Quilts at the Canberra Show

Last month we went to the Royal Canberra Show. There were many impressive items on display, but I felt the quality of the quilts deserved a post of their own. I love the colours and the shapes; the design and the intricacy.

 

I also know the hours of work that goes into making them, and I like to think that people stitched them while sat around with friends, listening to music or podcasts, or enjoying solitude and a beverage of their choice.

Of course, I have a soft spot for the cats, but in the interests of fairness, I should include the dogs too. And the giraffe is just gorgeous.

The abstraction and the palette chosen are fascinating. Yellow seems a popular choice for happiness as in the sunflowers, but it also lends a confident golden glow in some of the bolder designs.

It's fascinating to see these quilts as a historical record, whether it be of ancient Egyptian culture or the more recent late Queen ELizabeth II. 

Friday Five: Io'll Give it Foive: Rating Systems

I am currently on a theatre judging panel, and previously I have been a professional reviewer. Don't get me started on the talent and skill required to review or the inherent complications with reviewing theatre in a small town (you will receive death threats if you say anything negative about a play that someone's mate's in, and woe betide anyone who says that the kid in the school fiasco was anything other than a little angel - it's always better than Broadway...). Everyone thinks they can do it, and, given the proliferation of social media and available platforms, they try. Spoiler: they can't.

Anyway, as I am scarred for life by precocious and entitled responses to reviews ('they just didn't get it' is a familiar refrain from people producing sub-standard work that they think is hilarious), that is not what this post is about. Due to the aforementioned social media attitude, many people don't even read reviews - they just want to see the rating. And in a world where semantically 'average' (which is perfectly acceptable by definition) has come to mean bad, and an A grade is insufficient for your little darling who clearly deserves an A*, how do we rate books, plays, films, etc.?

Our judging guidelines suggest that 1-4 is limited development; 5-6 is well developed, and 7-10 is excellent. According to our mean average (we have eight judges, so we add up the scores and divide by eight), three-quarters of the shows we have seen this year are excellent. I can assure you, dear reader; they are not. But people are afraid to give what is perceived as a 'low' score.

Oftentimes, a simple number out of ten (or five) is sufficient. There was a British TV show called Thank Your Lucky Stars, which ran from 1961 to 1966. As this was before I was born, I never saw it, but I know it featured a segment called Spin-a-Disc in which a guest DJ and three teenagers reviewed three singles. Janice Nicholls, a former office clerk from the Midlands coined the catchphrase, ‘Oi’ll give it foive’, which she said in a strong Black Country accent, and which became a common phrase in our household. 

With certain artistic sports which are included in the Olympics (another topic best avoided unless you want to be in for a long night), the highest and lowest judges' scores are removed so things are supposedly more representative. This is intended to circumvent the Eurovision Song Contest/ Local Theatre Community phenomenon of everyone giving top marks to their best mates. It doesn't always work, but it is a start. Or we could write out formulae and get specific, although still with plenty of room for interpretation, as in some of these rating systems.

