DAME MARY GILMORE RARITY- ANOTHER TOWNSVILLE TREASURE

WARNING : If you  are prone  to  a  touch of  the  vapours, suffer  from fluctuating blood pressure  , limp fall without  warning, or have   some  other malady   that   flares up  when  excited , then  DON’T  enter  the fabulous world of the Special Collections room in  the Eddie  Koiki Mabo Library, James  Cook University.
 

As  a  result of  a  recent  trip  there  this  writer  came  away  with  palpitations  after  spotting  some  rare and unusual books with  inscriptions  and   content   of   great  interest.   One   was   the  above  1918  collection  of   work by  that  grand woman of  Australian  literature ,  socialist ,  poet ,  journalist   and  radical writer, Dame  Mary Gilmore (1865-1962). 
 

The   book  has  a  hand written inscription  which  suggested  it  may  have  been  a   presentation  copy by  her  to  the editor of  the Australian Workers’  Union   newspaper, The Worker, Sydney .  My  hands  shook as  I  examined  the  book.   In  1908 ,  Gilmore  was  made  women’s editor  of  The  Worker  and compaigned for  better  working conditions for  women,   child   welfare   and   Aborigines. 

It is said she became too radical for the AWU, the nation’s most  powerful trade union,  and  found other outlets  , including  a regular column for  the  Communist  Party’s newspaper, Tribune , but never  became a  member  of   the   party.
 

An  adventurous person, in  1893  she went to  the  ill-fated  New Australia  utopian settlement started by the radical political  and  union activist,  William Lane,  in  Paraguay.He wrote The Workingman's Paradise.

A schoolteacher in Sydney, one of  her  pupils of note  became   the  Northern Territory journalist,  editor  and  author ,  Jessie  Litchfield, who co-founded the North Australian Monthly  with Glenville Pike. Over  the  years ,  Gilmore  corresponded  with  the  Kiwi author and activist  Jean Devanny  in  Townsville and also  encouraged   Territory  author   Bill  Harney . 
 

For film maker   Sandra Holmes , mentioned recently  in the  continuing   biography  of  editor   James  Bowditch, Dame Mary made  an LP record, The Hunter Of  The Black , recalling massacres of Aborigines in her childhood  and recitation of  poems she  wrote  about  Aborigines .



In  1937 she  was the first person made a  Dame Commander of the British Empire for services to literature .
 

A  well  worn  1907 book  –In Australian Tropics –by  Alfred Searcy,  an early sub-Collector of Customs  in  the Northern Territory ,  caught my eye. Compelled to  inspect  anything related to  the  Territory, it was opened  and  there  was  an unexpected  large  stamp of a long gone  North Queensland Labor  library  book  club, see below :

An odd inclusion  found in a copy of Xavier Herbert's novel , Capricornia,was a Brisbane bank cheque, apparently used  as a  bookmark

TWO OFFAL EXPERIENCES -LIKE MURDER IN THE RUE MORGUE

Our  gluten  free  roaming  correspondent , Peter  Burleigh , exploring  French  waterways  with  his  wife  ,  Judi,  aboard  their  cruiser , The  (Dutch)  Butterfly , cooks up  a   gut  churning  yarn.

(Believe it or not , the following pieces are factual. You will find them reported in Wikipedia and BBC World News / Paris Syndrome.)

PARIS : The Japanese Embassy here  maintains a 24-hour hotline to counsel Japanese tourists who are disillusioned with The City of Light. About twenty victims a year use the service, most of them women in their thirties. Japanese Syndrome, as it is called, is an unusual disorder a person may suffer upon realizing that not everything in Paris, France is what he or she expects.  

It usually affects tourists with a high regard for Parisian culture only to find out later that it is far from perfect.

Those who suffer from Paris Syndrome usually anticipate that most citizens of the famous city are like the models they see in advertisements, magazines, and fashion shows. They also believe that high fashion is for everyone in Paris. Upon arrival in Paris, however, these people are met with culture shock and the realization that high fashion in Paris is intended for foreign patronage.

JAPANESE SHOCKED

While working in France in 1986, Professor Hiroaki Ota identified a psychological disorder that affects mostly Japanese tourists. According to the professor, the shock of experiences that tourists may encounter in Paris, especially those that go against their norms, can result in stress and psychological disturbance. Japanese are vulnerable because they are accustomed to a gentle, disciplined society. An opposing view from Dr. Yousef Mahmoudia states that it is over-excitement which creates anxiety, and over-anxiety creates hallucinations.

