Return to Waimarino County

Martin Edmond

When I first heard Martin Edmond read some excerpts from his works during his lightning visit to Massey University on August 27, I thought he was reading poetry. His delivery was like that of a poet but he was reading prose. Edmond has written two books of poetry but of late writes non-fiction. This tall, tanned New Zealander is based in Sydney and is the son of the writer Lauris Edmond. He spent his childhood in Ohakune, which lies in Waimarino County almost under the shadow of Mt Ruapehu, and has recently published a book of essays called Waimarino County & other excursions. 

Autobiographical essays take up the early part of the book with the opening essay ‘Waimarino County’ dripping in decadent rural imagery. There is something of Eric Lee-Johnson’s artistic vision in Edmond’s descriptions of abandoned farmhouses; something of the melancholia of late Sargeson in the poverty of a region once left to rust (before the opening of the Ruapehu ski-fields revived Ohakune); something of Sam Hunt's On the Road as Edmond revisits small town stations next to the Main Trunk line. The following excerpt from the opening essay says it all:

A wagon load of shattered glass on a siding beneath a sky bright with rain. A two-stroke motor, whining like a mason bee in the cells of my prodigal mind. A cross-eyed railway clerk and an enormous Maori in a Swandri. Two kids ride by on bicycles, weaving between the steel girders holding up the corrugated iron roof of the station veranda. In a forgotten nook between the station proper and the toilet block, a sullen girl in a checked shirt and jeans is whipper-snippering the waist-high grass. Soaking wet stems churn in the teeth of the blade, . . .
The rain gets heavier. I can hear it now on the tin roof of the veranda, the single event inside an immensity of time on a small town railway platform in the back country on a wet Monday afternoon. What am I doing here. 

(‘Waimarino County’ p. 3)

Martin Edmond at Albany (27/8)

Atrium Building
level 3 common room
Massey Albany

Wednesday 27th August
3 to 4 pm

We’ve invited Martin Edmond to come and give a reading / q & a session on campus as part of our regular seminar series.

I'd especially recommend this talk to those of you who are curious about where New Zealand writing is going at present.

Martin Edmond’s latest books Waimarino County and Other Excursions (AUP, 2007) and Luca Antara: Passages in Search of Australia (Adelaide: East Street, 2006) were both nominated for Montana awards, a prize he won in 2004 with Chronicle of the Unsung.

His work in the genre of (so-called) “Creative Non-fiction” is taught in our Massey Life Writing and Travel Writing courses, but he’s also an award-winning poet and fiction-writer. He’ll be reading from his latest book, The Evolution of Mirrors (Otoliths Press, 2008). For further details on that book, please go here.



The other dates in his NZ tour are:

Thursday 21 August, 6pm, Wellington
Writers Read: Martin Edmond
Level D, Room 16, Block 5
Entrance A, (access through "The Pyramid")
Massey University Wellington Campus
Wallace Street
Chair: Ingrid Horrocks.
RSVP: to Jo Fink (j.w.fink@massey.ac.nz or 04 801 5799 x 6696) by Wednesday 20 August.

Friday 22 August, 7pm, Palmerston North
Massey University's Writer Read series
Guest Writer: Martin Edmond
Free entry
Palmerston North City Library
4 The Square

Thursday 28 August, 2.30pm, Auckland
Mollie: On the Track of the Ohakune Elephant 1957-2008
Michele Leggott, Martine Edmond, Mandy Harper, Mary Sewall conduct an afternoon of talks and readings about Mollie, the circus elephant whose death in 1957 drew the attention of zoologist and curator Barney McGregor at Auckland University College. For more information contact Mary Sewall, m.sewall@auckland.ac.nz or 373 7599 x 83758.
Old Biology Building (McGregor 1 Seminar Rm)
University of Auckland

Thursday 28 August, 5.30pm, Auckland
Book Launch
Jack Ross launches Martin Edmond's The Big O Revisited (Soapbox Press). Register attendance with Laurel Walker, i.walker@auckland.ac.nz
Main Foyer
Old Biology Building
University of Auckland

Obviously the last of those dates is of most interest to me. I'll be launching Martin's first book of poems in almost twenty years (Streets of Music won the Jessie Mackay Award for Best First Book of Poetry in 1980, and was followed by Houses, Days, Skies (1988). Michael Steven has done a wonderful job as publisher and designer of this book of poems.

Notes from the session on Mr Pip by Lloyd Jones

Posted on behalf of Mary -

This post contains lots of interesting stuff but it only relates to one aspect of what were discussing last Monday and I am going to try to explain how i think it might connect. Thanks to Anna for starting the discussion off so well!

