Story, poetry and music: ‘Rivers Flow – Reflections on the Songs of Archie Roach and Ruby Hunter’.
Curated by award-winning Noongar writer Kim Scott, this anthology from First Nations writers is a beautiful tribute to the talent, heart and inspiration of two incredible music makers and storyteller, Archie Roach and Ruby Hunter.
Anyone who was lucky enough to see either or both perform would surely remember the first time. For me, it was at a very early Woodford Folk Festival in the mid 1990s. I had two CDs of Archie’s then, Charcoal Lane and Jamu Dreaming, and knew all the songs intimately. Perched on top of a grassy hill to the side of a packed festival marquee (no chance of a seat inside), all I could see was the side of the stage and the performer’s legs. Once Archie began singing, none of that mattered. His beautiful, strong voice reached me like a warm caress, soothing and uplifting at the same time.
I saw this wonderful man perform many times over subsequent years: alone with his guitar, or with a band, or with Ruby, another magic-maker with words and song. They gave shows at festivals, in small venues and at the Sydney Opera House theatre. Every single time I would come away with tears in my eyes and hope in my heart. Their strength, dignity and compassion were reflected in each song they wrote and sang.
They were Australian cultural treasures and their legacy lives on. This book is a small yet meaningful part of that. A short, heartfelt foreward by Amos Roach, Archie’s son, sets the scene, along with a reflective introduction by Kim Scott, who writes:
So I made a playlist, and revisiting songs of Archie Roach and Ruby Hunter opened me right up. Remembering where I’d heard a song, or tried to sing it. Who I was with, when, where. And then there is the very quality of the songs themselves, their big spirit.
How I wish I could sing like that, write like that.
Rivers Run p9Inside are short pieces by First Nations writers, some well known to me, others new. They each chose a song and wrote about it: a short story inspired by the feel of a song; a poem; a memory. The love and respect felt by other creatives for the duo in question shine through every single piece. In the words of Kokomini writer Graham Akhurst in his piece ‘Paradise’ inspired by the song From Paradise:
Hope is in the truths
and blood that binds us
Archie sang truths;
we sing alongArchie’s most famous song is arguably Took the Children Away, a searingly honest portrayal of the horrors of government policies and actions that resulted in the Stolen Generations. It is hard song to hear, to sing, to think about; yet hopeful. This was the genius of both Archie and Ruby: to explore difficult truths with compassion and love.
Here is Archie singing this song from decades ago; there is a beautiful suprise towards the end. Please note: the video contains images of people who have died.
It was a sad loss for this country and for Australian music when first Ruby, then Archie, passed away. I will remember them both with enormous admiration and gratitude. Their songs will remain with me always.Rivers Flow was published by Fremantle Press in 2025.
Big thank you to Blue Mountains Library for having this in its First Nations collection, which is where I came across it.A different kind of odyssey: ‘Blood’ by Tony Birch
Tony Birch is a multi-award winning First Nations author, poet and artist. Blood was his debut novel, first published in 2011, and shortlisted for the 2012 Miles Franklin Literary Prize. I read the newer edition, re-published in 2023 as part of UQP’s First Nations Classic series. This volume has a thoughtful introduction by Larissa Behrendt, another Australian author whose work I admire.
Blood is part coming-of-age story, part ‘road trip’ novel, if a journey undertaken mostly on foot can be considered a road trip.
It’s told from the perspective of thirteen-year-old Jesse, who together with his eight-year-old sister Rachel, must endure the stresses that come with the haphazard parenting of their mother, a deeply flawed and damaged alcoholic who makes a series of disastrous relationship and life choices. The problem for the children is that Gwen is damaging as well as damaged.
Their lives together make for an almost complete train wreck of an existence, with some moments of respite provided by a couple of well-meaning characters: Jon (an ex-prisoner who, during his time with the family makes an effort to provide some care and attention for the kids) and Pop (their grandfather, who has fought his own demons but now seeks some redemption by being a better grandfather than he was a father).
Jesse has made a promise – a blood promise – to his sister, to always take care of her. While there are moments where he dreams of escaping on his own to make his own, better, life away from their mother, deep down he knows that the bond between him and Rachel cannot ever be broken.
When the pair end up facing real danger as a result of their mother’s terrible choices, their ‘road trip’ begins, as they set off on foot to find their grandfather again. There are many hazards along the way and the two kids have to rely on their wits, courage and fortitude to survive.
