Only literary material within AustLit's scope individually indexed. Other material in this issue includes:
A tale of two colonies by Osman Faruqi
Crawl, crawl, crawl to daddy: Unpacking sexualisation of men in leadership by Lauren Rosewarne
Rape is Rape by Jane Gilmore
Dating, dying, and digital connection in covid by Alex Bevan
Riding the high horse with Deborah Levy by Anna Sublet
Anecdotal fiction by Ned Hirst
'One of the most memorable lines in 'Romeo and Juliet' is when Romeo stands under Juliet's balcony and she says, 'What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.'' (Introduction)
'A few years ago I was diagnosed with a serious intermittent mental illness, and I made a decision not to rush to publicise it. I used that experience to write a journal article, about the queer politics of disclosure of disability, which carefully avoids saying what the diagnosis was. At a personal level, I have always had mixed feelings about 'coming out'-even though it can be politically powerful to do so, it can also mean giving into the demand to narrate how you differ from the norm. With the possible exception of young men at dance and drama schools, nobody has ever had to 'come out' as straight; white Australians are not routinely asked to tell their migration stories; abled people are not required to explain how they are socially enabled, et cetera.' (Publication abstract)
'Shower your love with white flowers. Drape her shoulders in wreaths of fragrance, take care to notice if a blossom nuzzles her clavicle, a drowsy bee in the flagrant magnolia flower.' (Introduction)
'Of course I have no right whatsoever to write down the truth about my life... but I do so urged by a necessity of truthtelling, because there is no living soul who knows the complete truth; here, may be one who knows a section; and there, one who knows another section; but to the whole picture not one is initiated.' (Introduction)
'The day begins with yoghurt and muesli in a stranger's kitchen, air thick with a rare summer heatwave and my discomfort over her 'tidying' my room while I was out. A message from you: here, waiting, parked by canal. But no hurry, I'm told, you have sandwich and crisps to consume. In my windowless room at the very top of the house, I search for clothes suited to clammy air, the suggestion of rain, and a climb up Stoodley Pike.' (Introduction)
(Introduction)