1. The Richter Scale: According to Britannica.com, the Richter Scale is a quantitative measure of an earthquake's magnitude, determined using the logarithm of the amplitude (height) of the largest seismic wave calibrated to a scale by a seismograph. Originally devised to measure the magnitude of earthquakes of moderate size (magnitude 3 to magnitude 7), theoretically, the Richter scale has no upper limit, although in practice no earthquake has ever been registered on the scale above magnitude 8.6 (the Valdivia earthquake of 1960). Each increase of one unit on the scale represents a 10-fold increase in the magnitude of an earthquake. In other words, numbers on the Richter scale are proportional to the common (base 10) logarithms of maximum wave amplitudes. Each increase of one unit also represents the release of about 31 times more energy than that represented by the previous whole number on the scale (That is, an earthquake measuring 5.0 releases 31 times more energy than an earthquake measuring 4.0). Confused? Me too - that's why I leave it to the seismologists. 
2. British Board of Film Classification: This one seems relatively straightforward. The focus is 'to help children and families choose well by providing them with the guidance they need to help them choose what's right for them and avoid what's not'. The classifications are - U (suitable for all or 'universal'); PG (Parental Guidance); 12A (Cinema release suitable for 12 years and over); 12 (Video release suitable for 12 years and over); 15 (suitable only for 15 years and over); 18 (suitable only for 18 years and over); R18 (Adults works for licensed premises only). The classification board states on its website that it takes into consideration 'bad language, dangerous behaviour, discrimination, drugs, horror, nudity, sex, violence and sexual violence, when making recommendations. They also consider context, tone and impact - how it makes the audience feel - and even the release format - for example, as DVDs, Blu-rays and VoD content are generally watched at home, there is a higher risk of under-age viewing'. This is not just an organisation designed to spoil your fun, but one which takes seriously its responsibility to prevent the viewing public from experiencing unnecessary trauma. The problems arise because different classification boards have different standards and measures. For example, the Motion Picture Association of film rating system has several different bands (with different age recommendations depending on state) and Americans tend to censor 'bad language' much more heavily than violence. 
3. Magna Carta - Clause 35: Since 1215 it has been enshrined in British law that beer is served in pints (568ml equivalent) and half pints (284ml equivalent). The actual wording is, 'There shall be standard measures of wine, ale, and corn (the London quarter), throughout the kingdom.' This makes perfect sense: you know what you're getting and can compare prices with total transparency. Unlike the system in Australia of pints (which may or may not be the same size as a UK pint), pots, midis, schooners, glasses, handles, schmiddies, butchers, ponies, bobbies and sevens. These are different names and sizes depending on which state is serving your beer. It's annoying and frustrating. Beer should not be messed about like this.

4. Climbing: This is so that wispy-bearded climbers can hang out in cafes drinking mugs of tea and impressing each other with their tales of derring-do and how they plan to conquer the HVD, when it stops raining. As with many areas of specific lingo, they all know what they're talking about and form a club that deliberatly excludes those who don't. The adjective grades attempt to give a sense of the overall difficulty of the climb. This will be influenced by many aspects, including 'seriousness, sustaindness, technical difficulty, exposure, strenousness, rock quality, and any other less tangible aspects which lend difficulty to a pitch.' Apparently it is an open system, which the guidebooks smugly indicate runs from 'Easy, which is barely climbing, to E11, which has been barely climbed'. Along the way we have Moderate (M), Very Difficult (VD), Hard Very Difficult (HVD), Mild Severe (MS), Severe (S), Hard Severe (HS), Mild Very Severe (MVS), Very Severe (VS), Hard Very Severe (HVS), and Extremely Severe. The last category is further broken down into sub-grades from E1 to E11, with the numerical technical grading describing the hardest (crux) move on the climb. You're welcome.
5. The Beaufort Wind Scale: The Shipping Forecast is many people's favourite part of the news, sport and weather radio bulletin. As well as providing a litany of fantastically poetic names (disappointingly many of them are just lumps of rock in the sea), it also enlists the Beaufort wind force scale to deliver weather warnings. The scale ranges from 1.Calm (wind speed <1km/h; probable wave height 0m) to 11.Hurricane (wind speed 118+ km/h; probable wave height 14+m), which is highly scientific with all wind speeds measured at 10 metres above ground using meterological instruments. What is more lyrical are the specifications, which relate descriptions of likely observations on land or at sea. For example, the specification for 5.Fresh Breeze (wind speed 29-38 km/h; probable wave height 2m) is 'Small trees in leaf begin to sway; crested wavelets form on inland waters. Moderate waves, many white horses', while a 9.Strong Gale (wind speed 75-88km/h; probable wave height 7m) is described as, 'Slight structural damage (chimney pots and slates removed). Wave crests topple over, and spray affects visibility'. In case you are wondering about that previously-mentioned hurricane, it is, quite simply, 'Devastation. Air filled with foam and spray, very poor visibility.'

