Showing posts with label Blue Mountains. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blue Mountains. Show all posts

Monday, 14 January 2019

In the Mist of the Mountains by Ethel Turner

Thanks to Bill @The Australian Legend's Australian Women Writer's Gen II Week I have read my very first ebook from start to finish.

As with almost everything in my life at the last moment, I left it to the minute to prepare for Bill's Gen II week, even though I've known about it for months. I really enjoyed reading my first Ada Cambridge story, Sisters, for last year's Gen I event, so I didn't want to miss out. But with only days to spare, I realised that I had no unread AWW Gen II books on my shelf. Anything I did select would have to be easily sourced and a short story if I was going to have any chance of reading & reviewing it in time.

Normally I hate reading novels on a screen. My one attempt with an eReader a number of years ago, was nothing but an exercise in frustration. However, last week, it dawned on me that the ipad I inherited from my father-in-law, might actually be an okay device to read on in a pinch. As this was now an emergency reading situation, I searched Project Gutenberg for the authors on Bill's Gen II list. I downloaded a few, but the one that jumped straight out at me was an Ethel Turner story.

I confess that I thought that she had only written Seven Little Australians plus a sequel or two. Imagine my delight to discover, whilst holidaying in the Blue Mountains last week, a book by Turner called In the Mist of the Mountains. Serendipity at work I say!


For a full discussion about the Bush Realism that defines this period of Australian writing (roughly 1890 - 1923) please read Bill's post via the link above.

It seems to me that the mythology that evolved about life in the bush at this time in history, came from white men living in an urban environment (Paterson, Lawson, Kendall etc), conscious of their role in creating a unique Australian identity. White settlement was just a hundred years old and many of these men (and women) were the first generation to be born and raised in Australia. Nostalgia for Mother England was something they grew up with, but it didn't necessarily fit in with life as they knew it. Australia was their home and they were looking for something they could be proud of, that they could call their own. The wilderness, the untamed bush landscape, so alien to their parents, was something familiar, unique and heroic to this new generation. A sense of journey or exploration featured in this type of writing and those that took the journey into the bush were admired for their courage, fortitude, practicality and resourcefulness.

To say that I have now became intensely curious about how women writer's fit into this myth making process and how they tackled this topic, is an understatement!

Penleigh Boyd (1890 - 1923, Australia) Blue Haze. 1919

In the Mist of the Mountains may not be the perfect example of Bush Realism, but it was very definite in it's choice of setting and very proud of this unique bush environment.

By 1908, the Blue Mountains was becoming (as it is now) a halfway place between the city and the bush proper. In this short, romantic story, Turner shows us the meeting of city and bush types. We see the locals - the baker, the butcher, the shoe repairman who inhabit the small villages dotted along the train track through the mountains and we see the urban folk who clamber up the misty November slopes to escape summer in the city. We also get to know one young larrikin, Larkin, a lad of fifteen or so who works for the local grocer.

He grew up on the other side of the mountain, on a 'wretched selection where his father...his mother and six or seven children younger than Larkin, fought the losing fight of the Man on the Land.' He dreams of being able to save up his commissions to 'put "a bit of stuff" on the Melbourne Cup...."then mother and the old man shall chuck up that dirty selection..., and the kids can go to school, an' I'll get Polly an' Blarnche a pianner."'

The Lomaxes are a large family belonging to a Sydney judge. The children are holidaying in the mountains to recover from a bout of whooping cough with a governess, while their parents vacation in New Zealand. 'Unlike many Australians, (they) respected the hand of Nature even when it had traced Australian rather than English design on their land.'

Down, down they went into the exquisite gorge; greener and still green grew the way as the path wound farther and farther away from the sunburnt lands overhead. Giant tree ferns grouped themselves together in one place and in another guarded the path in sentinel-like rows. You looked up and sheer walls of rock towered thousands of feet above your head - brown, naked, rugged walls here- and there, where the waterfall dripped, clothed in a marvellous mantle of young ferns. Here a huge, jagged promontory stretched across your way, and the diplomatic path, unable to force a way through, simply ceased its downward bent, and with handrails and steps led you up again.


