AustLit

'It’s one of those circle of life kind of things, the antagonist Hopper says in Pixar’s A Bug’s Life, explaining how his gang of marauding grasshoppers exploit the ants with a dry cynicism that Luke Carman might appreciate. It wasn’t until I reached the final story in Carman’s collection An Ordinary Ecstasy that this phrase came to mind, as the structure of the book resolved itself into an Ouroboros: the snake biting its own tail that represents, well, the cycle of destruction and birth.' (Introduction)

'This article argues that despite the genre status of the Mad Max films as post-apocalyptic sf, the driving force behind many of the images and concerns of the films derives from aspects of Australian history since colonisation. The article compares the way these themes appear in the Mad Max films to the way they are explored in ‘Crabs’, a 1972 short story by Australian writer Peter Carey. This story was later filmed as Dead End Drive-In, a film which itself draws on the aesthetic already developed through the Mad Max films. I use Freud’s theory of repetition compulsion to explore ways in which history is both remembered and deliberately forgotten through imagery that is dislocated from the past to the ‘future’ and thus in effect to a timeless, ever-present or ever-recurring time. The article also argues that Foucault’s concept of heterotopia (a space that is populated by a selected, heterogenerous group such inmates in a prison), describes the reality of the penal colonies forming the origins of settler Australia. The colony’s status as heterotopia has led to a pervasive sense of the ‘irreality’ of Australia for many non-Indigenous Australians, expressed through numerous artworks: a sense that there is no ‘there’ out there, nowhere to run.' (Publication abstract)

'Why the TV adaptation of Liane Moriarty’s novel is not trashy soap but compelling drama.'

'The pressure of my blood, the beat of my heart, is a message to you. You read each second of my body's life. But watching goes both ways. You watch us: for control, for power, for pleasure. We watch you: for survival, for fear, for love.

'It is the present day. The foggy northern city of Port Angelsund, gateway to the last great fossil fuel reserves beneath the Arctic Ocean, is under occupation by the soldiers of Garrison. Sylvie is a young woman just trying to survive. She works in a harbourside café with her mother and little brother, and fears for her older brother, Jory, who fled when the enemy invaded.

'When Sylvie is singled out for punishment at a Garrison checkpoint, a young lieutenant rescues her from torture. Though she knows the terrible risks of collaboration, she cannot stop herself from falling in love. Watched closely by Garrison’s vast machinery of surveillance, Sylvie now discovers she is also under the protective and suspicious gaze of her lover.

'Brooding over the rim of the world, Coalition pledges to free Port Angelsund: storm is coming, they say, we are on our way. When Jory returns on a terrorist mission that will throw the city into chaos, Sylvie’s loyalties are tested beyond breaking point. Her deep bond with her brother and her illicit passion for her Garrison officer are loves that cannot coexist. Whatever she does is betrayal.

'In the spirit of Hiroshima Mon Amour and Suite Francaise, this sensual and heart-breaking novel brings the classic conflicts of war and occupation, devotion and treachery, up to the present minute. While the unimaginable power of modern warfare advances, Watch Over Me reminds us that the things at stake—survival, refuge and love—remain the things worth fighting for.'

'Z is blindsided when he learns that he has been “bought” by the highest ranked official of a dangerous government agency, who took advantage of a sinister new law. Now Z must indulge her every whim and request. Will he ever find a way out of her grip? Claire Corbett’s convincing characters and intriguing narrative gives an insight into an alternative reality that is scarily convincing. It will keep you guessing to the very last page.'

Source: Publisher's blurb.

'Claire Corbett offers a richly personal account of working as second assistant editor on The Piano. Her story unfolds both as a look behind the scenes at the unfamiliar world of the feature film cutting room, the technical processes and work practices, and also the rigid structures at play in the hierarchy of a film crew. Her paper reveals much about the nature of lower echelons of film work, as well as film lore -- well unerstood by crew members but rarely made explicit.' (p.xiii)