Separating Fact from Fiction: The Chimney Sweeper's Boy

The Chimney Sweeper's Boy by Barbara Vine

Viking

Pp. 343

When Gerald Candless, a critically acclaimed author dies, his daughter, Sarah, is asked to write a memoir of her beloved father. As she starts to research his childhood and origins – i.e. his life before she was born – she soon discovers multiple discrepancies in the narrative. There follows a domestic investigation into family secrets that might make a man change his name and adopt an entirely new persona.

As with many Barbara Vine novels, the timeframe switches back and forth between past and present, and all the family members are affected by the consequences of one man’s actions. Each chapter begins with a ‘quote’ from one of Gerald Candless’ novels, allowing the author to play with her story-within-a-story motif, as Sarah plays amateur sleuth and attempts to mine fact from fiction. The moth on the spines of Gerald Candless’ books (and the jacket of this novel) proves to be a ‘clue’ in the manner of an old-fashioned detective novel, and simultaneously represents a subtle homage by Barbara Vine to the art of cover design.

The secrets are often to cover historic scandals, such as illegitimacy, unwed mothers, class distinctions and homosexuality, which would not raise an eyebrow today. She writes with sadness that such issues could lead to misunderstanding and even murder.  Another familiar trope is the notion of blood being a metaphor for generational inheritance (both positive and negative), while also being a vital fluid.

Like PD James or Robert Goddard, Barbara Vine writes literary suspense novels where the characters are more engaging the plot, and the themes are apparent from the start. Rather than racing to the end to find out whodunnit, the reader spends time with the characters wondering how they feel and what they are going to do about it.

Friday Five: Koala Tea Time

There was another one in the Koala Tea Time set, which had a cute koala and a cup of tea image. The idea was that it spelled out, 'I love spending koala-tea-time with you'. I guess you just had to be there. I gave it to my friend as a gift before I remembered to take a photo of it, so you'll have to take my word for it. 

This next one is from the Absolutely Fabulous set (one of which was featured in a previous Friday Five). All of these designs are from Elise Ross at Spruce Craft Co.

This last one is from the book Feminist Cross Stitch by Stephanie Rohr. I stitched it for International Women's Day and asked on my Facebook page if anyone wanted it. A friend who teaches history in New Zealand requested it, thinking it would be a welcome additional aid to her classes on female suffrage, so I framed it and sent it to her. I'm happy to share any of my cross stitch pieces if you would be prepared to give them a good home. Just let me know.

"The idea that women's rights and human rights are one and the same was first put into writing in the 1830s by female abolitionists. The concept has since been used by many feminist leaders, but perhaps one of the best-known uses of this particular phrase came during Hillary Rodham Clinton's speech at the United Nations Fourth World Conference on Women in 1995. This quote is still relevant today, especially when many rights, such as access to education, reproductive rights, and freedom from gender-related violence, are considered up for debate. It seems like a lot of people could still use this reminder." - Stephanie Rohr

Trouble in Paradise: How the One-Armed Sister Sweeps Her House

 

How the One-Armed Sister Sweeps Her House by Cherie Jones

Tinder Press

Pp. 308

The title refers to a cautionary tale parents tell their daughters not to be willful, as the child in the narrative loses an arm due to curiosity when she enters a tunnel despite dire warnings. The message misfires when Lala (she who is told the tale by her grandmother, Wilma) wonders whether the girl could cope without the limb, swapped for following passion. She is cautioned, ‘but how will she sweep the house with only one arm’? She questions whether a woman’s worth is judged by her housekeeping, and maybe she would rather lead an adventurous life.

Unfortunately, her adventures do not lead to happiness. The novel is set in Barbados on a beach straight from the brochures of paradise. White folk live in tall, gated houses, while violence, prostitution, drug smuggling, murder and other criminal activities exist beyond their gardens, and everyone carries a gun. The police turn a blind eye to the abuse (particularly of women) until it enters those houses of those who go to embassies and ruin the tourist trade.