The characters are brilliantly drawn, the children especially so, but all of the people with whom they come in contact feel realistic, people we might encounter should we be in similar circumstances. Gwen is a difficult figure to relate to or feel warmly towards, as we witness the disruptive effects of her chaotic mind and emotions on her youngsters. Yet I’m sure many readers will have known someone like Gwen.
Larissa Behrendt points out in her introduction that one of the great strengths of Tony Birch’s writing is the way he manages to portray First Nations characters without any of the stereotypes so often seen in such stories. Jesse and Rachel have Aboriginal heritage but it is referred to briefly, almost downplayed – yet there is an undercurrent of strength that the children draw on unconsciously that is part of their shared heritage. The children’s development as the novel progresses is beautifully portrayed – Rachel, especially, turns up quite a surprise at the story’s end.
At its heart, Blood is about kinship and the bonds – both constructive and destructive – that exist even in the most difficult of family circumstances. It’s the kind of book that, were it a movie, you might watch through parted fingers, especially the harder bits, but I felt drawn to the story and its people and was propelled through the pages. I really cared what happened to those two kids on their odyssey through the Australian countryside and through life.
I was fortunate to attend a Sydney Writers Festival ‘Homegrown’ event at the State Library in Sydney recently, where Tony Birch was interviewed by podcasters Sophie Gee and Jonty Claypole from the podcast ‘The Secret Life of Books’. (If you love hearing about the context in which classic books and poems were written, the history of their creation and the writers’ lives, this is a wonderful podcast to subscribe to.) The discussion was engrossing and wide ranging and confirmed my impression that Blood should indeed be regarded as a modern Australian classic.
Blood, First Nations Classics Edition, was published by UQP in 2023.
At the State Library of NSW ‘Homegrown’ event on 19th Sept 2026. Photo by author. 
A beautiful gift: ‘Words to Sing the World Alive’ Edited by Jasmin McGaughey & the Poet’s Voice
What do ‘first language’ or ‘mother tongue’ mean to you? The language you were born into? The first words you learnt? The language you think in, dream in: the way you see your world?
For most people, they are all of those things, and more.
Words to Sing the World Alive is a celebration of language: specifically, some of the many hundreds of First Languages that existed in Australia before European colonisation.
On their website, the publishers University of Queensland Press describe it this way:
Words to Sing the World Aliveย celebrates First Nations languages from across the continent. Forty First Nation writers and thinkers, journalists and lawyers, artists and astronomers come together to reveal their favourite and significant words. Words that evoke the power of childhood and the wonder of Country; that explore the essence of mother, of fire, of time. Words that are imbued with family and belonging, and that surprise with their connections.
UQP websitePerhaps unsurprisingly it is also a lyrical collection of great beauty and depth. Each of the short contributions offers a gem, something to consider deeply, something to learn by. Each language reflects the culture and world view of its speakers. Language can help us to deep dive into ways of seeing the big questions of life, the meaning of it, what comes before and what comes after.
Here is one of my favourite quotes from the book (and believe me, it was hard to narrow it down as there are many beautiful words, phrases, sentences and paragraphs in this slim volume):
But it’s on the tongue where this language [Wiradjuri] sings the world alive. Any one word can feel like a story, a narrative in small syllables. An arrangement of breath where my body and spirit inhabit. The muscles on my face are clunky, learning the shapes carved by rivers, known by sky. I was raised in English, and so I am finding my way back to myself through this sun-warmed language. Journeys through time, forward and back, held by language, held by Country.
Jazz Money, in Words to Sing the World Alive, p10This book reflects the language revitalisation projects taking place around the country, where endangered languages are being revived, new life breathed into words and concepts that might otherwise fade forever.
Such endeavours are so important, to reclaim what has been lost from over two hundred years of loss, forced removals from Country, separation of people from family, culture, language.
My recommendation is to take this book slowly, dipping into one or two contributions at a time. You can better savour the words offered and their stories better that way. And if you can, do so with the Australian Institute of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies Map of Indigenous Australia handy (online version available through their website here.) This will help with the geographic context of each of the languages being discussed.
As a non-indigenous Australian who loves words, I also consider the book to be yet another generous gift of great beauty from First Australians to the wider Australian community, if we care to receive it.
Words to Sing the World Alive was published by University of Queensland Press in 2024.
