Cirrus@Austlit

'It is easy to imagine book-buyers nodding with approval at the subtitle of this biography: ‘The making of a larrikin’. With ‘larrikin’ today applied to knockabout young men who are irreverent and mischievous but genuinely good-hearted, Bob Hawke seems a quintessential example. Yes, the myth goes, he used slipshod language now and then, and was quite a sight when he was in his cups, but generally Hawkie was a top bloke, a man who would call a spade a spade, a mate who could sup with princes and paupers but never forget who he was.' (Introduction)

'Encountering Donald Horne’s writings today makes for a different experience compared to reading his books fresh off the presses. Where his portrayal and his criticisms of mid-century Australian life seem to me, half a century after publication, apt and amusing, his contemporaneous readers had different responses. Upon reading the Lucky Country (1964), for example, former prime ministerial department head Allen Brown told Robert Menzies that Horne’s opinions on matters Brown knew about were simply “wrong and ill-informed”; a reviewer of the same book famously shrugged in the Canberra Times that it had all been said before and would be “forgotten by the end of the summer”.' (Introduction)

'This week on the ABR Podcast we review a profile of opposition leader Peter Dutton. Bad Cop: Peter Dutton’s strongman politics by Lech Blaine is the ninety-third issue of the BlackInc Quarterly Essay. In his review of Bad Cop, political biographer Patrick Mullins begins by comparing Dutton to another cop-turned-politician in Bill Hayden. Listen to Patrick Mullins with ‘”Some grotesque Minotaur”: Peter Dutton’s aggressive formation’, published in the May issue of ABR.' (Production summary)

'In probing the shortcomings of George Orwell’s biographers has Anna Funder fallen into traps of her own?'

'When the first season of Aaron Sorkin’s Newsroom premièred in Australia in 2012, Foxtel had its own onscreen news talent cut a series of promos. A bevy of ageless news anchors – all dense hairdos and blazing white teeth – talked admiringly of how the series portrayed their profession. Journalism, in their telling, was fast-paced, often self-righteous, occasionally fallible, but ultimately always a noble occupation that served the public’s interest. Leigh Sales’s new book, Storytellers, follows a similar line, with the content and even the cover art – a black and white photo of Sales at her news desk, shot from behind, à la Will McAvoy – evincing the same reverence for journalism. Implicitly, too, there is the same nostalgia for the days when everything was just a bit more straightforward.' (Introduction)

'In 1968, Rupert Murdoch was one step from acquiring his first international media holding, in the British tabloid The News of the World. That Murdoch was so close was a personal coup, given that his press ownership had begun sixteen years earlier with a much-diminished inheritance, largely based in Adelaide. To pull off the News of the World acquisition, however, Murdoch needed government approval to transfer $10 million Australian offshore. Speed, secrecy, and surety were pivotal, and in search of all three Murdoch went to John McEwen, the deputy prime minister and leader of the Country Party. The two had an enduring bond: McEwen had helped Murdoch buy his grazing station and family bolthole, Cavan, and when McEwen was appointed acting prime minister after the death of Harold Holt in 1967, Murdoch had argued in The Australian that McEwen should be prime minister in his own right. Now, in 1968, McEwen took Murdoch to the prime minister, John Gorton, who was also familiar with the young press baron. Gorton had briefly been lined up to work for Murdoch’s father in the 1930s and owed something of his present job now to the influence Murdoch had wielded when it became clear that McEwen could not remain prime minister.' (Introduction)   

'In early March 2023, Tanya Plibersek fronted an audience at the Australian National University to question historian Chris Wallace about her newly released account of twentieth-century prime ministers and their biographers. Coming shortly before the publication of Margaret Simons’s biography of her, Plibersek’s interest in the dynamics of writing about a living, breathing, vote-seeking politician seemed prompted by more than mere professional courtesy. ‘It’s like building a golem, in the shape of a person, in a way, isn’t it?’ she remarked. ‘And then you’re putting magic into it and animating it. It comes out of the mud.’'  (Introduction) 

'Harold Holt has been the subject of only one biography and a significant amount of conjecture. The former is arguably the result of a lack of personal papers that might flesh out the life of Australia’s 17th prime minister; the latter is certainly thanks to the bizarrely banal circumstances of his disappearance and presumed death in 1967. Stories of Chinese submarines and suicide so occluded the real question posed by these events that Holt’s first biographer, Tom Frame, felt it necessary to spend a litany of pages debunking them. Why Holt decided to ignore his health problems and enter waters that were notoriously dangerous for even the fittest of swimmers has always been hard to fathom but—in what speaks to the opportunity that biography provides—Ross Walker’s Harold Holt: Always One Step Further offers a convincing and artful answer.'  (Introduction)

