The powerful and beautiful friendship of Judith Wright and Oodgeroo Noonuccal

Following on from our first post on rebellious Australian poets, we’re going to talk about Judith Wright’s and Oodgeroo Noonuccal’s friendship. Judith Wright was passionate about Aboriginal land rights and their mutual passion for politics, nature, and art saw a deep friendship form. Wright wrote Noonuccal the poem Two Dreamtimes as an expression of what she felt about the situation in Australia. Wright acknowledges her privileged position and the suffering that Noonuccal has experienced in her life from colonisation.

Kathy my sister with the torn heart,

I don’t know how to thank you

for your dreamtime stories of joy and grief

written on paperbark.

…………………………

If we are sisters, it’s in this–

our grief for a lost country,

the place we dreamed in long ago,

poisoned now and crumbling.

Judith Wright, Two Dreamtimes (excerpt), 1973

Monsoon swoon

I prepared my application for the Master of Arts in Writing, Editing and Publishing as snow silently sang down outside my window. I had been working and travelling throughout Japan for almost a year. Even though I had valued every second of my experience — from working on small farms in Hokkaido to a fast paced patisserie in downtown Tokyo — I felt that I needed a stronger focus. I took a deep breath as I submitted my application. I put on my jacket and step outside. The distant sound of music from the chairlifts and people laughing could be heard in the distance. My boots crunch on the icy path that is walled in by meters of snow. I arrive at the tired, Finnish-style, mountainside hotel and greet my co-workers in the gift shop. I call out Irashaimase as customers enter in their yukatas or snow gear. Snow quickly melts off snow jackets and leave small pools of water on the floor. My application rests in the back of my mind as I get to work.

The moment of realisation that I wanted and perhaps needed to do the WEP program was when a Japanese yoga teacher in Tokyo asked me to translate a textbook. I realised that I could do this, but it would be difficult, as I didn’t have the knowledge or skills. When I received my acceptance it felt as if my direction had become clear and I booked my flight back to Australia.

I arrived back home and attempted to prepare myself for what was to come. I was about to do a Master’s in an area that I had an affinity for, but talent? Skill? My first day of class in Professional Communication soon loomed. I walked across the Green Bridge and tried to breathe deeply. The Brisbane River snaked lazily below. Doubts were streaming through my head when suddenly a monsoonal rain broke down around me. I was still undercover, but not for much longer. Assessing the sky and my feet, I quickly took off my shoes and tied the laces through the straps of my bag. I took a deep breath, and ran off into the campus. I jumped over puddles and turned corners with mud squelching between my toes. It felt liberating to be moving so freely about the university in what seemed like my own world; a wall of water muted everything and everyone. I arrived at the lecture room with five minutes to spare. I peered in through the open door and could see Roslyn Petelin talking to a student. I fumbled with the laces on my shoes but I had, in the excitement, over-knotted them. I tried to slip through into the room, hoping that no one would notice my muddy feet and guessed that we had to greet Ros at the door. So I stood there, dripping like a drowned marsupial, when Ros turned to me and asked ‘Am I supposed to know you?’ She had, in fact, just been chatting to someone she knew and was not greeting every student that walked through the door. I had been in Japan for far too long[1]. I fumbled through a surprised ‘no’ and slinked up to the back of the class. Some students were laughing, but I felt not ill naturedly. I sat there trying to compose myself and sort out my shoes while I laughed quietly at myself. I had made it, I was there, and in my own way I was going to get through this.

 

[1] As far as the author is aware it is not a custom in Japan to greet your students as they enter the door either.

Not another bush ballad: 5 rebel Australian poets you should know

It’s no secret that Australians love a good bush ballad. We know Waltzing Matilda and The Man from Snowy River as iconic representations of the national spirit. But there’s even more to us than that. We break new ground, say what we think, and stick up for the underdog. These five poets show us that representation is for all Australians, and they have used their voices to great effect.

1. Dorothy Porter

Mickey’s ghost walks
in this tropical rain
she swings in the fig trees
her voice
glistens green and wet
she’s growing dark
she’s wearing a monkey’s mask.