More Australian favourites: three new picture books
Jackie French, one of my favourite authors of both adult’s and children’s books, has a new release in a series that focuses on animals and the way environmental events like fire, flood and drought affect them. You can read my reviews of the first two, The Fire Wombat, and The Turtle and the Flood.
In book three, we meet Joseph, a young kangaroo in a mob trying to survive drought. The effects of the challenging environment and deprivation are described vividly: the animals’ thin tails, their listlessness. Joseph senses water from afar and he decides to go in search of it. It’s a risk, but he knows that he and his mob won’t survive long without life-saving water and fresh grass.
None of his mob follow, so he must journey a long way on his own, under a hard, hot sky and plains of dust and rock. All of the animals and birds on his way call out for water as he passes through their country. His adventures include one drawn from the author’s own experience – a collision between a kangaroo and her (thankfully stopped) car. The kangaroo was unhurt but the incident began a long connection between her and the animal, which stayed around her property long afterwards.
In the story, it eventually rains and the land around Joseph is transformed with running creeks and lush new grass. He is challenged, but unharmed, by the Big Roo of a mob of kangaroos in the new land he has travelled to, and accepted as one of their own. This is now his home.
This simple story encapsulates the struggle of Australia’s animals and birds when faced with drought, and the survival strategies they use. But I think it’s also about the human response to danger and disaster, and the search for a better life – perhaps a plea for understanding the situations of the increasing number of ‘environmental refugees’ in the world, escaping from intolerable conditions brought about by the climate crisis.
Ms French is well known for her advocacy for animals and environmental protection, and her NSW property is a haven for wildlife. As she remarks in her short Author’s Note: A wild animal can be a friend, even if you never share a word.
The illustrations by Danny Snell reflect the colours of a parched Australian landscape: browns, olives, ochre; but also the welcome cool blue of a billabong when rain does come.
The Drought Kangaroo is published by Angus & Robertson, an imprint of HarperCollins Children’s Books, in October 2025.
Ash Barty, tennis star turned inspiration for children’s books, offers a celebration of the joys of a beachside camping holiday with family and friends, in My Dream Holiday, written with Jasmin McGaughey and illustrated by Jade Goodwin.
Every sizzling summer, my family travels to Minjerribah (North Stradbroke Island) for our dream holiday. We are excited to meet our cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents there.
We will spend days doing all of our favourite things while exploring the beach, bush and creeks.I wonder if fewer children nowadays experience the fun of a camping holiday? Any kids who’ve not had this experience will no doubt want to after reading this book, filled as it is with tents, a campfire, beach games, snorkelling, footy and fishing. And at night, telling scary stories and then sleeping curled up tight in a tent with your pet.
It’s a bright, colourful book that oozes the charms of familiar summer holidays in a familiar place, surrounded by the people you love.
My Dream Holiday was published by HarperCollins Children’s Books in September 2025.
My Story, Our Country: A First Nations Family History is a follow up to Learning Country: A First Nations Journey Around Australia’s Traditional Place Names, by Gudanji/Wakaja artist and storyteller Ryhia Dank. Here, the author explores her own family stories and experiences, reflecting on culture, language, traditional practices. Of course it also encompasses some historical as well as contemporary perspectives.
The narrative includes both celebratory and destructive realities: the loss of traditional land management practices (now being revived) and healthy traditional foods; modern adaptations of cultural practices (from body scarring to tattooing, for example); the hurt and sadness caused by the government policy of removal of indigenous children from their families; the theft of artefacts by explorers and settlers and the long campaigns to have them returned.
The strong theme throughout is
We may look and sound different to our ancestors, but we are the same too. We are still strong, still here and still Aboriginal.
The artwork is beautiful: traditional motifs and design features tell the story of the book in a visual language but the pictures also incorporate text and contemporary images to make a fascinating meld.
One other point I will make about this book is that, despite being in picture book format, it is not really a book for very young readers. The language and concepts are better suited to older children, middle-grade ages for example.
It is a beautiful way to introduce, or reinforce, important ideas and perspectives about Australia, its past and present, and hope for our collective future.
My Story, Our Country is published by Harper By Design in October 2025.
My thanks to the publishers for review copies of these new books. Look out for them in your local library or bookstore.
