Secret Scribbled Notebooks...

Secret Scribbled Notebooks by Joanne Horniman
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Secret Scribbled Notebooks by Joanne Horniman represents teenage Kate's journey of identity; a journey seeking self-worth and purpose. Each notebook colour represents symbolic signposts in that journey. The red notebook is the current moment of thought; the blue is the limited memory and the yellow, from a third-person perspective, seems to have been inserted in some vague future. In that journey, Kate looks at her circumstances and tries to make sense of them, her role in them. To one special person, Kate introduces herself as Penelope. That seems to be a sign of wishing she had some special vibe in her presence. Sprinkled through her journey are alignments with musicians - Crowded House- and writers - Oscar Wilde. Is this a novel? an autobiography? a diary? Somehow, the concept of notebook seems to be the best-fit tag. There is a barrage of variables in these notebooks, but there is one constant, a tree, a fig tree. That tree is her home, her sanctuary for dreaming. Overall, this book is an intriguing insight into the cogs and wheels of inner, secret processes perhaps we all may recognise.

MY POETIC REVIEW: Songlines on the Winds

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A poetic response to 'Secret Scribbled Notebooks' (2004) - Joanne Horniman

in this life
I choose to be a tree
ever-changing
a deciduous tree
sleeping winter slumbers
unfolding new leaves
in the springtime

those who love me
appreciate
all that I am#micropoetry pic.twitter.com/uMgN92P0nv

— Gemma Wiseman - on Bunurong land, Kulin Nation (@AuraGem) December 12, 2021

Truganini...

Truganini by Cassandra Pybus
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Truganini, by Cassandra Pybus, represents an intriguing dive into the awkward perils that fractured colonial Tasmania. There is self-made missionary George Robinson trying to connect European and aboriginal cultures. He tries to offer some measure of safety and security to the aboriginal groups scattered round Tasmania who face a European 'round up'. He barely leaves the pages of this historical biography. Names, many names fleetingly buzz around him and by him, but he is always there, soldiering on. Even though Truganini was in Robinson's life for 13 years, sadly, she remains one of those many names. Truganini loved water, loved to swim, loved to fish and was high-spirited. She had a marriage or two. She may be with Robinson at times, helping his mission, but seems distant from him. In short, we get to know Truganini's world, according to Europeans, but we still are far from getting to know Truganini. The blinkered records of the day deny us that longed-for understanding. So, Pybus offers us descriptive, detailed insights into the challenges of colonial days, but hardly turns the spotlight on Truganini. A mistitled book I feel.

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I am pleased to report

I am still treading

my own songlines

only those

who really knew me

in my own lifetime

know how

and why

I am

I am Truganini

and always will be

Sarum...

Sarum by Edward Rutherfurd
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Imagine a grand mural in a grand, several-storeyed palace. Imagine that palace has secret chambers, a humble attic or two. And the mural travels from space to space, beginning at the entrance. The mural is a story within many stories, a giant narrative of people and their descendants through time. Their stories spring from Salisbury, medieval Sarum. Watching over the lives of these people is one constant...Salisbury Cathedral. It too grows and changes and grows through time. Edward Rutherfurd's Sarum is a masterpiece, first chronicling one man's emergence from the world's darker place to the Salisbury Plain, then the interaction of many families and their descendants, all the way to World War II encampments. In between, the Black Death, colonisation, markets, cathedral challenges, loves and heartaches, social tensions and visions intercept the flow of many family lives. Here is time on a grand scale, but the intimacy of characters and emotions is not neglected. We feel Jane Shockley's yearning for Jethro Wilson. But that cannot be. They come from different worlds. We feel Jane's stoic dignity in accepting this fate. We feel many stories and we learn so much about the colours and the mores of many times passing. Indeed, this novel is a vivid mural painted with words.

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old worlds

many

old lifetimes

sometimes

the eyes of yesteryear

seem to watch

sadly

on new worlds

and wonder

why

Girl With a Pearl Earring...

Girl With A Pearl Earring by Tracy Chevalier
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Girl With a Pearl Earring may initially have attracted the reader who seeks an understanding of a 17th-century painter's lifestyle. But this novel offers so much more...intimate interactions between class levels, conflicts of values, all impacting personal journeys of the inspired and those more intent on 'fitting in'. Johannes Vermeer, the Dutch painter in Delft, lives in his own world of painting portraits, lit with light and soul, even though his large family attests to occasional, more worldly distractions. Griet, the housemaid in this family, becomes his muse. She feels challenged to survive in, to straddle the two worlds...the real and the surreal. Finally, Griet understands that the magic moments of soul connections can only survive the moment. A charming, sensitive portrait of old Dutch worlds.

