Selected as one of the ABC Arts best books of 2022
'Who was Iris Webber? For Fiona Kelly McGregor, the search began at an exhibition where Webber’s gaol mugshot first caught McGregor’s eye. In her 2017 creative writing exegesis, McGregor writes about becoming ‘vexed’ by ‘static, tabloid’ portraits of Webber—gun-slinging, sly-grogging, lesbian gangster of the author’s hometown—who earned the epithet ‘the most violent woman in Sydney’. The academic work examines the many biases that accompany representations of Webber, wrestling the historically contentious figure from the clichéd narratives and hackneyed tropes of contemporary reportage that have been repeated through the years. It throws open a window into McGregor’s motivations and ambitions for her novel Iris to ‘be read as both myth and document’. ' (Introduction)
'It’s spring 1932 and Sydney is in the grip of the Great Depression. In the narrow terrace-lined streets and back lanes of inner Sydney, there are illegal two-up games and off-course betting. Sly grog shops are open after the official pub closing time of 6pm, offering beer, spirits and drugs. Police raids are usually pre-arranged, on these venues and others, such as Black Ada’s Academy School of Dancing, where homosexual men can meet under the guise of taking ballroom dancing lessons with the women who work there.' (Introduction)
'The accordion, or squeezebox, takes its name from the German Akkordeon, meaning a ‘musical chorus’ or ‘chorus of sounds’. This box-shaped aerophonic instrument makes music when keys on its sides are pressed, one side mostly melody, the other chords. Squeezing the instrument and playing with both hands, the musician dexterously produces polyphonous music.' (Introduction)
'Who was Iris Webber? For Fiona Kelly McGregor, the search began at an exhibition where Webber’s gaol mugshot first caught McGregor’s eye. In her 2017 creative writing exegesis, McGregor writes about becoming ‘vexed’ by ‘static, tabloid’ portraits of Webber—gun-slinging, sly-grogging, lesbian gangster of the author’s hometown—who earned the epithet ‘the most violent woman in Sydney’. The academic work examines the many biases that accompany representations of Webber, wrestling the historically contentious figure from the clichéd narratives and hackneyed tropes of contemporary reportage that have been repeated through the years. It throws open a window into McGregor’s motivations and ambitions for her novel Iris to ‘be read as both myth and document’. ' (Introduction)
