AustLit
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AbstractHistoryArchive Description
'On the same July day that a 5,800km section of the Larsen C ice shelf calved off from Antarctica, sending Twitter into a fresh bout of eco-anxiety, one of us was people-watching a Melbourne street where all appeared to be business as usual. Despite the rain, teens queued for supersized cartoon-pink iced donuts; one 4WD driver got into a fight with another, after stealing her park. It was the type of prosaic horror that might be found in a short story by George Saunders, whose absurdist fiction compassionately engages with our times, and who happens to be interviewed in this issue. “Don’t be afraid to be confused,” writes Saunders in The Braindead Megaphone—as if there were another option available to us in this winter of stuplimity.'
'('Why haven’t you let them out? Why have you not let them into your society?')'
(Editorial)
Contents
-
Antimemoir as in Fuck You (as in Fuck Me),
single work
essay
(p. 5-9)
'Stones underfoot; they're slope-faced, many thousands of them, ancient as the moon. They crunch as she hobbles over them from the water's edge towards the castle. She should have worn her runners. Up ahead, Kronborg - Elsinore, for today - is as vast and regal as any castle. The scene is so familiar, though how should it be? It's her first time in Denmark.' (Introduction)
-
The Critic in the Episode 'the Nation State',
single work
essay
(p. 17-21)
' 1.in which we doubt former certainties "I was listening to a program on oral poetry, on Radio National," said Liz, one morning over breakfast. "You know what they said about Australia? They said that there is one classic genre of poetry missing from the Australian tradition, and it's love poetry.' (Introduction)
-
In Praise of a Plain Life,
single work
autobiography
(p. 61-66)
'These days, it's easy to get the impression that people are really very anxious. Who? you ask. Well, people you hear about. People who tell you they are. Friends. Lovers. Acquaintances. Colleagues. The Youth. The term is around and people are applying it to themselves, or having it applied to them, willy- nilly. People are talking about anxiety plenty, getting diagnosed by certified professionals as "anxious." It's concerning; it's distressing. Debilitating, often. It can dismantle a life, they say. It can erode your well-being and capacity for connection. You can become a real pain in the arse. Stuff like that.' (Introduction)
- An Architecture of Early Motherhood and Independence, single work prose (p. 97-106)
- When You're Scared of Dogs, single work autobiography (p. 118-121)
-
Pwip,
single work
short story
(p. 122-124)
'I became a Buddhist after a Schoolies trip to Thailand.' The guest speaker was tanned and had wide shoulders that strained at the seams of his navy suit. He reminded me of Brad Pitt's wax figure in Madame Tussauds Museum down near Darling Harbour. Back in Year 8, we had a day collecting donations for the Cancer Council. My best friend Tammy and I snuck into the wax museum instead. Tammy pretended to marry Brad Pitt and I pretended to marry Bruce Willis. A thousand people came to our joint wedding at Crystal Palace in Canley Heights. Under the plastic chandeliers, the DJ played 'Time After Time' by Cindy Lauper. Bruce and I intertwined our arms and poured whiskey into each other's mouths while Tammy made out with Brad. A big security guy with skulls tattooed on his neck ambled over. His nametag read 'Fetu'.'