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torn from her family 

by circumstance

working from

cellar to attic

being a housemaid

for some

a muse

for one

but movement

from low to high

vibrations

always comes

at a price

with few guarantees

and maybe comes with

some personal loss

some sacrifice

Page 214: "He is an exceptional man" van Leeuwenhoek continued. "His eyes are worth a room full of gold. But sometimes he sees the world only as he wants it to be, not as it is. He does not understand the consequences for others of his point of view. He thinks only of himself and his work, not you. You must take care then -' He stopped. My master's footsteps were on the stairs.

"Take care to do what, sir?" I whispered.

"Take care to remain yourself."

I lifted my chin to him. "To remain a maid, sir?"

"That is not what I mean. The women in his paintings - he traps them in his world. You can get lost there".

A Theatre for Dreamers...

A Theatre for Dreamers by Polly Samson
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Even though Charmian Clift, George Johnston and Leonard Cohen may appear in A Theatre for Dreamers, the novel is not all about them; they are just a few of a huge cast of bohemian characters. The novel is about the Greek island of Hydra, its 1960's lifestyle and culture; it's about the magnetic power of an island paradise, an island curse. Through the eyes of young, rooky novelist Erica, we bask in the party lifestyle of a would-be arty community and realise that the idyllic party world thinly shields darker tensions and insecurities and secrets. Erica seeks answers about her mother, her mother's connection with Charmian Clift. What she finds are questions she needs to ask herself. And in this cast of many, despite the underlying darkness, infidelities and tragedies, there is always the dream that is Hydra.
In short, our curiosity treats us to a lifestyle most of us will never know. We may even not want to party endlessly, where each day rolls out much the same; where the event of the day seems to involve who is bickering or sleeping with whom. Indeed, at times, the novel seems to become weighted down with this cycle. But thankfully, Erica drags us away for some relief in England... and only returns with a little extra age... and maybe wisdom.

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NOTE: Polly Samson is married to Pink Floyd's David Gilmour...

sunny island days

intent on keeping

the Cold War at bay

(at least

the political Cold War)

other wars were

simmering

brewing

but where there's

sea

sun

ouzo

stars and

a slice of moon

anything

is bearable

almost

who can forget

Hydra

the island

the rock

the tiers of white houses

rising

like amphitheatre seats

a theatre for dreamers

it's all fine

while the curtains are open

but at some stage

the curtains

must close

nightmares

will always

find you

even if you live

on a rock

Talking to My Country...

Talking to My Country by Stan Grant
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Stan Grant's Talking to My Country represents a bold, enigmatic, challenging whirlpool of many genres - historical documentary, travelogue, memoir, autobiography - with an overlay of philosophy and vision. But the many perspectives all meet in one vital place - 'my country', my Australia. A beautiful spin of lively expression ensures that some narratives do not wallow in shock and melancholy, but rather heighten our awareness of traditionally blurred histories, endeavouring to bridge the gulf of misunderstandings between 'old' and 'new' Australians. Too easily we have slipped into the 19th-century poetic prose of William Henry Suttor, and accepted his views as our history. Too easily we have overlooked Murdering Island and Poisoned Waterhole Creek - not recorded in traditional school textbooks. Not till Grant travels abroad - especially Mongolia - when he reports on the suffering of others, did Grant unlock the door to his own soul. Grant sees a future where there is survival, adaptation; our Australian story and one Australian spirit.

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history weighs heavy

for some

blood and bone

buried deep in a land

one day 

may emerge

and bring

a new light

to a filtered 

scrubbed

past

one day

our land

our Australia

will exhume

its secrets

and then

perhaps

we can willingly share

the burden of history

together

this peace...

MY GOODREADS REVIEW

this peace by Robyn Cairns
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Rob Cairns' this peace poetically highlights features of a journey we all take, either consciously or subconsciously...seeking that elusive, maybe utopian light we like to understand embodies our personal concept of peace...That peace maybe scrambled with grey and crossed wires. It may even be a little scarred with an industrial skyline or rust. But somewhere, if we take the time to notice, there is the zen glide of a pelican uplifting us and trees regenerating us. For me, Rob's journey is fragmented, halting...short poems connect loosely...The Mungo interlude seems stark, as if not quite the indulgence I expected for an ancient dreaming place...But this is Rob's journey...not mine...I borrow what is meaningful to me, and remember classrooms must have daydream windows. (After all, I am a teacher.)

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the earth may spin

through industrial skylines

but seashells

keep the ocean

in my pocket

trees

regenerate me

and

my whole world

lives

inside a drop of rain

as it should

but I wonder

is it time

to visit

Mungo

and dream

old dreams 

awhile