Reviews: What I read this summer

I love summer. I love the (mostly) warm weather with blue-sky days. I love that I get to go on holidays. I love that the days are longer. And I love that I get to wear summer dresses. But mostly I love the fact that I get more time to do one of my favourite things in the whole entire world. Which, you probably won't be surprised to know, is reading lots.

This summer I read everything from confirmed and unconfirmed autobiographies, to books about relationships, education and Australian politics. So here are my thoughts on the books I read over summer. What did you read?

Yes Please, by Amy Poehler

There's no other way for me to start this other than to say that Amy Poehler is a complete babe. She's just so sassy and so self-assured, yet she also gives you the impression that she wears her heart on her sleeve. Who wouldn't warm to that sort of person?

In Yes Please, Poehler discusses how she got to where she is in her career today (she worked really hard); talks about being a single mother (it can be really hard); and comments lots on the process of writing a memoir (it's really hard). Yet even though she has worked very hard, what becomes evident is that she does not shy away from challenges - in fact, she embraces them.

Unlike with other memoirs, it's sometimes hard to tell whether Poehler is being truthful or tongue-in-cheek. Which I kind of like, because it keeps you guessing about who the 'real' Amy Poehler is. However the flipside of this is that you end up feeling like you might not actually know Poehler any better after reading her memoir; as if everything in the book is calculated to present a certain image of herself. Which no doubt all memoirs are in some way - it's just that it was a bit more obvious for me in this one than others have been. 

Nevertheless Poehler's can-do, let's-say-yes-and-get-down-and-dirty approach to everything is so inspiring that it makes you want to fist-pump the air and say, 'Yeah, I can do whatever I set my mind to too!' after reading it.

My favourite quotes? 

'Nobody looks stupid when they are having fun.'

'Change is inevitable, get used to it, so just ride the wave.'  

'It takes years as a woman to unlearn what you have been taught to be sorry for. It takes years to find your voice and seize your real estate.'

Poehler has certainly seized her real estate and her memoir is clear evidence of this, despite me being hungry for more.


Class Act, by Maxine McKew

Class Act is an insightful look at how some of Australia's leading schools have achieved being the best schools our country can offer our students. It's a celebration of their achievements, focusing on a handful of schools from all over the country and their leaders who have taken a stand to create positive change.

As someone who is studying teaching it was a really engaging read, exploring many key ideas discussed in my course, such as: how well are we preparing students to cope in a world that increasingly requires them to adapt and use their initiative; the importance of lifting the bar of what's expected and accepted of students at school; and the importance of giving all students access to a rich variety of subjects and resources - not just those who can afford it.

It's always refreshing to see how some of these concepts, which are usually discussed in theory, have been successfully implemented by key change-makers at the schools included in Class Act. What's even more refreshing to read is how many of these schools have beaten the odds in some way to achieve more than what the community thought they and their students were capable of.

My favourite quote?

'If we don't do everything we can to develop the full potential of these children, then the loss to our society it criminal' - interview with John Farrell, Principal of Our Lady of Mount Carmel Primary School, Sydney, who has embraced high expectations for all of his students, many of who are Indigenous.

Us, by David Nicholls

This is the story of Douglas and Connie, a couple who have been married for twenty-odd years. Their only son, Albie, is about to go to college, and Connie has come to the realisation that she no longer wants to be married to Douglas. This comes as a shock to Douglas, though as the narrative unfolds it becomes more and more evident that there were signs of cracks in their relationship for some time.

Nevertheless Douglas and Connie decide to go on one last trip to Europe together with Albie, who is unsurprisingly reluctant to be dragged along with his clearly unhappy parents. And so the narrative largely focuses on this family's trip in Europe and David's misguided attempts to keep his family together. It also flashes back to when Douglas and Connie first met and what initially drew them together, which I particularly enjoyed reading (I'm a big fan of flashbacks!).

Though all of this might sound cliched and dull (which is what I would have thought had I not seen Nicholls authored it), it's a touching account of a marriage on the decline and what happens when you grow apart from the person you fell in love with and married. So often relationship stories end with the protagonist securing his/her true love, where you're simply left to assume that they'll live happily ever after. Us offers a different narrative.