Contested stories: ‘Warra Warra Wai’ by Darren Rix & Craig Cormick
If, like me, you grew up with stories of ‘Captain Cook’ and his heroic voyages around the world, ‘discovering’ ‘claiming’ and ‘naming’ great swathes of the Pacific region including the continent now known as Australia, Warra Warra Wai will be an eye-opening read.
With its subtitle – one of the best I have ever seen – (How Indigenous Australians discovered Captain Cook and what they tell about the coming of the Ghost People) the authors make clear that this book, while tracing Cook’s voyage up the entire east coast of Australia, will be focused on the stories from the shore: what has been remembered, handed down, and/or written about from the perspectives of the First Peoples encountered by those on board the Endeavour.
Flipping the usual script allows for a rich exploration of those people, their Countries, languages, lifestyles, law and lore. What did they make of the strange ship and its passengers? What beliefs, customs and protocols dictated the ways in which these newcomers were met by the people on the shore? And what followed this first contact – the years and decades in which more white people arrived and the consequences for the land and its First Peoples.
The authors (Gunditjmara-GunaiKurnai radio broadcaster and culture sites officer Darren Rix, and author and science communicator Craig Cormick) set out with a seemingly simple goal: visit all of the places on the east coast renamed by James Cook, put back the original names, and ask the First Nations people there what stories they wanted to share. As simple as that. Just ask them. (p1)
Simple, and profound.
The result is a stunning ‘travel memoir’ of sorts, meeting people who act as guides to their Country, their Creation stories and cultural practices, the law that has guided their people for thousands of years. They also describe their histories since European contact, most of which is, unsurprisingly, grim: disease; violence; theft; rape; forced removal of family; forced removal from traditional homelands; forced discontinuation of traditional lifestyles, religious practices, language; thinly disguised slavery; to name the more obvious ones.
There are commonalities, apart from the dreadful violence and mistreatment. For example, all the stories of the first sightings of the English ship include the fact that each of the groups along that shoreline knew about the strange arrival ahead of time, through smoke signals and other communication from the people further south.
There are multiple interpretations of events and behaviours: those recorded in Cook’s journal, the ship’s logs, or the journals of the two other men on board who write about events as they occured, and those from oral histories of the First People involved. As the authors point out,
So what does it all mean? Well, it probably means that because most people cherrypick the information that agrees with their biases and opinions, different readers will conclude that the arguments support their own point of view on the matter.
Warra Warra Wai p299
There are many ‘what if?’ or sliding door moments, where if one or more of the people involved had chosen a different behaviour, or understood a little more about what they were seeing/hearing, or given events a slightly different interpretation, history could have played out rather differently. I find those moments rather sad to contemplate: missed opportunities, I suppose.
There are stories of resilience, strength, resistance. Of slowly reclaiming language and culture. Of acts of kindness and reconciliation. Of truth-telling and of people willing to listen.
The use of the word ‘renaming’ for Cook’s bestowing English names on the places he sailed past reinforces the fact that everywhere he looked was already know, beloved, sometimes sacred Country to its First Peoples. It was not empty land waiting to be discovered and claimed by white people.
Since the High Court ruling on the Mabo case, the terra nullius fallacy is no longer widely held, but so many others remain. This book is an accessible and enlightening way to learn more about Australian history – from both sides of the shore – and reconsider some of the more contested stories of our national beginning.
As is often the case, the First People interviewed for this book demonstrate generosity of spirit and a desire to reach out across the cultural divide. When asked what he most wanted Australians to know, one interviewee, Phil Rist (a Nywaigi man living in Cardwell, across from Munamudanamy or Hinchinbrook Island) had a reply that sweeps aside all the complexity of the past:
It’s not about race, it’s about need. If we agree that this is the oldest living continuing culture in the world, so how do we protect that?
Warra Warra Wai p229
If you are going to be travelling through any parts of the eastern coastal country of Australia, I would suggest taking this book with you. It will give you insights, stories and understandings that most travel guides cannot provide.
Warra Warra Wai was published by Scribner in 2024.
What stories tell us: ‘Finding Eliza’ by Larissa Behrendt
Euahleyai / Gamillaroi author, filmmaker, lawyer and academic, Larissa Behrendt writes both non-fiction and fiction which illuminate aspects of Australia’s history from an indigenous perspective. Her writing is always thought-provoking and perceptive, and Finding Eliza is no exception.