Mr Pip is narrated retrospectively by a young woman who is telling about her experiences between the ages of 13 and 15 (‘skinny thirteen year-old’ on the first page). In fiction retrospective narration can work in many ways - sometimes a lot is retrospective assessment set against the past/present experience of the story and therefore moving between different understandings of a situation, sometimes the focus is more on the innocence at the time and although in the past tense reminds us very infrequently of the longer perspective. This latter manner is how Mr Pip is structured - so as you say Greg it is a useful voice in which to tell the events because it can engage readers who are also ignorant of the history and context of this island and because the young perspective is vivid and describes in a detail (the beach, Mr Watts, the stories, etc, etc) that is useful to evoke that world for those unfamiliar with it. Often child perspectives are to bring alive what we no longer see, or judge too much see. (And I agree with what you say about the choice of a girl to tell the story - keeping the narrative out in the open and so on).

However both 'convenient and versatile' imply something else, you seem to be saying that this was a good way for a writer with himself a limited knowledge to tell a story – perhaps, but isn't that worrying: aren't gaps and silences left intentionally in a story to hint at knowledge and understanding that surpasses what is actually included.

That makes me come back to on the one hand the tension between the retrospective narrator and the protagonist - remember Jenny commented on how in Great Expectations Pip comments in complex and often self-critical way on what he is telling. This mix can thicken a fiction - make it more meaningful as we think about the difference between different perspectives.

Another issue is the one raised about Sargeson and the distance between Sargeson's narrators (and often his characters) and the perspective of the implied author. Sargeson's work hinges on this distance - he uses an unreliable narrator ( I don't think Matlida is quite that though we th reader do think beyond her naivete at times) - and the narrator is telling a story (boxes within boxes) of someone he has met or known. It's usually a story which he the narrator is moved by but dosn't quite know why - ie he emotionally feels its significance but can't explain why or what it is. The difference from what greg is suggesting is in Sargeson’s case that this is an extremely conscious strategy for telling a story which is particularly designed to comment on what Sargeson the author thought was a judgmental and impoverished society in which those real experiences of joy, love, revelation, purposefulness were experienced by ordinary working people ( particaularly men)denied and destroyed by a utilitarian and judgmental (puritanical) middle class. Hence he is dignifying a real experience of the world by creating these inarticaulte narrators. He wrote mostly short fiction often - a good genre in which to sustain this tension. You acn of course deconstruct this also -s howing that the desire to show without telling, to hide knowledge and to write plainly is in fact a continuation of the puritanism he was trying to break away from.

So the question comes back to MR Pip - does Lloyd Jones use the naivete of Matilda's to some purpose - other than a useful way to tell a fable or fairystory. Is there a tension between Matilda's new understanding of the world and her first one. I think to give him his due at the end Lloyd Jones is trying to show that story can come via a pathetic example – that is it arises from NZ in the form of a rather lost and undirected actor in an arid community who gets involved with the lonely island girl living next door - Mr Watts.

But somehow I am not convinced both because the narrator's rethink has been delayed without building up a questioning tension as Dickens or Sargeson do in different ways and because the pattern of story- telling in the main part of the book has been so much the pattern of colonial appropiation, misrecognising or leaving out and erasing the culture of the island, and privileging the power of story as it emenates from the Western classic - even if its conduit, Mr Watts, is unlikley.

I hope I have explained this - this last part probably needs better articulation!

The choice to go back to the island is, as Bruce said, also interesting - why? And why escape alone - in the initial plan?

The constructions of parenthood/motherhood in Relative Strangers and its narrative effect on emotional and global terrorism within the novel.

This seminar was an exploration of my idea for the final essay for this paper. Although some of the questions remain only partially answered, I thought it might be useful to blog the seminar notes. Thanks to everyone for their really great comments and feedback during the seminar.

Global context of novel:

A world in which terrorism is, if not necessarily happening more often, is at the forefront of people’s minds more as it is increasingly happening in settings seen as “closer to home” and under circumstances that would normally be considered safe. The terrorism referred to in this novel is against America: 9/11 and the fictive Honolulu bombings and describes the recent and current (?) moral panic around terrorist attacks. This global context of the novel is important for two reasons: One, it sets the backdrop for the interpersonal emotional terrorism between the characters and secondly it becomes a crisis point event for Chloe, illuminating the essential differences in her and Allen’s views on parenthood and the importance thereof.