Several ‘differences’ can cause culture shock. When a stranger goes to Paris, he or she might not get used to the manner of the people, the way they live, or how they treat strangers. Second, language is a factor because the French tongue means it may be hard for Japanese tourists to communicate.

Additionally, excessive admiration of the city can lead to unreasonable expectations. Exhaustion caused by preparing for the trip and by the trip itself can also lead to temporary mental disorders - such as Paris Syndrome.

Major symptoms include anxiety, emotional disturbance, and disturbance in sensory perceptions. The patient may also feel threatened all the time, or, if the patient had a bad experience with someone from Paris, he or she might fear everyone from Paris. Minor symptoms include irritability, light-headedness and excessive sweating. With all these symptoms combined, the patient may experience cardiac arrest especially if the disorder continues to manifest or if medical intervention is not sought.

SIMILAR   SYNDROME   IN  AUSTRALIA  

Most psychologists agree that the cure for Paris Syndrome is for the patient to go back to his or her home country and to never return. It is also important for family and friends to help the patient cope with the disorder. Patients who have severe cases may also be advised never to go back to Paris. Nevertheless, many experts agree that there is nothing to cure if  Paris syndrome is prevented in the first place through immediate realization and acceptance.
 

I’m sure this fascinating Syndrome has its parallels in Australia; for example, Politicians’ Syndrome, High Taxes Syndrome and Cost of Living Syndrome. Medicare will soon, I hope, provide support for the unfortunate Australians who suffer from these and other such Syndromes.

Although there has been no syndrome associated with the horrors of offal cuisine in France, there is a growing revulsion among otherwise liberal-minded meat eaters of certain dishes which appear specifically designed to cause the gorge to rise. Vegetarians, of course, are the most vulnerable

Famous offal dishes are: Andouillette (Tripe), Riz de Veau (Sweetbreads), Boudin Noir (Blood Pudding), Andouille (Pig intestine sausage), Gesier (Gizzards), Rognons (Kidneys) and less disgusting dishes made from horse meat (available from licensed Viande de Cheval Butchers 

The all-time classic is Tete Au Veau (Calf’s head). Buy our calf head(s) from a boning room, an abattoir or a specialist butcher. Make sure your supplier has done much of the hard work by removing the skin, hair and fat from the skull. Any trace of these leaves the finished dish tasting ‘revolting’, to quote an English chef.

Cut the head in two and roll it round a calf’s tongue and secure it in a net. Poach it in a broth, well-seasoned with vegetables, parsley, peppercorns and plenty of salt either on the stove on the gentlest of flames or in the oven at the lowest setting. Once a meat skewer can be driven through the head with no resistance (on average after about five hours), it will be ready.

BEWARE  OF  EXPLOSIONS

At this stage adventurous cooks can benefit from two invaluable bits of advice, again from the same anonymous English cook: “Firstly, this is one dish that has to be cooked completely. There is no more certain way of putting anyone off tête de veau forever than to serve it undercooked. And the second is that once you have finished cooking it you must allow it to cool completely otherwise it will explode.”

When cool, slice the meat into thick pieces and then warm it in the broth. Serve it with a piece of calf’s brain on top and a mustardy ‘sauce ravigote’. One head will yield eight to ten portions. “It is either ordered by those who grew up after the war, still remember rationing and know that it is wrong to waste anything, or a much younger group of chefs and restaurateurs who feel obligated to order a dish that is not on anyone else’s menu.”

For them, and any new adventurous diners that come through your door, tête de veau is happily intended to keep this somewhat masochistic culinary tradition  alive. Your reputation as a cook will become an instant legend although whether positive or negative, who can say.NEXT : The  Burleighs  abandon ship.

MELBOURNE CONTINUES TO BAIL OUT AND MASSAGE WALL STREET

Once  known  as  the  Wall  Street  of   North  Queensland due to all the  substantial  bank  and  insurance buildings   built  during the 19th century boom , Flinders Street ,Townsville , is  to  get  yet  another  touch  of   Melbourne  to   boost  flagging   business  and   attract  more  people  to  the  CBD .   