The book takes as its starting point the power of stories to teach, explain, and create beliefs and attitudes. She takes the well-known historical event of the 1836 shipwreck of the Sterling Castle on an island off Australia’s east coast. The only woman among a handful of survivors, Eliza was kept alive by the Butchulla people of the island called K’gari (later named by the English after the ship’s captain – and Eliza’s husband – Fraser Island). She spent several weeks there, separated from other white people, after witnessing -according to her account – her husband’s death after being speared by a Butchulla man.
This story has been told and retold many times since then, including by Eliza herself after her rescue and return to England. There have been so many versions that it is difficult to know what parts are based on real events and what has been changed, embroidered or created.
The author’s focus, however, is how the stories that grew up around Eliza’s experiences, illustrate the themes and motivations of those telling them. There are elements needed for a story to work, both for those telling and hearing the story. Eliza had to be ‘good’ and the Aboriginal people ‘bad.’ She must conform to the Victorian-era stereotype of the virtuous, middle-class, loyal wife. It was commonly believed by Europeans at the time that the Australian ‘natives’ were savage, unpredictable, and prone to cannabalism – therefore, to be feared and seen as inferior.
So it is not surprising that Eliza and the Butchulla were represented accordingly in the tales that grew up around her experiences.
The Butchulla people had their own world view and beliefs. They were not just a silent backdrop to the adventures of a white woman, nor were they an undifferentiated source of threat. But in order to provide the tension necessary in Eliza’s story, they had to be portrayed in this way. The truth is that without their assistance and care, Eliza would have most likely perished on the island before she could be rescued.
…{Eliza’s} survival of the shipwreck is not the climax of this story; it is just the beginning. The heart of her story unfolds when she makes contact with the Aboriginal people who populate this land, and it is her alleged captivity by these ‘brutal’ and ‘cannabalistic savages’ and her eventual rescue that gives her tale its compelling drama.
Finding Eliza, ebook version, location 7%
The author takes this a starting point, to then explore a range of aspects of colonialism in Australia.
These include: the ‘Enlightenment’ ideals of the nineteenth century viewed alongside the dispossession and savagery of occupation and colonisation; black / white relations including sexual relations, sexual slavery and prostitution; the silence about the contribution of Aboriginal women to the colonial economy; the control over Aboriginal lives wielded by the colonists; why the trope of cannabilism held such power among whites; cultural appropriation, and how positive stereotypes can be as damaging as negative ones.
As Ms Behrendt concludes:
In… stories, we learn much more about the coloniser than we ever learn about the colonised, but by looking at them through different lenses and different perspectives we begin to appreciate the complexities and nuances of our own history.
FInding Eliza loc 89%
This is a book that made me think, review my own preconceptions about the past and the stories I grew up with. It is as relevant today as when it was first published by University of Qld Press, in 2016.
Connections: ‘The belburd’ by Nardi Simpson
The new novel by award-winning Yuwaalaraay singer and writer Nardi Simpson is tricky to describe. It is unlike any book I have read.
There are two narratives within the book, seemingly disparate but actually closely connected. There is the story of Ginny, a young poet trying to make sense of her world and her place in it. She writes poems and ‘plants’ them around her environment, literally planting them with some soil and a little water as she moves around her neighbourhood.
Then there is the being whose experience as a birth spirit is told in first person. ‘Sprite’ is rolling around in Eel Mother’s belly, meeting other spirits who are waiting to be born, and those who did not make it or do not survive.
The two narratives connect when we realise that Sprite and the other birth spirits see all. From this, we can perhaps understand that everything and everyone are connected, from times past into the future.
It is a fascinating way to introduce readers to a view of the world and the spirit that is very different from mainstream Western thought and traditions.
For this reason, it is a book to come to with an open heart and an open mind, and let the ideas and language wash over you, absorbing their meaning without trying to.
The belburd is published by Hachette in October 2024.
My thanks to the publishers and to NetGalley for an early copy to review.
‘Women & Children’ by Tony Birch
Australian First nations author Tony Birch’s 2023 novel Women & Children was shortlisted for the 2024 Australian Book Industry Awards – Literary Fiction Book of the Year.
Set in the mid 1960’s it concerns a young boy, Joe Cluny, whose main preoccupation is his tendency to court trouble with the nuns at his Catholic school. He lives in a working class suburb with his single mum and older sister. They are a tight-knit family with the usual money problems and squabbles of families in his neighbourhood.
