Biography

This book is a bird of most curious kidney. For the life of me I can’t see any raison d'etre for it. Not that James McAuley, with his wardrobe of fascinating hats, doesn’t cry out for a book, and not that Peter Coleman doesn’t have so many of the qualifications to write that book. But this work is not it. It’s thin, to the point of emaciation. It appears exactly four years after McAuley’s death, which, as literary biographies go, is but a day. Which puts me in mind of an Entebbe Raid or Teheran Hostages book, hitting the market while the event is still fresh. But McAuley’s career, for all its interest, lacks that brand of newsworthiness. And a book with so comprehensive a title as The Heart of James McAuley: Life and Work of the Australian Poet presumably aims to be more than a piece of ephemera.

The daughter of a prosperous-enough middle-class farming family in Devon, Elizabeth Veale received an upbringing and an education that stood her in good stead during her long existence in New South Wales as Mrs. John Macarthur.

Hamish McDonald has provided us with the first biography of President Suharto since O.G. Roeder’s authorized work which appeared in 1969. It is not only much more critical, but more comprehensive, and, as much of this second book deals with the events of the last few years, it can be said to be about a different Indonesia and a different President Suharto.

Sir Samuel Griffith was chief justice of the High Court of Australia for sixteen years, from October 1903 to October 1919; but he had effectively retired in July 1919. Sir John Latham was chief justice for sixteen and a half years, from October 1935 to April 1952; but he had effectively retired in May 1951. Thus, Sir Garfield Barwick, who last month completed his sixteenth year as chief justice, has already established a record for active service in the position; if he remains in office until 24 October this year, he will have broken even Lathams formal record.

The holder of such a record term of office as chief justice would, on that ground alone, be assured of a unique place in Australian legal history; but in Barwick’s case, the years as chief justice are only a climax – perhaps even an anti-climax – to an extraordinary career.

Normally, Australia’s Writers could be expected to attract the special attention of critics. However, by sensible use of his preface and the quality of his book’s contents, Graeme Kinross Smith has minimised the possibility of adverse comment. Carefully, he sets out the guidelines adopted for the fifty­four essays that range from two to ten pages each, starting with Captain Arthur Phillip and closing with Rosemary Dobson. Stressing ‘the distinctive and fascinating’ tradition of Australian literature and the book’s purpose in giving an insight into that tradition, Graeme Kinross Smith writes:

I don’t quite know what to make of J.G. Steele’s dull, parochial catalogue of sketches and watercolours by Conrad Martens. The ‘frontier travels’ of one of our better colonial artists should, you expect, make interesting copy – especially when the artist in question happened to be prolific and the area of his travels the sparsely settled pastoral area of what is now South-eastern Queensland.

‘Memory as slippery as a melon seed.’

So wrote Frank Dalby Davison in a letter to his mother in 1945. And memory in its trickiest forms is before the reader’s mind throughout Owen Webster’s semi-, demi­biography of Davison -·’semi’ because, though Webster described this book as a ‘non-fiction novel’ it relies so heavily on Davison’s fiction for ‘facts’ that one might better call it ‘fictional biography’: ‘demi’ because it deals only with the first thirty years of Davison’s life (and with his forbears). Webster. a most assiduous collector of material, had planned a second volume (predictably with the provisional title of The Inward Journey). but died in 1975 before completing his work.

This account of the life and dancing times of the ballerina from Newcastle coincides, or almost, with her appointment as Artistic Director of the Australian Ballet. She follows Dame Peggy van Praagh, Sir Robert Helpmann and Ann Woolliams in that position and will no doubt find herself (as they did) adapting, confronting, persuading and opposing the administration and the board.