'Lachlan Murdoch will almost certainly be the next head of News Corp, one of the world’s largest media companies and the dominant force in Australia’s media landscape. In this week’s ABR Podcast, Patrick Mullins, visiting fellow at the ANU’s National Centre of Biography, reviews a new biography of Lachlan Murdoch by Paddy Manning, titled The Successor: The high-stakes life of Lachlan Murdoch. Listen to Mullins read ‘Dual Focus’, which appears in the December issue of ABR.' (Introduction)

'In the 1990s, seeing a ‘hot-red weapon’ of a motorbike being ridden into the News Corp car park in Sydney, journalist Paddy Manning could not help but ask, ‘What’s that?’ Still wearing his helmet, the rider answered that the bike was an MV Agusta – at which point Manning realised he had yelled at Lachlan Murdoch.' (Introduction) 

'The Australian Broadcasting Corporation is under an existential threat, especially from the conservative federal government, even though it is the best-trusted news organisation in Australia, and plays a vital role in Australian life.

'For years, the ABC’s funding has been slashed, forcing it to let go journalists with decades of experience in asking hard questions about anyone and everyone, including government. It has been besieged by written complaints from ministers, hectoring by prime ministers, and intense pressure on its most senior executives. Its board has been stacked with a succession of political appointees. It has been relentlessly, often baselessly, attacked by the Murdoch media.

'Apart from the external attacks, the ABC has also inflicted damage on itself. It has not only shed staff but has cut important programs; contentious enterprises have been dropped and replaced by benign, inoffensive ones. It is not surprising that staff morale at the ABC has sunk in recent years.

'This book details how the travails of the ABC in this period fit into a global debate about the role of public broadcasting in the modern era. Who Needs the ABC? also takes seriously the arguments made for the ABC’s break-up and privatisation, and offers a rejoinder to those calls. It doesn't shy away from the failings that have led to the ABC’s current parlous position, but it identifies the vital role that it plays in Australian cultural and democratic life, and argues for a continuation of that role — and shows how it can be done.'

Source : publisher's blurb

'Gideon Haigh’s new book throws fresh light on the remarkable H.V. Evatt'

'One grey morning in October 1970, in a crowded, tizzy-pink courtroom on the corner of Melbourne’s Russell and La Trobe Streets, crown prosecutor Leonard Flanagan began denouncing a novel in terms that were strident and ringing.' (Introduction)

'For more than seventy years, a succession of politicians, judges, and government officials in Australia worked in the shadows to enforce one of the most pervasive and conservative regimes of censorship in the world. The goal was simple: to keep Australia free of the moral contamination of impure literature. Under the censorship regime, books that might damage the morals of the Australian public were banned, seized, and burned; bookstores were raided; publishers were fined; and writers were charged and even jailed. But in the 1970s, that all changed.

'In 1970, in great secrecy and at considerable risk, Penguin Books Australia resolved to publish Portnoy’s Complaint — Philip Roth’s frank, funny, and profane bestseller about a man hung up about his mother and his penis. In doing so, Penguin spurred a direct confrontation with the censorship authorities, which culminated in criminal charges, police raids, and an unprecedented series of court trials across the country.

'Sweeping from the cabinet room to the courtroom, The Trials of Portnoy draws on archival records and new interviews to show how Penguin and a band of writers, booksellers, academics, and lawyers determinedly sought for Australians the freedom to read what they wished — and how, in defeating the forces arrayed before them, they reshaped Australian literature and culture forever.'

Source: Publisher's blurb.

'The oddly compelling story of a man regarded as Australia’s worst prime minister.

'William McMahon was a significant, if widely derided and disliked, figure in Australian politics in the second half of the twentieth century. This biography tells the story of his life, his career, and his doomed attempts to recast views of his much-maligned time as Australia’s prime minister.

'In office, McMahon worked furiously to enact an agenda that grappled with the profound changes reshaping Australia. He withdrew combat forces from Vietnam, legislated for Commonwealth government involvement in childcare, established the first Department of the Environment, and accelerated the timetable for the independence of Papua New Guinea. But his failures would overshadow his successes, and by the time of the 1972 election McMahon would lead a divided, tired, and rancorous party to defeat.

'A man whose life was coloured by tragedy, comedy, persistence, courage, farce, and failure, McMahon’s story has never been told at length. Tiberius with a Telephone fills that gap, using deep archival research and extensive interviews with McMahon’s contemporaries and colleagues. It is a tour de force — an authoritative, compelling, and colourful account of a unique politician and a vital period in Australia’s history.'

Source: Publisher's blurb.