeland when this became possible due to growing affluence and the advent of cheap
airfares. In Gundel’s
time, that was an impossible dream.
Why does this matter 50 or 60 years later?
As Barbara Roche, the UK’s former Minister for Immigration
and now Chair of Trustees of Britain’s recently opened National Immigration
Museum, explained at its opening in 2017. “…personal stories (are also)
national stories; all our stories,” and a way of exploring our history.
So far the literature has been remarkably sparse with
respect to the 4.2 million people who migrated to Australia between 1945 and
1985 (although around 40% still came from the UK). Perhaps like Gundel, their lives ended
prematurely, or they lacked the language skills or the leisure to write down
their experiences, or they thought their lives were simply too ordinary and no
one would want to hear about them. It certainly did not do to suggest that this
“shining example of Australian humanitarianism and generosity” (Mares 2016:13)**which
represented a ‘seismic shift’ in immigration policy, was anything less than
perfect. To quote from Barbara Roche‘s
opening address again, although she was speaking about the UK:
“Britain
has one of the best museum sectors in the world, but there is no cultural space
devoted to conveying the importance of migration in the narrative of this
country. It has always seemed a strange omission, as if there is a reluctance
to acknowledge the integral role migration has played in the formation of
Britain as we know it.”
The same could be said of Australia too, although Melbourne
did get its Immigration Museum in 1998. No -one wants a pity party, nor was it all bad, but we shouldn't airbrush the stories of quite a large number of people and a particular period out of our history either, as we used to do with aboriginal history and convict history. I
like to think Australia has grown up a lot since those times, and that this book will
help to fill in that void. Alas,
the people who would have appreciated it the most, have largely left the stage, but it will resonate with their families and anyone who has had to
make a new life in a distant country. The people who should read it, are those who have stayed comfortably at home.
As new waves of migrants sweep the world and we now embrace sushi, burritos, laksa and Rogan Josh, it might be worth pausing for a moment while sipping that latte, or that nice little drop of Merlot or Chardonnay, or even while eating your muesli or yoghurt, to drink a little toast to those pioneers and say a silent thank you.
A big thank you also to all the people who have helped me with
this project over the last couple of months, especially Scott Jones at the Waratah Group, Jacinta at Focal Press, the many people I have badgered at Ingram Spark,
my fabulous family and in-house IT team, and of course the lovely Michael
C. who not only offered to write a program to overcome some technical issues, but provided much emotional encouragement.
PS As my friend Michael pointed out, Australians may not have been terribly enthusiastic about all the newcomers, but by allowing people to come to Australia, they did save many from persecution and possible extermination.
*
(Gundel’s family is
better known in Germany, partly because of Gundel's own writing, but also because of the missionary work in India by
previous generations and the connection to Herman Hesse [Winner of 1946 Nobel Prize for
Literature] see for example the Herman Gundert portal at the University of Tuebingen about Gundel's great grandparents and Hesse's grandparents which will be available internationally with translations as of 20/11/2018) .
** This line is loosely borrowed from “Not Quite Australian” by Peter Mares (2016: Text Publishing, Melbourne). It talks about contemporary migration and temporary migration and how this differs from earlier periods.
Monday, October 22, 2018
Lilac Time
Just a few snippets today as I have been sick this week and
now have a lot of catching up to do. I
have also been testing my camera as it wasn’t working properly when we went to Tahune.
This is such a beautiful time of the year. The scent of lilacs is in the air.
It always reminds me of that wonderful summer in Siberia* where lilacs are used as street trees. Most of the other trees are are now clothed in lush green although there are still a few cherry blossoms
about.
Mobile Healthcare for the Homeless |
Free Hearing tests for Seniors Week |
Free books and reading on the way to town |
For weary bookworms |
Post office does its bit for farmers too |
There are some divine aquilegias about too |
Hope you are all feeling perky and thank you very much for
the lovely comments and feedback on the blog, which, as usual, I only seem to
discover when I have enforced downtime. Nature’s way of making you stop and
smell the roses – er lilacs.
* Cheers to all my friends there. I've just looked back at some of the blog pics. from that time and see they are small and squibby and that some have fallen off. I will try to update these at some stage, as they simply do not convey the beauty of the place.
Sunday, October 14, 2018
The Superb Lyrebird – or is it?
This is what a lyrebird looks and sounds like. If you prefer to see the same clip with lower picture quality, but in David Attenborough's well modulated tones, see the clip at the bottom.
