'This April ABR considers the importance of talk. In his cover essay, historian Frank Bongiorno argues that the Albanese government’s storytelling, not just its actions, directs the ‘possibilities of politics’. Sheila Fitzpatrick gives a moving portrait of her friendship with ‘recording angel’ Katerina Clark and G. Geltner pushes us to rethink our Middle-Ages chatter. Sascha Morrell comes around to the ‘winks and nudges’ in a major new biography of Frank Moorhouse and Frances Wilson insists Hilary Mantel will speak for herself in death. Glyn Davis tells us about a floating university and Morag Fraser puzzles over mothers. There’s Michael Hofmann on Nam Le’s 36 Ways of Writing a Vietnamese Poem, Stuart Kells on rogue corporations, and Robyn Arianrhod on the moon.' (Publication summary)
'Frank Moorhouse: Strange paths has no introduction, but Matthew Lamb describes it in his author’s note as ‘the first in a projected two-volume cultural biography of Frank Moorhouse’, covering the long writing apprenticeship of 1938–74 during which Moorhouse ‘br[oke] into the literary establishment, on his own terms’. Lamb does not explain his use of the term ‘cultural biography’ within the book, but the term is apt to describe how ‘biography intersects with social history’ as the book tracks Moorhouse’s ‘negotiation of shifting social conventions and historical moments’ (as Lamb puts it in an article on the Penguin website titled ‘“When the facts conflict with the legend” – How does a biographer balance storytelling with the truth?’).' (Introduction)
'When Georgia Blain died at the age of fifty-one in 2016, the reading public was robbed of a superb prose writer in her prime. Her final and, some consider, best novel, Between a Wolf and a Dog (2016), achieved wide critical acclaim. Shortly after Blain succumbed to brain cancer, that novel went on to win or be shortlisted in a slew of national prizes.' (Introduction)
'A feminist triumph and homage to Virginia Woolf, Miranda Darling’s Thunderhead is a potent exploration of suburban entrapment for women. The novella opens with a complex satire of Ian McEwan’s response to Woolf’s Mrs Dalloway (1925) in his novel Saturday (2005). All three books are set over the course of a single day, where the intricacies of both the quotidian and extraordinary occur. In this novella’s opening paragraphs, Darling’s protagonist, Winona Dalloway, wakes to see the sky ablaze through her window. While ‘it is dawn in the suburbs of the east’ – rather than a burning plane, evoking 9/11 terrorism, as in McEwan’s novel – she believes it ‘telegraphs a warning, red sky in the morning’. This refers to the opening of Mrs Dalloway, where Clarissa Dalloway feels, ‘standing there at the open window, that something awful was about to happen’.' (Introduction)
(Introduction)