When his mum’s sister Oona appears at their door, Joe’s world view has to adjust to a new reality – that of violence perpetrated on women by the men in their lives, and the way doors slam when they seek help.
Joe comes to understand that there are many types of men, including Oona’s violent boyfriend and his own, mostly absent, father. There is the priest who won’t help Oona. But there is also his grandfather Charlie, and Charlie’s friend Ranji, both of whom offer a kind of companionable time-out from the troubles and mysteries of the adult world.
As Joe tries to understand the complexities of his society and the way that secrets can damage, he has to leave part of his childhood behind.
This reads like a very personal sort of novel, which the author acknowledges in his note at the end:
Women & Children is a work of fiction. It is not the story of my own family, but a story motivated by our family’s refusal to accept silence as an option in our lives.
Women & Children loc 208 of 210 (eBook)One of the novel’s strengths is its spare use of language and the way it conjures young Joe’s world, largely seen through his eyes.
Another is the bond and strength of the female characters: Joe’s mum Marion, Oona, and his sister Ruby, all demonstrate a particular quality of spirit, hints that they will survive, perhaps even thrive, despite the obstacles lined up against them.
Children who have the kinds of troubling experiences that Joe has had, need allies. Charlie and Ranji are good examples of how adults can provide alternative experiences so crucial for kids to understand that violence does not have to be part of relationships.
This novel tells a simple story that is both very old and completely current. I wish it didn’t feel so timely, but it deals with a theme that, sadly, seems to be ever present. Uncovering the silences and secrets around violence and what it does to people is an essential step to stopping it.
Women & Children was published by UQP in 2023.
Stories and silences: ‘After Story’ by Larissa Behrendt
Amongst loss, you need to hold onto what you still have.’
After Story p260What do Australian First Nation’s cultural stories and history have to do with the writings and times of Dickens, Shakespeare, Woolfe, Keats or Austen? The surprising answers to this question are to be found in the pages of After Story, by First Nations lawyer, academic, author, speaker and film-maker Larissa Behrendt.
A tragic loss opens the story, one that forever scars Della and her family. All the other events of the novel hang off that one devastating event and its consequences.
Years later, Della accompanies her now adult daughter Jasmine on a literary tour of England, taking in the places where many of the ‘greats’ of British literature were born, or lived, or worked.
Jasmine sees books as her escape from the claustrophobia, racism and limited opportunities of the small town in which she grew up. She has read widely, graduated from university, and now works in a legal career. She invites Della on the tour with her as a way of bridging the gap that has arisen between them over the years. Alternating viewpoints allow us to experience both women’s perspectives on the tour. Della’s viewpoint is less sophisticated than her daughter’s, especially as she knows little about the writers and their works, but no less heartfelt or insightful for that.
At every significant place visited, the characters in the group chat, argue and reflect on the particular writer, their historical context and achievements. The author has skillfully linked all of these with commentary and reflections on Aboriginal experiences. An example: when told of the plague that struck England during Shakespeare’s time, followed by London’s Great Fire in 1666, Della relates these catastrophic events to the smallpox outbreak and land dispossession that decimated First Nations communities in the earliest years of English settlement:
I thought about what it must have been like for those Aboriginal people who watched the world around them change hard and fast when the colony was set up, who had to watch the destruction of the life they knew.
After Story p43Della’s deceased Aunty Eileen is an important, if unseen, character. It is through Della’s and Jasmine’s remembered conversations with her, that key features of Aboriginal culture, history and beliefs are shared and further linked to European lives and histories. Gazing at a copy of the Magna Carta in the British Library, Jasmine reflects that:
If Dickens reminded us that the system is not fair, here was the hope, the ancient promise, that it might be. Aunty Elaine’s generation had advocated for changes that made opportunities in my life different from those for Mum and Dad. It’s not just the words on the page but the people who push the ideas at the heart of them who really alter the world.
After Story p82The characters are all three dimensional and fresh, their struggles real, and at times there are uncomfortable moments, as the author invites us to consider our own culture’s role in the theft, forgetting or dismissal of cultures other than our own. But for anyone who loves literature and/or stories and their long histories, this is a book to relish, made all the more special by the weaving together of old and contemporary, indigenous and non-indigenous traditions, tragedy and loss with hope and love.
After Story was published by Queensland University Press in 2021.
