Cirrus@Austlit

'This is not the first Australian literary work of note to be called Rooted. Alex Buzo’s play of the same name caused some fuss in 1969, when his Norm and Ahmed was causing even more, with its actors in Melbourne and Brisbane being charged with using offensive language. They said fucking – the devastating racial slur it modified at the play’s end was apparently of less concern. In the half century since, racial slurs have displaced obscenity as ‘the bad language of our times’ (242). Tracking such shifts is one of the great strengths of Laugesen’s fascinating account of Australians’ historical use of profanity, obscenity, expletives and derogatory language.' (Introduction) 

'How does a new society learn to think of itself as old? The question has particular resonance for Tasmania, which was arguably the first of the Australian colonies to register that it had a historic past but one that respectable opinion sought to live down. Yet history insistently lingered on as vulgar sensation-seeking tourists raked over the convict past. In Tasmania tourism helped forge a new historical consciousness. This essay sketches some of the mechanisms by which Tasmanians came to appreciate their history. The challenge was to convert this lowbrow interest in a disreputable past into a middlebrow tourism industry. “Travel writing”, broadly defined, contributed to the process by emphasising Tasmania’s Englishness, developing an aesthetic appreciation of its historical fabric and, through state legitimation, demonstrating the civic virtue inherent in history tourism.'

Source: Abstract.

'Across the twentieth century, Britain drew more Australian tourists for longer and more intense experiences than anywhere else, though as early as the 1970s Asia was attracting more Australians than Europe. They found much to admire and to deprecate in Britain but above all they were seduced by Britain’s past, or what they imagined it to be. This paper examines the Australian experience of history in Britain, their admiration for notions of tradition, for an unchanging village life, for fading imperial glory, for sheer antiquity. Some looked for their own ancestors and family but most were satisfied to have their school lessons and imaginative reading validated by being there. The response they had to British history was an intensely emotional one: this article argues that it was a result not of imperial sentiment but of a desire for a deep and meaningful past.'

Source: Abstract.

'How did the kangaroo transform from a bizarre curiosity to an internationally recognised symbol of Australia? How did Vegemite, a waste product of beer, come to be the most popular spread in the country? How did the Opera House survive early controversy to become a national symbol equal to the Pyramids or the Taj Mahal? And does the pavlova belong to Australia or New Zealand?

'Australia is a land of symbols. From the curious, the folkloric, the official, the ancient, the inspiring, the commercial, the lovable, the feared, even the edible, these symbols make the abstract concept of the nation tangible and give us an identity by representing Australia to itself and the world. But how are national symbols created? What makes them popular? Do they unite or divide the nation? And what do they really mean?

'Symbols of Australia uncovers the stories behind Australia's best-loved symbols. Entertaining, provocative and often surprising, it proves that while some may seem quirky or frivolous and others get taken for granted, they all have significance that goes beyond the surface.' (From the publisher's website.)

'History Australia is the official journal of the Australian Historical Association ... [It] aims to reflect the concerns, to publish the research product, and to increase the professional self-awareness of all those historians currently making and applying history in the nation and the community. It publishes refereed articles, debates, reviews of historical works, and news items.'

(Source: History Australia, vol.2 no.2, June 2005)