'Not much has been written about Tim Winton's recently published novel The Riders (1994 ), which was shortlisted for the Booker Prize in 1995. Referred to as his first "adult" novel since Cloudstreet (1991), it traces the lives of the main character Scully and his seven-year-old daughter Billie, who travel throughout Europe in search of Jennifer, their wife and mother, respectively, only to realize at last that she will never come back to them again. The Celtic "riders" Scully catches a glimpse of at the Leap castle in Ireland at the beginning of the novel, and which both himself and his daughter Billie see again at the end, known from some of the poems written by W.B. Yeats and, more recently, from Patrick White's Riders in the Chariot, apocalyptically (like the Riders of the Apocalypse) anticipate the dissolution of his marriage. This is indeed reconfirmed during his second sighting of the riders towards the end of the novel, when he returns to Ireland with Billie only to start his life all over again with a different set of priorities. One of the most qualified attempts trying to define the two visions of the riders described in the novel, in terms of the post-Saussurean concept of the sign, is a recent article by Andrew Taylor "What can be read, and what can only be seen in Tim Winton's fiction" (Taylor 1996).' (Publication abstract)
'Where is "somewhere new"? As denoted by the title in his new collection of short stories, Michael Wilding perceives it in a symbolic sense, as a place of potential, away from the centre on the decentralizing margin, a place that enables a fresh new start, a future. It can be just anywhere, in Australia on a Sydney beach or the Balmain part of the harbour, in the United States on Jack Kerouac's beloved Mississippi river which really stands for the river Severn in Wilding's native England, or in North Africa. Michael Wilding's (born 1942) recently published collection of twenty new and selected short stories Somewhere New: New and Selected Stories (1996) shows just how very much alive the short story tradition still is on the Australian literary scene. It draws on seven previous volumes from over thirty years of writing, including classics like, for example, "The Man of Slow Feeling" (1986) and "Reading the Signs" ( 1984 ), the title stories of two of his early short story collections, as well as new, previously uncollected pieces on drugs, politics, sex and the literary life.' (Publication abstract)
' On a lovely January afternoon in Sydney, while sipping tea in the ornately decorated lobby of the Mitchell Library, I was introduced by a mutual friend to a rather short balding man with a stern look and an undefinable fire in his eyes: he was Andrew Riemer, who like the rest of us crowd attended the New South Wales Writers' conference in 1995. I immediately recognized him as the author of my recently purchased book discussed here, The Habsburg Cafe (1993), a travelogue recounting his voyage through some of the countries of Central Europe, Austria and Hungary, the area to which, as regards its habits, food, architecture and the like, also belongs my native country Slovenia. This is why it probably caught my attention on the bookshelf, for I was most curious to see the former countries of the Habsburg and the later Austro-Hungarian monarchy through the eyes of both an outsider and an insider to the region, the fine observation of a Hungarian-born, migrant Australian author, Andrew Riemer.' (Publication abstract)
'It is amazing to see just how much travel writing, writmg which does not exclusively belong to this sub-genre of "creative non-fiction", and also how many non-Australian settings with emphasis on European and Asian ones there are in recent contemporary writing. This fact certainly speaks about a certain preoccupation or downright trait in the Australian national character. Perhaps, it is a reflection of a particular condition of being down under, derived from "a tradition of colonialism and post-colonialism; from geographical location, both a deterrent and a spur; from post-Romantic literary tradition, coinciding with the early years of white settlement; and from the universal lure of ideas of travel, never more flourishing than at the present" (Hergenhan, Petersson xiii).' (Publication abstract)
' It has to be stressed from the outset that Slovene migrants in Australia have written and published mostly verse, first in Slovene and more recently also in English. As far as fiction is concerned, they have produced mainly short pieces in prose of various genres, again most frequently in the Slovene language, which were published in Slovene migrant press. Only recently, however, there have four book-length novel-like prose works appeared, written either by Slovene migrants (Ivan Kobal, Janko Majnik) or by Australians of non-Slovene descent (Victoria Zabukovec, Richard Flanagan), who are in some way connected with the Slovene migrant community in Australia. If there does exist such a literary (sub)genre as a migrant novel, then these works can be labelled as such. Very different in scope and method, they, however, in each case represent a valuable testimony to the rich Slovene migrant literary production in Australia and a contribution to the preservation of the historical memory of the Slovene community in Australia. The fourth novel, The Sound of One Hand Clapping, undoubtedly has the greatest artistic value from among the four. It was published in 1997, shortlisted for the Miles Franklin Award in 1998, and was written by Richard Flanagan, an Australian writer of non-Slovene descent married to an Australian born of Slovene parents.' (Publication abstract)
'During my last study stay in Australia in 1994 I got hold of two handsome newly published books of poems that caught my attention as a European scholar doing research "down under". These two books discussed here are: On the Move: Australian Poets in Europe (1992), edited by Geoff Page, and Changing Places: Australian Writers in Europe (1994), edited by Laurie Hergenhan and Irmtraud Petersson. They have attracted some criticism in Australia, but hardly so in Europe, where the poems are set. It seems to be our task, of us European literary critics, to amend this, which this paper sets out to do.' (Publication abstract)
'Slovenia has only recently come to feature in mainstream Australian literature, more precisely in contemporary Australian poetry. It should be stressed that Slovenia is no longer present only in Slovene migrant poetry written in Australia as it has so far been the case: it entered the major contemporary Australian anthologies. This testifies to the fact that Slovenia no longer belongs to the uncharted part of Central Europe on the geographical and consequently also on the literary map. Rather than that Slovenia increasingly makes part of an average Australian "Grand Tour" travel itinerary in Europe; it has thus entered the Australian cultural consciousness. In this light two recent Australian poems with Slovenia as a literary locale are discussed, Andrew Taylor's "Morning in Ljubljana" (Taylor) and Susan Hampton's poem Yugoslav Story" {Hampton)' (Publication abstract)
'The first Slovene experiences of Australia, if one of the first documented visits of a Slovene to Australia is taken into consideration, go back into the colonial period. A certain Matija Kliner arrived to Australia sometime between 1857 and 1859, when he was working on the Austrian (Habsburg) military ship on its journey around the world. Rihard Poga~nik came to Australia in 1860, working as a navigation officer on one of the steamers owned by Lloyd's from Trieste (Trst). Anton Dolenc was during 1890 and 1891 on an Austrian military ship likewise making its way around the world and also stopped in Australia. He kept a diary about his journey on which he reported in the then Slovene papers. It is interesting, though, that none of these early Slovene visitors of Australia decided to stay for good, although the gold rush still swept the land and attracted many settlers from other European countries.' (Publication abstract)
'Many Slovene migrants in Australia, especially those belonging to the younger generation, have come to accept Australia as a new, second homeland, a lucky and in many ways promised country. (Of course, those authors born to Slovene parents regard themselves as Australians, but they are interested in their "roots".) Like so many other migrants from various countries of the world, their parents have gone through the process of adaptation and assimilation, which is why they experience a certain linguistic "schizophrenia" that is to be taken as a new positive value. Consequently, they use in their writing, along with Slovene, also English. Although written in English, their work is thus partly the fruit of Slovene poetic sensibility as well as the new Australian experience. For these poets the traditional "migrant" themes are (in most cases) no longer true, such as for example the exaggerated sentimental nostalgia for home or the difficulties to assert oneself in a new environment.' (Publication abstract)
