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: Ducks on the Pond, by Anne Summers

I recently read an interview by Eleanor Catton, Booker Prize winning author of The Luminaries. In the interview, Catton explains the uniqueness of novels compared to other art-forms, saying that when you read a good novel, your mind and body become so wholeheartedly drawn into it that the experience is an all-encompassing one for the reader. Nothing going on around you matters, and you want to do all you can to stay in and continue experiencing the world that's being presented to you by the author.

This all-encompassing phenomenon is one I'm familiar with. And it's one that I experienced while reading Anne Summers' remarkable autobiography, Ducks on the Pond. For those of you who don't know, Summers is an esteemed Australian writer and journalist, best known for her involvement in feminist writing, editing and publishing; including The Misogyny Factor. It was actually after reading The Misogyny Factor that I wanted to learn more about Summers, and this is how I came across Ducks on the Pond. And it didn't disappoint. Set from Summers' birth in 1945 up until 1976, I felt like I was completely transported into her world and living a double life while reading it. 

Now you may be thinking - 30 years, that's an awfully short span for an interesting autobiography. Right? Wrong. Summers' numerous achievements during that relatively short amount of time is positively astounding. From becoming heavily involved in the Australian Women's Movement in the 1970s, to opening one of the first women's-only refuges in Australia, to publishing her first book (the controversially titled Damned Whores and God's Police), it's hard to believe that Summers achieved all that she did in that little time.

However, it wasn't an easy journey. Summers' recounts growing up in the oppressively conservative era of the 1950s, where 'there were only three things a woman could do: get married and have kids, become a nun or end up an old spinster' (p.69). She details the disillusion of having to select a pathway based on these rigid archetypes, as well as the various conflicts she faced when she did not meet the expectations of her strongly Catholic family. Summers eventually left home to pursue a more liberating life, facing many challenges along the way in a world which did not support independent women. 

But while Summers did face some tough, and at times distressing, challenges, she also recounts the happier times, such as what it was like growing up during the thrilling 1960s. This was one of my favourite sections of the book, namely because the 1960s is one of my favourite eras of history, and one which I would have loved to have grown up in myself. Reading Summers' vivid accounts of going to the concerts of Bob Dylan and first discovering the music of The Beatles, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Led Zeppelin and Jim Morrison and the Doors was riveting - as if I had stepped back in time and was reliving it all with her. Summers captures the novelty and excitement of this era brilliantly, building up to the new ways society would re-think the social roles of men and women in the coming decade, where, to paraphrase Bob Dylan, the times they were a changin'.

Still, Summers doesn't try to gloss over how difficult it was to instigate change during this time. In this way Ducks on the Pond shed a new light on this era for me, by detailing how difficult it was for people to make changes. It can often be easy to get caught up in the excitement of the 1970s and how much change was happening then, while forgetting that there was still plenty of strong resistance against the causes people were fighting for. Nevertheless, reading about the sheer resilience and admirable persistence of Summers and her allies was inspiring and fascinating, making me question just how much effort people are willing to go to nowadays to protest against unjust causes. 

Overall Ducks on the Pond is the extraordinary story of how one woman refused to let the cultural and social boundaries of the time dictate what she could achieve. For it was Summers' firm belief in the right for women to be the subjects of their own lives which was the driving force behind so many of her actions. Summers herself realises how fortunate her life has been, largely attributing it to the power of education in freeing her. For, with education Summers says, 'I learned it was possible to have big dreams and bold ambitions. I could make my own life, and I would' (p.143). It's a fascinating, inspiring and powerful account of growing up in mid-century modern Australia, and is an Australian Story that deserves to be more widely read.

Review: Destroying the Joint, edited by Jane Caro

The catalyst for the collection of essays that is Destroying the Joint: Why Women Have to Change the World was a comment made in 2012 by a male radio shock jock. I'm not going to mention his name - even though some of you may already know it - but I will tell you about the comment since it did set the context for this book. 

The comment was made in relation to the then Prime Minister Julia Gillard's intentions to donate money to women in the Pacific for the development of their leadership skills. This shock jock claimed that women were doing enough damage in the world already - specifically naming ex-Victorian Police Commissioner Christine Nixon and lord mayor of Sydney Clover Moore as examples - so surely we needn't be giving more leadership opportunities to women. In fact, women were doing so much damage in the world that they were 'destroying the joint', thus laying fame to this phrase. 

A cheeky tweet by Jane Caro in response to this shock jock's comment - 'Got time on my hands tonight so thought I'd come up with new ways to destroy the joint, being a woman and all. Ideas welcome.' - led to an unprecedented national response from women who were very much angry/disgusted/exasperated that such comments were (and still are) being made about them publicly in 2012. The women involved decided to unite, and so the Destroy the Joint campaign was born.

Thus the essays in Destroying the Joint are in response to this very notion of women 'destroying the joint'. They provide a variety of angles on this idea, such as whether or not women are actually in 'the joint'; whose joint it is that we are/are not destroying; who has a right to say whether or not we are destroying the joint; and, if we accept that we are destroying the joint - as this doesn't have to be a negative thing - whether or not we should take more pride of destroying it.

Written from political, social, environmental, creative, educational and disability perspectives, Destroying the Joint provides a variety of lenses through which this issue can be viewed through, as well as how it relates to wider feminist issues. The way the essays are written make it very accessible for those curious to learn more about feminism and it's vast scope. For me, they provided a solid introduction into avenues of feminism I'd like to pursue further.