At times wickedly funny, at others dispiritingly unsettling, Nicholls has created a memorable story with vivid characters that you'll both love and want to strangle.

My Story, by Julia Gillard 

I was really looking forward to this one. Ever since Gillard was horribly mistreated as Prime Minister, I've wanted to know more about this woman who put up with so much disrespect yet didn't let it stop her from achieving so much in her short term as PM. My Story is a thorough account of these achievements, detailing the reasons for many of the policies Gillard's government introduced. It's unfortunate that politicians don't get more of an opportunity to explain their positions while in office, and Gillard's book certainly highlights how petty and embarrassing the reporting of politics is in Australia given how many important changes were actually happening throughout her leadership.

It's unsurprising that Gillard's book also touches on her professional relationship with Kevin Rudd and it's eventual demise, though she does so tactfully and respectfully. She's also happy to admit her flaws, particularly the lack of effectively communicating the Labor leadership change and carbon price to the Australian people. 

Gillard also delves into her mistreatment as Australia's first female Prime Minister. This was the part of the book I was most interested in, as it was Gillard's mistreatment as Prime Minister which initially re-ignited my interest in feminism. While Gillard doesn't convey that she is bitter about what happened, she rightly still questions why more people, particularly men of influence outside of politics, didn't stand up for her and call out more people on their sexism to send the public a message that such disgusting behaviours would not be tolerated. And when she documents just how highly she was scrutinised as a woman Prime Minister - everything from what she wore to her relationship with her partner (subjects that are irrelevant for male politicians) - it's truly alarming that this was happening only a year and a bit ago.

While at times Gillard does let her guard down (for example providing humorous anecdotes about her partner Tim), for the most part her book felt quite reserved and lacked a sense of getting to know Gillard better personally, which is what I was (perhaps erroneously) expecting. But I've not read another politician's biography before so perhaps this is the norm? Or perhaps that was the intention? 

The following line, which is the last one from Gillard's memoir, sums up the book perfectly:

'I hope [this book has]...helped you see not only the world I lived in as prime minster but the vision of our nation I was working towards. Stronger and fairer.' 

My Story certainly had this outcome for me, despite my disappointments with the book. But it is Gillard's story after all, a woman who has had her fair share of being told how she should behave and communicate.

Go Ask Alice, Anonymous

This was a book a friend recommended I read. In fact, she leant me her copy, which had previously been her mother's, which made it an extra special reading experience. It's so fun reading books that are owned by others and thinking about what other adventures and walks of life they've been on, especially when the books themselves are as influential as Go Ask Alice is.

Published in 1971, Go Ask Alice is the story of an anonymous protagonist who inadvertently becomes involved with and subsequently addicted to drugs. The origins and authenticity of this book are still unclear, which adds to its mystery and allure.

It's a story about teenage angst, about the hopelessness of feeling like you don't quite belong anywhere, and about the need to properly talk about and support those who are showing signs that they are slipping away from us. It's a book that will tug at your heartstrings and make you question just how far we as a society have really come in supporting those who need our help the most. All of these themes make Go Ask Alice such a timeless and powerful read.

Review: Rudd, Gillard and Beyond, by Troy Bramston

I'll be the first to admit that this was a strange choice of book for me. But recently I've become quite interested in the Labor Party; a sentence I never thought I would utter due to my previous lack of interest in politics. In recent years that interest has been sparked, so here I am now writing this review.

Bramston's book is a short novella focusing on the last few months of the Labor Party prior to its 2013 election loss. As well as analysing the reasons for the ALPs demise, it posits some bigger-picture issues, such as the fact that the Labor Party was once 'the engine room of national renewal, the generators of change, the pioneers of reform.' Thus Bramston asks, what happened to stifle this?