I really enjoyed reading such obvious love for the Australian environment and particularly admired the judge's desire to create a native garden rather than an English garden in their mountains home.

As a newbie to Project Gutenberg I found myself reading all the details provided including the licensing agreement and the cover page details (below).

Ethel Turner (Mrs H. R. Curlewis)
1908 published by Ward Lock & Co London
Illustrations by J. MacFarlane
Project Gutenberg Ebook 4th Feb 2008

To H.R.C
"They that have heard the overword
Know life's a dream worth dreaming."
Henley.


I realised from this that I knew next to nothing about Ethel Turner's life.

A quick check of the Australian Dictionary of Biography revealed that Ethel Mary Burwell was born in Yorkshire on the 24th January 1870. Her big sister was Lillian Wattnall Burwell (1867 - 1956). Sadly their father died not long after Ethel's birth. Their mother, Sarah Jane Shaw, remarried in 1872, a widower with six children of his own, Henry Turner (sounds rather like the family in Seven Little Australians!) Sadly he also died not long afterwards, in 1878, leaving the family in financial difficulties.

Mrs Turner decided to emigrate to Australia with her two daughters in 1879. In Sydney, she married Charles Cope at the end of 1880 and had a son with him, Charles Rex.

The girls went to Sydney Girls' High School and started a school magazine called Iris, to compete with their friend Louise Mack's Gazette. When the sisters left school they 'co-edited a sixpenny monthly, the Parthenon', while Ethel also contributed to children's pages in various papers until 1919.

In 1894 she published Seven Little Australian, and in 1896 she married Herbert Raine Curlewis, a young Sydney barrister. They had a daughter (Ethel Jean Sophia) and son (Adrian Herbert), living most of their married life at Avenal overlooking Middle Harbour.

The biography claims that,
Her writing showed a continuing tension between her enjoyment of popular and commercial success and her wish to break free from the restrictions of juvenile fiction....A recurring theme in the Turner novels is that of the conflicting demands of the creative and the domestic life.

Both these tensions were on display In the Mist of the Mountain. Part children's summer holiday romp, part rom-com and part literary diversion. I was pleased that this simple summer holiday story morphed into a gentle romance between two ageing characters - the governess and the writer, escaping to the mountains to rediscover his muse. Turner's publishers rebuked her for using Australian slang in her stories, but I'm so glad she ignored them and continued to give her characters a local vernacular. Young Larkin's enthusiastic speech was a delight to read.

Turner wrote thirty-four volumes of fiction, three of verse, a travel book, plays, and miscellaneous verse and prose before her death on the 8th April 1958. She also left behind journals and letters that have been published in 1979 and 1982. According to wikipedia, In the Mist of the Mountains was originally published in 1906.

Ethel Turner posing in the window of her study at her Mosman home, ‘Avenel’ 1928 (Cazneaux)

Sunday, 19 November 2017

The Ladies of Missalonghi by Colleen McCullough

Regular followers of my blog will already know how much I love The Ladies of Missalonghi. It's not only a deliciously light, confectionery offering of a book, it's also a murky story mired down in a controversy involving plagiarism and L. M. Montgomery's The Blue Castle. A recent readalong for The Blue Castle was all the convincing I needed to not only reread it, but also to tack Missalonghi onto my #AusReadingMonth TBR pile.

The last time I read the books, TBC was read after TLOM, and The Ladies came out slightly ahead in personal preference, so I decided to reverse the order this time. And guess what? This time The Blue Castle was the preferred story.