 

The   Mexican influence  on  Townsville   started  with   the   opening   of   City   Lane , an  upswept  tucker  and  drinks  venue  a  la  Lygon .    A  “real  Melbourne style”  piano  bar  and  cafe  restaurant  are  being  constructed  in  part  of   the  Chifley   Plaza  Hotel . 

 

And   when   a    blog   fang   man  visited   the  area   he   detected    yet  another   welcome  Melbourne  influence, The Saturday Newspaper  , on   display outside  the  Mary Who  Bookshop  and  bought  the  last  copy. The  paper  carried  the   news  that it  will  soon  be  available  for  home  delivery  in   Brisbane .  Another  touch  of   Victoria   is   playful  Aussie Aurora, from Melbourne , who advertises in  the  Personal and Adult Services  columns of the Townsville Bulletin , describing herself  as   size 12, 28 years old , very busty. 

INSIDE EAST TIMOR NOVEL WITH A MODERN ASSESSMENT

In the year 1991 , author / journalist , Timothy Mo, wrote  The  Redundancy  of  Courage , based on   the East Timor  conflict, set in 1975, the  year of  the  Indonesian invasion , some of the  key fictional  characters modelled on  Xanana Gusmao , Jose Ramos  Horta  , seen  left  on a  Darwin wharf ,  and  the veteran  Australian journalist  Roger East - murdered  in   Dili ...  After  his recent  first  visit to  the country to  attend a  large literary discussion , Hong Kong based  Mo  penned  the  following    view  of  the   young  nation , with  observations  about  the role of  women  in the country today,  the  geo-political situation and  Australia's use of bugs  in  the  oil grab  .

 

The re-enactment of  the  death in Dili of  Roger East , activist Rob Wesley-Smith playing the part of  the reporter  who worked in Darwin.  
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

East Timor has stopped  being a cause and  become  a country. Consolidating nationhood   is  proving nearly as fraught as  the  bloody but relatively uncomplicated fight to expel the Indonesian invader.

 

On the strength of my novel The Redundancy of Courage and my review of Luís Cardoso's The Crossing, which tells the culture and history of East Timor ,  Sofia Belmonte of the Council of Ministers invited me to attend The Dialogues of  Dili. I had never been to Dili but it was exactly as I had imagined: to the rear, green hills sharply rising; to the fore, the winding Praia beach front with the immaculate new embassies opposite the grubby sand.

Across the sea, 23 miles away, but in good weather seemingly close enough to touch, loomed craggy Atauro island. I was warned not to swim. It wasn't a joke: monster salt water crocodiles were occasionally sighted opposite the Government Palace. Dominating the Dili skyline stood the cube of the Finance Ministry, easily the  tallest building in town and constructed mostly of glass, presumably as a symbol of transparency.

The only surprise came out of town. The 10,000-foot mountains were unexpectedly massive, reminiscent of the Swiss Alps, and impenetrable mists quickly rolled down them. You could still find skeletons on Mount Matebian or Ramelau where wounded FALINTIL fighters had crawled into cracks and crevices to bleed to death rather than endure the Indonesian army's torture chambers. Just out of Dili, the narrow road East ran past unfenced chasms, hundreds of feet deep.

Our talks and lectures were ostensibly about the contribution of literature to identity and reconciliation, the "construction of conscience", as Abé Barreto called it. The Redundancy of Courage had been hard to write. I disliked it in the way that a mother has to fight her resentment of the child who gave her the most painful birth. But, like a runaway child, this novel had been the one that had a life of its own. It had become a part of the events it purported to describe, with fact and fiction intertwining till they were indistinguishable.

My old acquaintance José Ramos-Horta, the former President and Prime Minister of Timor-Leste – he survived two rifle bullets to the body in peacetime 2008 – had visited Mohamed Nasheed, the former President of the Maldives. Nasheed had been democratically elected but ousted by the army and Islamic fundamentalists. José recounted in his blog that as they shook hands he said that he expected His Excellency had never heard of Timor-Leste. "On the contrary," retorted Nasheed, "The Redundancy of Courage was part of my prison reading."The biggest surprise of all was to come. After my lecture a large and imposing figure blocked my path. It was Virgiliano Guterres, a bear of a man. "Only now do I truly know you are a real person," he said, embracing me.