The community is steeped in intergenerational violence and abuse. Mothers beat their children because they do not want them to go bad and need to whip the devil out of them; they fear that sparing the rod is the cause of the child’s failings. Lala marries Adan, who regularly beats and rapes her, even while she is recovering from a traumatic birth. He commits robberies to pay for his lifestyle, which escalate to drug smuggling and murder in a sort of subplot to the novel. His cruelty leads to a tug of war with their newborn (known only as Baby because they have not yet decided on a name), which results in the death of the child as she is dropped on the floor.

Girls are routinely raped by their male relatives: Lala is the child of her mother, Esme, and her grandfather, Carter. The young women are sent away to remove the temptation, while the man is not considered to be at fault. Lala is made to sleep in the outhouse to avoid her grandfather’s attentions, or how else can he resist? Women are pursued by men. The policeman who investigates the Baby’s death pursues Sheba and refuses to accept that she doesn’t want his protection; Adan fixates on his ‘outside woman’ despite being married to Lala.

"A grown man cannot help himself, she explains, in the presence of a young Wilkinson girl. This is the way it has been for generations. It is not the man’s fault, says Wilma, there is nothing he can do about it. It was this way with her mother before her, her daughter and granddaughter after her. It was this way with her."

In some ways, the novel, full of descriptive scenes and local patois, is reminiscent of those by Alice Walker, Toni Morrison or Alan Duff. Characters struggle to connect with community and lash out at those who seek to reinforce their culture without understanding the roots of reggae or Rasta, merely turning gangsta. When Wilma holds a funeral for Baby, Adan does not attend because he is wary of her connection to culture, although he tells his friends that she is a bitch and “he not going anywhere around her or her house.” He is alone and left behind in the world where he has lost his local bonds.

Even Lala is infused in her beliefs, although they may not support her – her grief, trauma and post-partum depression are explained in superstition. “She is convinced also that supernatural beings are conspiring on her daughter’s behalf to make her understand that she will pay for her part in her death.” She fears a “wicked duppy” is playing tricks on her, putting cans of formula in the cupboard, although she knows she has thrown them all out, sprinkling the scent of baby powder in the house, and “It is this duppy, or another, equally malevolent, who infuses the peculiar sound the paper bag of flour makes when she is making dumplings and it hits the floor with the same sound she heard when Baby was dropped.”

Reviewers have called the book unflinching, claustrophobic, pitiless, and relentless. Focussing on murder, abuse, a violent marriage and the death of a baby, it is certainly no light-hearted tale, but there is a slight glimmer of hope towards the end, and it is ultimately compelling. It is exquisitely constructed, with flashbacks to flesh out the characters and the pathways that have led them to this Barbadian beach, and it is a great achievement for a debut novel.

Friday Five: Ides of March

La Morte di Cesare (1805) by Vincenzo Camuccini

Well, today's the day that all self-elected senators should probably avoid temple steps, just in case all their so-called mates gang up on them and stab them in the back. Or so says Shakespeare, anyway. The soothsayer tells Julius Caesar on more than one occasion to beware the ides of March, but does he listen? No, he does not. And the rest, as they say, is history.

As with many people educated through the British school system in the 70s and 80s, I learned much of my history through Shakespeare plays. It was a great grounding for understanding the true definition of fake news, which allowed me to filter out a lot of the nonsense promulgated by white men talking about subjects they didn't really understand, but who had a following because they wrote a good speech, or got ghost writers to do it for them. In keeping with that theme, here are five Shakespeare quotes that relate to calendar dates.

1. "Beware the Ides of March", The Tragedy of Julius Caesar, Act I, scene ii (15 March)
2. ''And gentlemen in England now a-bed/ Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,/ And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks/ That fought with us upon Saint Cripin's day."- Henry V, Act IV, scene iii (25 October)
3. "Good morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past: Begin these wood-birds but to couple now?" - A Midsummer Night Dream, Act IV, scene ii (14 February)
4. "On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there,/ Young Harry Percy and brave Archibald,/ That ever-valiant and approved Scot,/ At Holmedon met,/ Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour." - Henry IV, Part One, Act I, scene i (14 September)
5. Twelfth Night - Yep, the whole play. (5 January)

IWD Autumn Haiku

Like fruit, you say I 

bruise too easily, but you 

make me fall so hard.