Personal Context of the novel:

Chloe and Colin, the central characters of the novel, have been both the victim and perpetrators of what I am choosing to call emotional terrorism. What is emotional terrorism? Quite simply put it is the awful things that people do to one another – either with a specific purpose in mind or to simply cause the other person pain. Examples of this terrorism are sprinkled throughout the novel, but I believe the following are the key events as they centre around the key theme of parenthood:

Colin:

Victim of:

Being denied fatherhood by “fate” and Anna

Perpetrator of:

Denying his father a relationship with his son

Chloe:

Victim of :

(Adoption)

Abandonment by Allan of his parental duties

Perpetrator of:

Forcing a parenthood on an unwilling participant

It is important for me to note at this point that there have been other traumas suffered by the characters which have also affected them, but I am choosing to focus on the specific instances of interpersonal trauma.

Questions:

How does the portrayal of parenthood, particularly motherhood, in the narrative mitigate or indeed heal the effects of the emotional terrorism in the novel? Does it bring about any resolution? Is motherhood therefore privileged in the novel? Can the healing effect of parenthood in the novel be extrapolated to the global context of the novel? Should it be?

Construction of parenthood/motherhood:

Construction of motherhood – see the construction of Rachel vs Anna – Rachel more sympathetic despite her myriad flaws as she was on the way to being a mother compared to Anna who doesn’t want kids.

Motherhood for Chloe:

Has a grounding effect after the emotional trauma she suffers at being given up for adoption.

Is all consuming, what she does. Performative element, given her acting past? Like she is acting like the parent she wanted her birth mother to be.

As Bruce said in his seminar, Toby re-affrims her belief in life.

Colin’s reaction to Toby and Chloe’s relationship:

Has been denied fatherhood twice and so reacts to Chloe and Toby’s relationship.

Makes him re-examine his life and the traumas he has suffered and the relationships he has had/has (Rach; Anna; his father) – effect of parenthood therefore constructed as having a “healing effect”.

Birth parents of Chloe – mirrors Colin in being the unusual figure of a man wanting a baby which is opposite to Allan:

This male desire for parenthood highlights Allan’s shunning of his paternal responsibility within the novel. Allan is viewed as a criminal in the narrative for abandoning his family and not wanting to come back even under circumstances that Chloe views as a wake up call. Additionally, this male desire for parenthood, which is seen to be “unusual” in our society highlights Anna’s lack of desire to be a mother, something seen as “unnatural” in our society.

Overall, then, parenthood and particularly motherhood is privileged in this novel and is imbued with healing properties.

Some other questions I need to consider...

How does this construction of parenthood mitigate or heal the emotional terrorism/trauma mentioned above?

Does this construction of parenthood bring about resolution in the narrative or does it just open the way for new possibilities?

Is "emotional terrorism" the best way of describing what I am trying to identify in the novel?

Can this or even should this be extrapolated to the global context of the novel? Is Neale trying to infer anything about possible solutions for today’s world’s condition?

Some idea of where this is headed...

For Colin, the resolution (in my view) centres around becoming more self-aware through coming into contact with a child. This is exemplified in his vision for the memorial to 9/11 in Ground Zero - the relevant passage is on page 262-263. This scene of domesticity which culminates with those in the memorial leaning over the baby throws into relief what Colin has experienced. In leaning over the cot in the memorial, people are supposed to wonder “where are the parents?” I think that the implicit answer is that it’s us. Those people leaning over the cot are the parents. This epiphany of self-awareness and need to take individual responsibility, I think, is Emma Neale’s answer to the questions of what can be done about terrorism on a personal and a political scale. By placing this scene of domesticity and parenthood in the centre of Ground Zero links the personal with the political in a powerful way.

Lunching with Michele

"I hear you've done an assignment on one of my poems?"

Here I am. I am face to face with my favourite poet and one of my literary idols, Michele Leggott. And she's talking to me. Me! So, of course, my mind goes blank at the all crucial moment, robbing me of anything even mildly intelligent to say. Of all the times my mind chooses to stop working (and it does it with alarming regularity), why now!!

Bumbling idiot act aside, this experience of meeting Michele was one of the most outstanding and inspirational experiences of my entire life. She had come to Massey's Albany campus to give a lecture in the Chancellor's Series and what a treat it was. She read us five of her poems which are all the more beautiful when read out by their author; showed us her tokotoko (the ceremonial stick each Poet Laureate is given, each personally designed for them by Jacob Scott) and then spoke about her writing and its current connection to journeys.

If this was the closest I got to Michele Leggott ever again, I would die a very happy woman. However, our wonderful lecturers Mary and Jack (three cheers for Mary and Jack!!) arranged for us to have lunch with her afterwards. Which was where I found myself, directly opposite one of the women I admire most, barely unable to remember my own name, let alone the poem of hers I had written about. It was of course, a woman, a rose and what has it have to do with her or they with one another, a poem I have read many times and love dearly. My most sincere apologies to Michele for my appalling memory.

