Hecate

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Articles from Vol. 23, No. 2, October

Becoming-Violet: Desire in the Love Poetry of Mary Fullerton
You say that violets fade upon your breast, I'd rather dearest that mine perished there Quick on your passionate heart than otherwhere. Did some cold vase become their purpled nest They longer there might live to die unblest: Better their fragrance float...
Can We Be Australian? Third World Women in a First World Society
This paper examines the processes through which first-generation ethnic minority women from Third World countries situate themselves within Australian society. A critical element of the settlement process is defining differences and devising strategies...
Coming to Byron
I. We are always coming to Byron Bay, Byron's always east, The Most Eastern Point, Where there are no set suns, another day Upon day wheels by the sea and is joined By the sky in a clap, or a rub, or The Pacific, kissing into the ear Of the coast the...
Crossing Cultures: An Interview with Helena Gulash
As the extended controversy surrounding the publication and success of Marlo Morgan's Mutant Message Down Under in 1994 has made clear, one aspect of the complex relations between the New Age movement and Indigenous cultures involves the production of...
Editorial
There are manifold problems associated with illegal drug use in societies such as Australia, but a lack of direction in relation to effective remedies. The current initiative against drugs, announced by John Howard in early November, does little more...
Jury Service
She's called for Jury Service and reads the fine print. She is exempted if she claims she is a woman. What does it mean, this excuse called woman? She cannot write this even though it is true. She is a woman, divorced, fortyish, two children, a dog,...
Metcard Is Coming
They stand like hungry sentinels ready to claim money, time and the self-respect of humans waiting a minute into the hour 'Watch your newspapers,' the signs say painted on blue straitjackets padlocked over steel-hard cases They are obedient to the premier...
Night Comes
And so. . . . It's come to this. A parting from the day. as evening begins to come. And the sun sends shards of light spearing through trees. Casting dull shadows that stretch long into others. Across the timeless hills in their gentle folds. Across...
Racism in the Never-Never: Disparate Readings of Jeannie Gunn
WE - are just some of the bush-folk of the Never-Never. Distinct in the foreground stand: The Maluka, the Little Missus, the Sanguine Scot, the Head Stockman, the Dandy, the Quiet Stockman, the Fizzer, Mine Host, the Wag, Some of our Guests, a few...
Something Borrowed
This is a chapter in the continuing story of my life. At my mother's request, some names of persons and places have been changed. I was born in Sydney but my surname is Italian in origin. 'Fitzgerald?' Australians jeer. 'Come off the grass. Your name...
The Good Bird Doesn't Shit in Its Own Nest
Twenty six years ago we moved into Gladstone for the first time. He find the job at QAL and QAL provide the house at Barney Point. He was plant operator. He was a shift worker - three different shifts. He was making good money. Because of that shift...
The Plural Gaze: Reflections on Contemporary Feminist Curatorial Practice
At the recent Weimar Republic Exhibition of German expressionist woodcuts at the Queensland Art Gallery(1) what was remarkable was the powerful presence of poetry in so many works that could equally well be called political. These images were meant to...
'The Shock of Body against Body': History and the Politics of Despair in Theories of Difference
Indeed, is it at all surprising that a society founded on the opposition of classes should culminate in brutal contradiction, the shock of body against body, as its final denouement?(1) For contemporary cultural and literary theory, the edge of the...
The Story of Two Paintings
The Stolen Generation In this picture there's a Serpent Lady representing my Aboriginal homeland, a Serpent Lady with a pair of breasts, and instead of having her children in the belly I have painted them in the heart. The Aboriginal people feel this...
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