I forgot to mention it yesterday, but just before we got to
Tahune, a Superb Lyrebird crossed the road in front of us – a rare sight as
they are normally very shy. The remarkable thing about the Lyrebird is its ability
to mimic other sounds. I was telling Miss Ten that the last one I saw - also in
this area, on my first walk to Adamson’s Falls, sounded like a chainsaw and she
said, “Is that why they call them Liar birds?” You'll see why they call them Lyre
birds when you have looked at one of the clips. For information about their habits, feeding and breeding click here.
Lyrebirds are not native to Tasmania but were initially introduced
from the mainland by Lady Franklin in the 1800’s. In the 1930’s and 40’s
fearing mainland extinction due to habitat loss and the presence of European predators such as
foxes, several more were released near Hastings- just south of
here, and Mount Field. Beautiful as they
are, as with most introductions e.g. rabbits, cane toads and blackberries, there is a
downside.
At first Lyrebirds seemed to have fitted in rather well, possibly
occupying the niche which used to be occupied by the small Tasmanian emu which
became extinct soon after white
settlement (No, the settlers didn’t
necessarily hunt them to death. It is now thought that the rats which came with
them, may have eaten the eggs), but now the 22 birds which were introduced by1949 have grown to an estimated 8000 birds and have extended their range all
over the state. Their habit of scratching up huge mounds for nests now
threatens other species - tearing out seedlings, removing the insects and preventing
regeneration. It is in the leaf litter
and moss that the seeds for our rare species germinate and once loosened, they
are easily washed away. This is why some
of our beautiful wilderness waterfalls will be very slow to recover after
recent floods.
Because of their history on the mainland, Lyrebirds are
still protected, but the day may come when Tasmania may have to consider
culling them. This is the problem when you live on a small rock which is in
fact a floating Ark. It is also why we
have to be s -o -o -o -o careful with what can be brought in, so please don’t complain
when we ask you to ditch you fruit and vegetables on entry. Every introduction,
even a microscopic one, poses new risks.
Enjoy our lyrebirds while you can.
UPDATE 3/8/2019 :Just came across this interesting bit about Lyrebirds, which debunks the myth that the chainsaw sounds I heard the lyrebird make are copied from human activity. If you hear something like that record it with your phone and send it to Send it to offtrack@abc.net.au
Saturday, October 13, 2018
A fine day in the Huon Valley and some great news for Tasmanians
At this time of year it should be compulsory for everyone to
visit the Huon Valley. The fields are still green, there’s a touch of snow on at
least one of the mountains and all the apple blossom is out.
Now there’s another reason to visit for Tasmanians at least.
Tahune Forest Adventures is offering
Tasmanian residents a free forest adventure pass for 18 months if they apply
before December 31.
Cantilevered section of the Airwalk gives views over the tree tops, the mountains and both rivers, if you don't mind heights |
Being the last official day of school holidays, we thought
we should go before the operators changed their minds. Soon the five of us – representing three
generations, were heading off in the direction of the Airwalk. This is an
engineering wonder which affords excellent views over the Huon River, the
Picton River and the Hartz mountains. It also allows you to get up close and
personal with rainforest species such as sassafras, myrtle, celery top and leatherwoods,
as well as some tall stringy barks. For
those not familiar with temperate rainforest, it’s an excellent introduction,
and even for those who are, it offers a whole new perspective. And if, like one of the friends with whom I walked
a few days ago, you prefer your wilderness a little less wild and with all
amenities, then this place for you.
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Huon River - Cymbaline's Phone pic. |
As we stopped for apples beside the river, this magnificent square rigger sailed by |
Tasmanian or not, you still have to pay for the accommodation and other
activities such as Eagle Gliding or rafting, neither of which we attempted
today, though we did enjoy the Swinging Bridges Walk which was a big hit with the
girls who seemed a teensy bit apprehensive on some parts of the treetop walk.
Then, after having afternoon tea in Geeveston, were lucky enough
to spot a platypus or two on the Platypus Walk along the Kermandie River. Bees buzzed in the blossom and daisies, bluebells and perwinkles flourished at the margins. Of course, no visit to the
Huon would be complete without buying at least one bag of apples from the many
honesty boxes on the way home. Just as we stopped to do so, a square rigged wooden boat sailed by - just as it would have in days gone by -a fitting finish to a lovely day.
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