Bramston outlines some key reasons for Labor's fall from grace, with Rudd and Gillard being the main focus. Bramston's view is that the Rudd-Gillard government was weakened by internal squabbling, little collective approach to decision-making and a failure to communicate a compelling story. Therefore Bramston's view is that the ALP is faced with the current challenges: it is beset with leadership anxiety, an identity crisis, and is no longer representative of the community. These are key points that the current Labor party must focus and improve on if it's to win the trust of voters again.

Bramston's book also paints Rudd as an uncontrollable egotistic leader. While these qualities of Rudd's have become more widely known since the ALPs 2013 election loss, I was still baffled by how out-of-control his behaviours were. One example Bramston gives is of Rudd changing his mind on policies in the minutes before announcing them to press without any prior consultation from anyone. Bramston includes the account of one campaigner from this time who states that 'people literally looked at each other and said, "What the fuck...?"' in response to Rudd's actions. It's outrageous to think that such erratic behaviour was evident in a political campaign from our prime minister.

What I disliked about this book is how unfairly scathing Bramston is towards Gillard, particularly on the back of discussing Rudd's aforementioned farcical behaviour. Yes, Gillard wasn't perfect. But Bramston goes so far as to say that Gillard had little to do with the policies Labor implemented during her prime-ministership, which is quite ludicrous when one of her biggest talents was her ability to negotiate deals with other MPs to get 561 bills passed through the parliament - an impressive feat for a minority government.

Despite this weakness, a strength of the book is the inclusion of interviews with the late Gough Whitlam, Bob Hawke and Paul Keating. Their comments on the Labor Party both past and present provide engaging retrospective insights which for the most part compliment the arguments Bramston posits in his book. Keating summarises the recent troubles Labor has found itself in well when he states, 'Good intentions are simply never enough. Governments must have good intention with the facilitation.' It's the latter that the ALP has been lacking in recent times.

This book didn't convince me to run out and become a member of the ALP, and I'm fairly confident this was not Bramston's intention. Instead it is a blunt, unapologetic critique of the bizarre events that led up to and shaped the fate of the Labor Party in the 2013 election. While there's a lot of work for the ALP to reinstate itself as the progressive party it once was, Bramston outlines a number of suggestions to combat this, making it a great pocket-sized chronicle for anyone wanting to know more about the current ALP.

Review: Bewitched & Bedevilled: Women write the Gillard years, edited by Samantha Trenoweth

I was really looking forward to reading this book when I learnt of it, mostly because I was often baffled by the public's excessively critical treatment of Julia Gillard throughout her prime ministership. After all, Gillard was a highly intelligent and respectable woman; an ideal candidate for the leadership of the Labor party given its precarious position in 2010. In fact, Gillard was not the first person to have deposed another sitting Prime Minister (Hawke and Keating had done the same). Nor was she the first politician to go back on her word following her election win. Yet, Julia was treated differently, and at times quite viciously, compared to her previous male counterparts. This collection of essays, written by a range of Australia's prominent female voices, explores some of these reasons from a variety of perspectives.

The essays range from Chloe Hooper's firsthand impressions of Ms. Gillard after spending a number of days touring with her, to delving into what sexism looks like in 21st century Australia. Helen Pringle (p.79) provides an interesting perspective on this when she states that 'It is no longer acceptable, of course, to bar women from the political world, or to say outright that they do not belong in that world. The primary way to practise exclusion now is to laugh at the women who enter the political world.' Pringle goes on to explore the ways that women, such as Julia Gillard and Anna Bligh, have been laughed at, and at times humiliated, for entering worlds previously dominated by men.

Tanya Plibersek provides us with her insider's perspective of the Labor party, and how their failure to communicate effectively with the public - despite all of the bills they were passing - played a vital role in their eventual September 2013 demise. Jane Caro analyses the ways in which Gillard was morphed from a highly respected politician into a backstabbing witch by the media. Caro likens this shift in opinion to the subjugation of women into the female archetypes of the sacrificial Virgin Mary or damned Whore - a shift that Gillard herself experienced in her role-change. Hence, the contributions from these women, in addition to others included in this collection, cover a breadth of arguments and create a very compelling read.