Over lunch, our group had the opportunity to discuss her work, her teaching, her Laureateship and her inspiration with her. I think the two things that stood out for me the most of all of the things she said were that she takes her inspiration from her journey through life (including trips to the shops as well as Portugal) and that, when I answered her question "Are any of you here writers?" with "I try to be" she said, "No, you say, YES, I am a writer."

So, YES. I am a writer. And I have Michele Leggott to thank for a boost of creative confidence. It doesn't get much better than that!

Poet Laureate's Journey leads to Albany

Michele Leggott

New Zealand Poet Laureate Michele Leggott was guest speaker at Massey University, Albany, on August 13 as part of the 2008 Chancellor’s Lecture Series. Leggott lectures at Auckland University, but has much in common with the Massey Albany campus, having worked on various literary projects with Drs Jack Ross and Mary Paul. In the picture above, Leggott is holding a fire stick, a ceremonial keepsake for being the Poet Laureate which was carved by Jacob Scott. A special coating on part of the stick is capable of creating fire through friction. Leggott’s tenure as Poet Laureate lasts for two years, and she says that she is already planning her next “journey” once her tenure ends. “As one project folds another unfolds,” she told a near-capacity audience, “I think I know how it’s going to happen.”

Pictured above with Leggott are students and staff from the Massey postgraduate paper ‘Recent Poets and Fiction in New Zealand’. From left, Anna Leclerq, Jack Ross, Michele Leggott, Kathryn Lee, Mary Paul, Bruce Craig.

Authorial Voice in 'Mr Pip'

Lloyd Jones, author of Mr Pip (2006), has written 14 books since 1991, including novels and children’s stories. In that time frame, he has either been short-listed for or won a dozen or so national book awards, including at least one children’s book award. The latter implies that Jones is adept at knowing how to ‘speak’ to children, which brings us to the question of the authorial voice in Mr Pip: Jones chose a university graduate named Matilda recalling her life at age 14 onwards in a village in Bougainville cut off from the outside world by an encircling war.

Before discussing Matilda, let us backtrack for a moment to an essay called ‘The Godly Roof', which was written by R. A. Copland and first appeared in the New Zealand periodical Landfall in 1968. In the essay Copland discusses the authorial voice in literature, particularly that of Frank Sargeson. For Copland, authors continually battle with what level of intelligence to give their characters without it seeming forced. If we apply that statement to Emma Neale’s 2006 novel Relative Strangers, it was not a huge jump for Neale – who holds a PhD on expatriate New Zealand women writers – to speak in the voice of the protagonist Chloe, who also has an enquiring mind and is continually taking night courses to keep herself intellectually stimulated. Likewise in the 1987 novel Dirty Work written by Nigel Cox, the protagonist Gina Tully is a middle class girl with a college education, so it is not a huge jump for Cox to emulate Tully’s voice, however, crossing the gender divide to speak as a ‘postmodern Ms’ no doubt was. 

In short, both the above authors and their protagonists are almost like us. In contrast, Copland writes that Sargeson wrote with his left hand (not literally) to achieve the realism of his characters, so distanced were they from his intellect.

So how does Copland’s discussion about what level of intelligence to give a book’s character transfer to Mr Pip? At age 14, Matilda is at a very convenient and versatile age as a protagonist. She is old enough to comprehend what the adults in the village talk about and has access to the world of children through her classmates. Yet she is still exposed to the violence of war, as can be seen in the segment where her mother sacrifices herself to save Matilda from being raped. But why did Jones choose a female voice? One answer is that if the narrator had been a male from the same age group, he would have been preoccupied with whether he should join the rebels, as other boys around his age had done, or whether he would eventually be forced to. In short, the male world and the war would have overridden the narrative. So by having a young woman as narrator, Mr Pip keeps the narrative out in the open, within the village dynamics, not hidden in the jungle with the fighters. Plus, for much of the time during the book, the narrator appears to be either absorbed in a literary world, or in shock after experiencing close at hand the horrors of war, a condition that in the real world creates a sort of tunnel vision. Both devices are handy veils if the author is not quite knowledgeable about a lived reality.

Finally, in keeping with his previous books targeting children, to some extent Jones is using a author's device that has worked for him before. In 2004 he wrote Everything You Need to Know About the World by Simon Eliot. The book was a finalist in the 2005 New Zealand Post Book Awards for Children. In the book a narrator named Simon Eliot creates a worldview for children in the 9-14 years age group. Sound familiar? The upper level of the target age group is the same age as Matilda, the protagonist in Mr Pip. Jones is familiar with the dialogue of that age group.