VIRGINIA BERNARDA ValedictionWhen Nan diedThe daughters carne and carefully dismantledA life's accumulation.They brewed a potAnd frowning over steaming china cupsDecided who'd have what.Ironically, the sheet was taken offThe velvet couch, as blue as the day it arrived.They peeled the linen from her bedWhich had carried her single through half a life.They put them in boxes that went, I supposeTo those poorer than the dead.Her pots, pans, wooden spoonsWith which she'd baked two generations' Christmas puddings(we'd hungrily mined for five cent pieces),What happened to those thingsThose tools of Nan's twilight years?Breathing only sometimesThey said, "Kiss her goodbye."And I hope she didn't hear or mindWhen I said, "I can't."18WESTERLY, No.2, JUNE, 1989
AMANDA GOMEIn Pursuit of Anin"Do you know where you can buy ..." The huddle of girls behind the counter fallstrangely silent, their brilliant, white mouths disappearing into the indifferent huesof brown skin and black night."... milkfish!" The aggression in my voice embarrasses me. "You know milk fish.It's on every bloody tourist brochure in the Philippines."I stop. I'd foreseen this. Yet it's my own ill humour that really annoys me. That'sall they can hear; the emotion in my voice."Anin!" I call sharply. She is a few shop fronts behind drifting in that vague wayof hers. I watch her tum. She is puzzled by my tone but used to it. She floats backand stepping up to the counter, peers at the hunks of chop suey. They are as deadand dry as a still life."Aha." She stares slowly around. "Milkfish ..." She grins broadly at what sheis about to do. "This shape." Her hands are swimming through the air. The stupefiedgirls break into laughter and reform."Over there Missi!" They drive us across the road with their cries when Aninmight already have forgotten.Milkfish. Were we going to reenact the drama here too? It annoyed me, my owninability to communicate. In my own country I was considered eloquent, articulate.Yet here in Manila, even within the arms of my own language, I was renderedspeechless by the stiffness of my body ... its refusal to relax into the shapes thatsignal ease, friendship ... trust.I tum to thank them. They are laughing at me. I quell a rise of panic. Laughingat what? Probably the wasp-waist woollen pants, black, matadorian, a statementof fashion I belligerently wore from Tokyo. Here they are shapeless, expressionlessamongst the exclamations of pert rounded bottoms ... blue jeaned. Maybe theyare sneering at Anin's broad Australian bottom. Can they tell her hair is dyed?I spin back ... but their smiles contain no hint of malice. Maybe they're not aimedat me. Maybe they are as deceptive as a Japanese bow ... automatic, arresting,only waiting a return. I begin to weave my way slowly through the streets, alwayskeeping Anin in sight, thinking deeply. Shouldn't they hate us - Westerners? We,who for hundreds of years have trampled their soil and spat at their speech? We,with our pockets full of silver and our extra dollops of fat? Now and again I passa sign scrawled across the wall. "OUT U.S. BASES." What does this mean? IS ita beginning or a tired habit? Because it's here in the back streets that the Westernculture parades. It pulsates through the music, is fried in the food: it flavours theair.No. Not these people. Not the people of the streets anyway. They don't blameus. They almost see us as saviours. I wave at them."You come tomorrow. We wait for you."WESTERLY, No.2, JUNE, 1989 19
- Page 3 and 4: CONTENTSWESTERLYVOLUME 34, No.2, JU
- Page 5: WESTERLYa quarterly reviewISSN 0043
- Page 8 and 9: JAN KEMPTo My Father, M.H.K.My fath
- Page 10 and 11: JAN KEMPThe GypsySuddenly before yo
- Page 12 and 13: WONG PHUI NAMA Death in the WardThe
- Page 14 and 15: WONG PHUI NAMCousinI had to call to
- Page 16 and 17: WONG PHUI NAMObitIt is as thin smok
- Page 18 and 19: So thus I lie here fearful of movem
- Page 22 and 23: "Yeah, yeah," I call, returning the
- Page 24 and 25: she flops for a bit, slurps her tea
- Page 26 and 27: well her students did, she was neve
- Page 28 and 29: English or Indian, that they had th
- Page 30 and 31: ANDREW TAYLORSpringSpring is a dive
- Page 32 and 33: CAROL SElTZERAiming for the MouthTr
- Page 34 and 35: GRAEME WILSONA Selection of Japanes
- Page 36 and 37: a highly ambivalent attitude to his
- Page 38 and 39: Esson attended some rehearsals of T
- Page 40 and 41: the literary life of Bloomsbury. Lo
- Page 42 and 43: Without Yeats Esson would quite lik
- Page 44 and 45: "What theatre do you have in Austra
- Page 46 and 47: In the back room Esson could feel t
- Page 48 and 49: "When we started our little theatre
- Page 50 and 51: a screen against a wall. A theatre
- Page 52 and 53: VINCENT O'SULLIVANSinging Mastery:
- Page 54 and 55: flighty relation in most statements
- Page 56 and 57: living and the dead; that places hi
- Page 58 and 59: quite diverse traditions towards th
- Page 60 and 61: WARRICK WYNNEThe Wetlands (for Liam
- Page 62 and 63: JAN OWENSmileOur mother aimed the b
- Page 64 and 65: RICHARD KELLY TIPPINGOlympic Airway
- Page 66 and 67: DAVID REITERBear by the Jasper Road
- Page 68 and 69: (At twenty eight you did not bother
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left, would have risen and walked o
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He had hair like mine used to be, t
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OLIVE PELLThe QuestionTell me how t
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BRIAN MOONANAT 515: MASS LECTURE Th
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PETER KIRKPATRICKTear HereThe bay i
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JOHN WINTERThe Bird ManIn wooded, p
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KNUTE SKINNERAugust 15There's a lig
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M.E. PATTI WALKERThe Hook"Aren't yo
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QMNQMNQMNQMNapartheid man, this is
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QMNQMNQMNeasy because you don't bel
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lands or which have been taken over
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GEOFF GOODFELLOWToo MuchDianne is 1
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SHANE McCAULEYSouth Fremantle, Summ
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JEAN KENTWaiting Out the DroughtWai
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STEPHEN MAGEEJesus Falls, South Aus
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SIMON BROWNBlue Hole, Santothe colo
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CONAL FITZPATRICKA Brown Dog, Off A
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PAUL HETHERINGTONOne RoomIn teeming
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society, or, in the terms of the my
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emphasised (I think) in the referen
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Summer Leaves". This continues the
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Deficiency Bill in Western Australi
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invocation of pastoral near the beg
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particularly dreaded). The final re
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VINCENT O'SULLIVAN - is one of New
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