However, it was the following points which really stood out for me within the essays. They were points which, once highlighted, seemed blatantly obvious and hypocritical. Yet for some reason they have remained largely unspoken. 

Firstly, Lette (p.34) points out the irony of Australia being the second country in the world to grant women the right to vote, yet it still remains an inherently blokey nation.

Secondly, although comparing racism to sexism can be tenuous, it is useful when considering which jokes are still acceptable in Australian culture. For example, people will often preface potentially racist jokes or slurs with 'I'm not racist, but.....', or 'No offence, but....' However, as Pringle (p.80) points out, this is not really the case with sexist jokes. You won't really hear people say 'I'm not a mysogynist, but...'. Thus, 'misogyny still falls within a framework of acceptability [in Australia] and this framework helps to convert the prejudices of individuals into discrimination' (Pringle, p.80). This needs to change.

Thirdly, the significance attached to the private lives of women is much greater than that attached to men. No one critiques men's hobbies, regardless of whether or not these fall into gender stereotypes; no one asks how men 'juggle it all' (instead, it's just accepted that they can); and no one pays attention to whether or not men are good homemakers, whether or not they have children, or how much quality time they have at home (Pringle, p.84, p.90; Ford p.107, p.108). Again, such attitudes only serve to reinforce gender stereotypes and sexism.

Fourthly, jokes or slurs made against male politicians (such as Tony Abbott's budgey smugglers or John Howard's eyebrows) are not used as evidence that they cannot do their jobs. Unfortunately this is not the case for women, where such attacks are used as evidence of their incompetence (Ford, p.111). 

I particularly enjoyed reading the perspective of Helen Razer, who asserts that Gillard was not as concerned about gender as we were led to believe. Instead Gillard was 'too busy being swept away in the love of numbers and of outcomes to ever really give much thought to her sex' (p.50). In fact, Razer blames Gillard's inability to talk about being a woman as the reason for the electorate turning on her. I'm not sure how far I'm able to support this assertion: I suspect Gillard would have been subject to as much (if not more) scrutiny had she mentioned her gender more. And Gillard did show she was concerned with women's rights when she delivered her now famous 'Mysogyny speech.' But again, Razer claims that this speech was given more significance than Julia ever intended, with it telling 'us more about the needs of its audience to be exhilarated than...about the politician who uttered it.' Razer (p.49) sums up Gillard well in the following way:

'If you were looking for her, this was Julia: a leader uncomfortable with the illusory work of smiling and playing to traditional and social media. A leader enamoured of detail, hard work and the hope the electorate was not too lazy and stupid to begin to understand Central Banking 101. A cheerful, hands-on liberal-Keynesian who believed that her constituents deserved an explanation.'  

Thus, essays such as Razer's offered a refreshing perspective on Julia's prime ministership which we were rarely privy to.

If you are not particularly fond of Gillard in any way, shape or form, I do still think this will be a valuable read. It may challenge your thoughts regarding why you disliked Gillard in the first place. After all, people who have interacted with Gillard, particularly in a professional capacity, speak very fondly of her and how likeable she is.

Alternatively, if you have no intention of changing your opinion of Gillard, it's still a stirring exploration of attitudes towards women, causing the reader to reflect on just how far Australia (and even they themselves) have come in accepting women in roles traditionally taken on by males. As Caro (p.19) suggests, exploring the issues which arose from Gillard's prime ministership allows us to explore 'what our reactions to Gillard say about us, not her.'

All in all, this is a thoroughly enjoyable, informative and well-balanced read - I couldn't put it down. I'll finish by borrowing Julia Gillard's own words, taken from her concession speech. In discussing how she thought her gender impacted on her prime ministership, Gillard stated that it 'doesn't explain everything, it doesn't explain nothing - it explains some things. And it is for the nation to think in a sophisticated way about those shades of grey.'

Bewitched and Bedeviled is a fantastic starting point for exploring those shades of grey.

I was fortunate enough to meet Ms. Gillard at the 2012 Anzac Day ceremony
in Gallipoli - I couldn't help but throw this in.