Dorothy Porter, The Monkey’s Mask, 1994

Dorothy Porter was born in Sydney in 1954. She was a notable figure for the LGBT community—known for her exciting and unique contribution to Australian poetry. The Monkey’s Mask is Porter’s multiple-award-winning verse novel. It combines an erotic lesbian detective story with poetry, following a detective who falls in love with a suspect in her case. In 2000, it was turned into a thriller film directed by Samantha Lang. Porter wrote other dark crime verse but also focused on themes such as love, cancer, and literary criticism. She lived with partner and fellow writer Andrea Goldsmith, and died in 2008 from breast cancer.

2. Oodgeroo Noonuccal

Gumtree in the city street,
Hard bitumen around your feet,
Rather you should be
In the cool world of leafy forest halls
And wild bird calls
Here you seems to me
Like that poor cart-horse
Castrated, broken, a thing wronged,
Strapped and buckled, its hell prolonged,
Whose hung head and listless mien express
Its hopelessness.
Municipal gum, it is dolorous
To see you thus
Set in your black grass of bitumen–
O fellow citizen,
What have they done to us?

Oodgeroo Noonuccal, Municipal Gum (excerpt), 1960

Oodgeroo of the Noonuccal (formally known as Kath Walker) was an Aboriginal poet and activist, born in 1920. The Noonuccal people were the traditional inhabitants of North Stradbroke Island. Oodgeroo’s poetry is known for her straightforward language and politically charged content. She was heavily involved in Aboriginal rights, both politically and in her poetry, which was only matched by her passion for education. Municipal Gum is a short, hard-hitting poem.

3. Christopher Barnett 

when they came
for furkan
waves wept
for such a sailor
does not come
often enough
this night
i imagine
four holes
in furkan’s head
& weep
not only
for him
& the other
heroes the other
naturally the other
is multiple
& resistant the other
always the other

Christopher Barnett, when they came/ for you elegies/ of resistance (excerpt), 2013

Christopher Barnett is a poet and playwright who was active in the Adelaide and Melbourne poetry scenes, before leaving Australia for France. His approach to both poetry and politics is revolutionary. Barnett initially posted fragments of his epic poem when they came/ for you elegies/ of resistance on his facebook page, before publishing the full text as a book. It deals with the death of Furkan Dogan, a Turkish American man killed in the Gaza flotilla raid. Barnett’s work is both confronting and without closure, and still a compelling read.

4. Ouyang Yu

in a night without time
when I mourn over the loss of
an ancient Chinese poem
a thousand years ago about now
but moon over melbourne
that knows nothing of that
a young one just 200 seconds old
with a man-made light that is not only cold
you mooch over melbourne
in an air-conditioned mood
how is it you look so bloody australian
so i-wouldn’t-care-less tonight?

Ouyang Yu, Moon Over Melbourne (excerpt), 1995

Ouyang Yu was born in China in 1955. He studied English, American, and Australian literature in China before moving to Australia in 1991, where he completed a Ph. D. examining the representation of the Chinese in Australian literature. But Yu is not just a scholar. He has received awards for his work as an editor and translator and is known widely for his creative writing. His poetry addresses themes of multiculturalism and Australian cultural identities. Moon Over Melbourne is a perfect example of his unapologetic confrontation with Australian culture.

5. Lionel Fogarty

Remember the hell
that flung like bells.
It is said, mornings will be broken
and hells will be ahead.
We intended to harm
but in turn
cut off our arms,
concerned with our truth
they say they are.
Lionel Fogarty, For Brother: D.B.W. (excerpt), 1980

Lionel Fogarty was born in 1958 in Queensland. He moved to Brisbane when he was 16 and became involved in the Aboriginal rights movement. He took on issues such as healthcare, legal services, and land rights, as well as Aboriginal deaths in custody. His brother, Daniel, died in police custody in 1993. Fogarty’s work is often political, and he makes unapologetic use of Aboriginal English. His work has been influential in both Aboriginal and white Australian poetic discourse. For Brother: D.B.W is an example of his distinctive and post-surreal, politically-charged style.