I love the setting of TLOM. The Blue Mountains is one of my favourite places in NSW, in fact, Mr Books and I were married 8 years ago on a Blue Mountains clifftop overlooking one of the beautiful valleys mentioned in the story. It's wildness and grand views are perfect for a BIG romance and the cool nights seem designed for snuggling up with a cosy book and someone you love. But I could be biased! (FYI - Byron is a fictional Blue Mountains village, but it could also be any of the gorgeous villages that do actually hug the line of the cliffs and the railway).



On winter mornings the valley was filled with brilliant white cloud that sat like milk below the level of the cliff tops, and suddenly as the sun increased in warmth it would lift up in a moment and vanish. Sometimes the cloud would come down from above, fingers seeking out the tree tops far below until it succeeded in covering them from sight under a spectral blanket. And as sunset approached, winter and summer, the cliffs began to take on deeper, richer colour, glowering rose-red, then crimson, and finally purple that faded into night's mysterious indigo. Most wonderful of all was the rare snow, when all the crags and outcrops of the clilffs were picked out in white, and the moving leafy trees shook off their powdering of icy moisture as fast as it fell upon them, unwilling to accept a touch so alien.

This is the mountains to a tee!



I also love that Missy's immediate family in TLOM are much kinder and more loving than poor Valancy's in TBC. Missy has grown up poor with a strict but loving mother. She knows what poverty and love  feels like. Poor Valancy only knows poverty.

Both novels can be seen as fairly classic examples of the romance genre - with a down trodden, plain heroine-to-be, a family that gets in her way/puts her down/hides her away, a mysterious, stranger hero-to-be, a misunderstanding that becomes the agent of change so that our 'to-be's' finally become fully fledged heroine and hero, in love and living happily ever after!

It has been suggested by some reviews I've read online, that McCullough's story is in fact a parody of the romance genre, but for a parody to work, there have to be clear signs for the reader to pick up on. Having read both books more than once, I couldn't find any evidence of parody or spoof, although McCullough does seem a little self-conscious at times.

The mystery in TLOM is more modern, and dare I say a more believable story (despite the ghost!) than Valancy's mere wondering about what on earth it is that Barney gets up to in his locked room. The satisfaction the reader gets when Missy's extended family get their comeuppance is far more thrilling than the mild pleasure we feel when we eventually discover what most readers have already worked out about who Barney really is and what he is doing.

As for the ghost in TLOM!
Where did that come from? 
I don't think that McCullough gives the reader anywhere near enough clues and it isn't resolved very well, but it does inject a lovely bit of fairy tale-like magic into this romance. And it's the feel of this story that people respond to after all, not the logic.

The main thrill for readers of TBC is Valancy's blossoming. In true Cinderella style, Valancy overcomes parental and societal restrictions to finally come into her own and be happy in a life of her own choosing. She does it all by herself and we couldn't be prouder! Whereas Missy is guided and encouraged by Una to do the same.

The deception at the heart of both stories is one that Valancy also visited on herself. She is totally unaware that the doctor's letter was not meant for her. Whereas Missy sets out to deceive to get her man. And that's where TLOM loses a little of its charm, but gains some in moral complexity.

Did McCullough plagiarise The Blue Castle?
The jury still seems to be out on this.

Both Montgomery and McCullough are frequently associated with national stereotypes: as McCullough ruefully acknowledges, part of her problem seems to be that she has interfered with an author who is a ‘Canadian icon’. Montgomery’s writing is recognised as playing a major role in establishing one of the most persistent images of Canadians—as wholesome, vigorous, close to nature. On the other hand McCullough’s own brashness and sense of herself as a tall poppy under attack draw upon a stereotypically Australian set of images. The authors in play in this controversy, then, are recognisably national, if quite dissimilar.

                                                   (Double Trouble: One or Two Women? Gillian Whitlock, March 26 2015, Meanjin Quarterly)

McCullough always denied any plagiarism. However her theory that she was merely using the known tropes of romantic fiction doesn't really hold up either. There are just too many similarities.

I suspect the truth, as always, lies somewhere in the middle.