Gil had been imprisoned by the Indonesians. In jail he had read one of the many photocopies of my novel doing the rounds of Dili. He and his cellmate had been convinced it could only have been written by a Timorese. In a Malayo-Polynesian mouth my name sounds like Team-Uh-Tee-More. In obsessive and claustrophobic cell debates Gil and his comrade decided my pseudonym of Timothy Mo was a pun on Timor, Timor. [Mo is Anglo-Chinese.]  And just like my novel's narrator, Gil's cellmate had his life saved by a noble Indonesian boy. He and Gil were convinced I had taken this true story from life and put it in the book and redoubled their belief that I was living in Dili. But it was one of those occasions where life follows art, rather than vice versa.

Timor occupied a strategic position. It sat on deep water which allowed nuclear submarines rapid transit between the Pacific and Indian oceans. The Timor Gap held huge reserves of gas and oil, bitterly disputed with Australia. Contemporary Dili seethed with espionage and conspiracies. Would the father of the nation, Xanana Gusmão, Timor's Mandela, resign as he threatened, come September? Was it an elaborate double-bluff? Under cover of an aid package, the Australian secret service had  bugged Prime Minister Mari Alkatiri's office in 2004 (the spy who blew the whistle had his passport revoked in 2014, preventing him from testifying at the Hague).

All Timor-Leste could do was try to play the powers off against each other. The Chinese had constructed two ministry buildings for free, presumably sans microphones. Timor went to them for patrol boats instead of Australia. The war heroes had been male but the strong women of peace-time Timor impressed me now. Mimi Chungue hosted us. She was from a famous Timorese-Chinese lineage. Mimi herself had been a highly paid manager at Coca-Cola but come home. It was Mimi who got us a long audience with President Taur Matan Ruak and the First Lady and then with the Army Commander, Major-General Lere, followed by the veterans of the clandestine Dili network.

First Lady Isabel da Costa Ferreira and the Culture Secretary, Maria Isabel de Jesus Ximenes, were charmers. The First Lady was sincere, intelligent, and determined. Typical of the convoluted personal tragedies of Timor, her husband had commanded FALINTIL whose former political wing FRETILIN had murdered her father.

The former First Lady, the Australian-born Kirsty Sword Gusmão, was unassuming and dedicated. Renowned for her strength of character, as PM's wife, she remained a  national asset. So modest was she, I only realised who she was five minutes into our chat at the library that bore her husband's name.

 

Xanana's sister, Armandina, a subtle poet, also gave herself no airs on the strength of her legendary brother. Armandina and I shared a tiny public van to meet Luís Cardoso at the airport. Luis's own lover, Rosa Bonaparte, immortalised in an iconic photograph with other FRETILIN leaders in 1975, had been killed on invasion day.

 

Mara Bernardes de Sá was Portuguese – she worked in the beautiful museum of national resistance for the Director, the formidable "Hamar", who told me the trick under electric shock was to reveal only in dribs and drabs rather than try to stay silent. Mara's three-year-old was already fluent in Tetum. He would be as Timorese as mountain weave. Among the women, about the children, exists hope. It flickers perilously above public vendetta and  private vicissitude but, just for now, it lives on.

SEASPRAY ON BOLLARDS

Vallis Photograph

AMERICAN TRIBUTE TO AUSTRALIAN SOLDIERS

Composed  by   Lieutenant  John H. Myers,   of   the  U.S. Army ,  this  march , dedicated  to  the Australian   Infantry Forces,  was played  on every commercial  radio station on  Anzac Day  1943 . The  rousing   chorus  is  as  follows:

From Australian plains to the English hills,

And the wind swept shores of Bengazi,

From Timor swamps to Egyptian sands march the men of the A.I.F

From the  jungles of New Guinea to the ratholes of Tobruk.

They are on their way to Victory in the name of the A.I.F.

In the air and on the seven seas and the fields of every land .

They will fight their way to Victory .

In the name of the A.I.F.

BATTERED SHIP OF STATE LIMPING TOWARDS BERMUDA TRIANGLE

CANBERRA :There is growing  hysteria   here  in  the  national capital as  the battered    SS  Coalition , increasingly resembling  the  ill-fated  Titanic , seeks landfall in  the  Stafford  by-election. Captain  Abbott continues to make pious  statements  to  the   nervous  crew who will soon don their  leather  Turnbull  lifejackets   in a  frantic bid to  save their scurvy hides  at  the next  Federal election .