I guess my next question with a book like this is how to keep the conversation going? And how do we start including people that might not normally pick up a book like this so that they can enter and be part of this conversation? Because I believe that's so important if we do want more action to take place to help feminist messages spread and start having more of an impact on everyday life for women and men. Now, I don't quite know the answer to this question I have posed, but I do know that I want to keep engaging in these issues and conversations so that change can become more of a reality.

I'll finish off by including some cracking quotes from the contributors to Destroying the Joint so that you can get a taste of this fantastic collection of essays. 

Michelle Law:

'Being a feminist is not about despising men, or overtaking them...Feminism is about despising an idea. And the idea is that women are unequal to men. It is that they deserve or should expect the kind of sexism, misogyny and mistreatment that they receive. It is that any women who rejects this treatment will be met with aggressive, irrational and sometimes unintelligible scorn. When we are destroying the joint, we are calling out sexism and misogyny.'

Catherine Deveney:

'The truth is, there is not one feminism, but many feminisms. And just because you are pro woman does not mean you are anti men. I think one of the main reasons I am a feminist is because I love boys and men so much and I have hated the way society has expected them to live, love and be. Feminism is not anti men. It's anti arseholes, misogynists, pricks, creeps, thugs and bigots.'

Senator Penny Wong

'We live in the same Australia, we share many values, but our experiences and therefore our perceptions of reality can be so different. If we are to understand across these differences, we have to be capable of more than tolerance. We have to try to imagine another's experience and to do so with imagination, compassion and respect.'

Overall, Destroying the Joint is very much an informative, refreshing and entertaining insight into current Australian feminism and one which I very much recommend.

Want more?

Keep engaged in the conversation by following the Destroy the Joint community on Facebook or Twitter.

I've also recently discovered Cherchez la Femme, a fantastically entertaining and engaging feminist podcast that I also highly recommend you check out.

Review: A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing, by Eimear McBride

Wow. I'm stumped. Speechless. Lost for words. Except I want to, need to, write some in this space. So that I can share this unique book with you.

Adjectives that come to mind are: startling; intense; jagged; brutal; unapologetic; transfixing; haunting; poetic; beautiful; brilliant. I've not read a book that has made me feel so dazed yet so powerfully moved after reading it as A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing has.

It's the story of a girl, her brother, love, abuse, and everything else that happens along the way. The way that Eimear McBride tells this story is astounding, as she goes beyond conventional language structures to do so. And McBride does so so exquisitely, taking the reader on one hell of a ride.

That's all I'm going to say. Because that's all that needs to be said.

Review: Night Games, by Anna Krien

I have to admit, football is not my favourite topic to talk about, let alone read about. But in saying that, the particular culture it tends to promote - that being a highly masculine world where players are given an almost god-like status - is still one that I find somewhat fascinating, perplexing and at times disturbing. So when I discovered Anna Krien's Night Games, I was hoping to get an insight into these issues of sex, power and sport that have intrigued me.

Night Games follows a rape trial involving the Collingwood Football Club in the aftermath of the 2010 Grand Final against St. Kilda. Krien uses this trial as a lens to explore society's attitudes towards rape; gender and power imbalances in male-dominated sports; and how problematic it is that these attitudes remain accepted in everyday culture. It's like Krien has held up a giant mirror panel through which the trial is originally refelcted in, dropped it so it shatters, and then we the readers are left to pick up the pieces and put it back together again. Though each time we pick up a piece, our own images are reflected in the pieces themselves, reminding us that our own ideas and experiences will always influence how we view particular scenarios. The glass piece itself is never perfectly whole again either - lines from where the pieces join up are still evident so that the original scenario can never be viewed in the same way again; and some of the pieces have gone missing so that we can never truly know the full story. 

That's what reading Night Games is like, with Krien highlighting how fragmentary trials, particularly rape ones, can be, and how many shades of grey are involved with trying to understand the act of rape itself and the actions of the people directly involved. It's what I most enjoyed about reading Night Games, with the shades of grey Krien gutsily explores extending to attitudes towards sex and power in sport. It's very risky territory and Krien is very aware of this herself, stating, 'You've got the rapist or the liar...and by trying to seek out a shade of grey I'm protecting one of them' (p.258). She goes on to state:

'It is as if there's a fear that venturing into a grey area to discuss the complexities of consent and rape will unravel some forty years of feminist spadework, that people will be unnecessarily confused by any such discussion. But surely feminism isn't that fragile. And isn't it obvious that people are already confused? For despite the law being clear on the definition of consent, neither the police nor the public prosecutors seem to have much faith in a jury's ability to convict in certain cases, even if they do satisfy the legal criteria.' (p.259)

Thus, this very issue of how to delve into these shades of grey is a central theme of Night Games. The issues that unravel are many, including, but not limited to ideas that:

• Thinking a women is asking for it when drunk can be just as bad as thinking all footballers are badly behaved jocks and potential rapists. 
• AFL is one of the few male-only sports codes in the world that boast a large proportion of female supporters. Yet the gender and power imbalances are still so vast. Why? 
• Are football 'groupies' complicit in promoting rape culture? Or are they examples of sexually empowered women?
• Boys, as well as women, are used, abused and discarded in football, though obviously in very different ways.

Krien is so well read and justifies the positions she offers with such clarity and conviction that as a reader you feel that she is representing the issues in a very fair and honest manner.

Night Games, as Krien states towards the end of the book, is not anti-sport. After all, not all footballers, let alone sportsmen, treat the people they interact with poorly. But what needs to change is the 'men who use sport as power and the people - teammates, fans, coaches clubs, doctors, police, journalists, groupies - who let them do whatever they want.' Night Games is one gripping insight into this complex, multifaceted world, and has allowed me to begin seeing the shades of grey where I once didn't.