As an Anne fan, McCullough no doubt read The Blue Castle at some point in her childhood, but didn't remember doing so. Instead it stayed, tucked away, cosy and warm in her subconscious, until she was ready to write her very own fairy tale romance. The controversy doesn't diminish either story, and can actually be seen as a bonus. Thanks to the debate, both books have now been read by a much wider audience than what may have happened if they'd just been left to their own devices. I, for one, would never have discovered TBC if not for the controversy and I will always be grateful for that.

Both books are light, sweet, fluffy reads, just like a box of chocolate or a glass of bubbles! They're perfect in small doses or as a tonic to lift you out of the blues. And together, they are a splendid way to spend a rainy weekend, comparing and contrasting, til your heart's content!

LyzzyBee's 2017 TLOM review
My 2017 reread of The Blue Castle
Naomi @Consumed by Ink's review for the 2017 The Blue Castle re-readalong
My very first read of The Blue Castle in 2014
My original 2013 flashback post for The Ladies of Missalonghi that got me started on this journey.

Thursday, 10 August 2017

The Last Days of Ava Langdon by Mark O'Flynn

The Last Days of Ava Langdon has been shortlisted for this year's Miles Franklin award, that fact, and it's striking cover, brought it into my life at this time.


I have yet to read Eve Langley's The Pea-Pickers (1942) - it has been on my TBR pile for quite some time though. Reading O'Flynn's fictionalised account of Langley's last days has increased my desire to read it sooner rather than later.

In O'Flynn's story, Langdon's famous book is called The Apple Pickers. Her real life son, Karl Marx is re-named Vladimir Ilyich (yes, really!), but her alter ego remains Oscar Wilde. Both Eve and Ava changed their name by deed poll in 1954 to Oscar Wilde.

Ava is eccentric, mentally unstable and colourful. She would now be labelled as having gender identity confusion. O'Flynn uses flashes of clarity and flashbacks to earlier times to gently reveal her story. His writes with a great deal of affection, empathy and respect for his invented character and her real-life counterpart. Most of the time I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

O'Flynn mentions in his notes at the back of the book that,
if anything she was probably more addled than I portrayed here.

Which only makes Ava/Eva's story even more bittersweet and poetic.

O'Flynn shows how her very (over)active imagination acts/reacts to every day events happening around her by using a present tense third person interior monologue.

An example looks a little like this (from pg 20):
Ava's imagination brings sentience to the world and casts it in a luminous light, like looking at a dragonfly in a bottle. Her hand briefly touches the bark of every tree trunk. For Ava the orchard is a gentle reminder of those glory days when she went fruit picking with Red, the way breakfast is a reminder of every breakfast as, in fact, an echo of the breast. An orchard is a place of whispering, familiar voices. Where are they now. her happy ghosts? Why, alive in her heart, that's where.  How long has the orchard, originally propagated by monks, been here surrounded by bush? Ava does not know, but she offers up a vote of thanks to the old forward-thinking Franciscans who planted it in the first place. Good lads, those chaps. She wonders if she has the heart to be a Franciscan. A vow of silence? Hardly. A vow of genius. Yes, more like it.

Having spent quite a bit of time in Katoomba over the years, I also really loved the walk that Ava took us on through 1970's Katoomba and Medlow Bath, especially Ava's evening visit to the the Hydro Majestic which happens to be a significant part of my own story.

O'Flynn is a local to the Blue Mountains. He did an interview with Megalong Books in Leura where he replied to a question about the type of research he did to prepare for this book with,
As Peter Carey says of research, I probably did less than you’d think and more than I’d like.

The Miles Franklin Award stipulates that the,
prize shall be awarded for the Novel for the year which is of the highest literary merit and which must present Australian Life in any of its phases.

Having read only one of the five shortlisted books I cannot compare literary merit, but The Last Days of Ava Langdon certainly ticks the second criteria very nicely.