Tag Archives: Mona

Gallery Gallivanting: Part Two

I mentioned in my last post how much I was looking forward to another trip to Mona in Tassie. This one differed from the many previous visits because I have been given the absolute pleasure of placing a little bit of myself into the famous gallery. First, some background . . .  

I love most of the exhibits at Mona but there is one that literally takes my breath away. It is as though I see it anew each time I visit. The first time I entered the room, I cried into the white silence.  And now, all these years later, it sits at the periphery of my brain whenever I write. Or do I sit at its periphery? It means so many things to me. Here is a picture of Wilfredo Prieto’s “Untitled” (White Library) for you to feast on but you will not fully appreciate it until you stand amidst the whiteness yourself.

White Library

Image: Untitled (White Library), 2004 to 2006, Wilfredo Prieto (Photo credit: MONA/Rémi Chauvin.)

Back to me and the gallery. I was given the opportunity to write for the O Minor. (An explanation for those who have never been to Mona [what is wrong with you?]: The O is the device available at Mona which replaces traditional museum wall text. What I love about the O is that it seems to invite the viewer to respond to the art viscerally first before branching out for perspective.) My piece for the juniors (O Minor) reflects and ruminates on the ways in which we can write (and perhaps rewrite) personal life stories. I also wrote a piece aimed more at adult consumption but both are equally relevant regardless of age. I do hope you get the chance to listen to and read my slant but, more importantly, that you will have the opportunity to revel in the white library space and allow it to permeate your brain.

 Speaking of brains, be sure to check out musician Ben Salter’s piece for juniors in response to Gregory Barsamian’s mesmerising strobing brain. Barsamian’s phrenological “Artifact” is among my favourites (although my brain can experience conniptions in response to it so I have to limit my viewing).  

Pinky Beecroft (yes, the Machine Gun Fellatio guy) has  given a wonderful insight into Jannis Kounellis’s challenging exhibit of goldfish swimming around a kitchen blade in an enamel bowl.   Pinky also wrote [fabulously] for Erwin Wurm’s “Fat Car”.

I think the Junior O is an important addition to the viewing experience and I hope it encourages more visits by, and art conversations with, youngsters.

Time was not on my side for this visit (and there was all that fine Moorilla Pinot to drink) so I missed revisiting some of my other favourite works. In particular, I was looking forward to Patrick Hall’s “When my Heart Stops Beating” which sometimes makes me smile (or even laugh) and sometimes makes me weep. I imagine myself visiting Hall’s installation alone with hours to spend opening drawers and slowly savouring the words of Love. Then I would return to the room of white books to write for days on end with no sleep and a servant to bring me cheese and wine . . . but enough of my fantasies.

I hope to be back at Mona sooner rather than later. In the meantime, my work-in-progress has not progressed of its own accord so I will chain myself to the keyboard but my brain will be nestled into a corner of the untitled white library as I write.

 

 

 

 

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Thank You Tasmania

Oh, Tasmania, how wonderful you were, even turning on perfect weather for me. Here’s a brief wrap-up of my very own ‘Ten Days on the Island’ (for those who don’t know, there is a biennial festival with this name – details here).

The launch at Fullers Bookshop was fabulous with a Q&A hosted by Katherine Johnson, the very talented Tasmanian-based author of Pescador’s Wake and The Better Son. We had a good turnout, the atmosphere was relaxed and Katherine led me through chats ranging from research, to shades of Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird, and on to bushfires and literary agents. I was somewhat rushed beforehand and forgot to organise pics but raced back the next morning for a shot of me and my ‘baby’ in the New and Noteworthy section.

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I got to visit the wonderful Hobart Twilight Markets where copies of my book were available through Satinwood. It was lovely to see the Flame Tip cover nestled in amongst the beautiful leather goods.

I had a great time chatting to locals and visitors as I sat outside The Hobart Bookshop signing books at the same table used by both Julia Gillard and Bob Brown.

The workshops at various libraries proved popular and I enjoyed talking about the writing process and meeting some excellent writers who blew me away with their imagination and creativity. Thanks to the staff of Huon, Hobart, Rosny and Kingston for making me welcome.

Huon Linc

Petrarch’s in Launceston . . .  oh, what can I say?! Absolutely beautiful shop. Wonderful management and staff. It was well worth the trip up to the north of the State.

Petrachs

On the way back to Hobart, called in to take a ‘shelfie’ at The Book Cellars in Campbell Town.

Cellars

A couple of other fun pics – with Katherine Johnson at the divine State Cinema Bookstore and one of me looking pretty chuffed signing some copies at Mona.

better son        Mona with books

I regret that I didn’t think to take a shot of me with some of the staff members of the Tasmanian Writers Centre  who were so welcoming when I turned up (unannounced!)  to their offices inside the beautiful historic building that is the Salamanca Arts Centre. Never mind, I’m hoping (x) to be there again in September (watch this space!).

I was also lucky enough to get a follow-up gig with Melanie Tait on her ABC local radio show Evenings. What a beautiful, talented professional she is. You can listen to the audio here.

Thanks again to everyone for making it such a pleasurable trip. I can hardly wait to get back there.

 

 

 

 

 

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MONA by Dan Sehlberg: Book Review

Dan Sehlberg’s Mona is the first book of a two-part thriller, its sequel Sinon being due for release this year.

mona

The plot is breathtaking in its frightening possibility:

Eric is a computer science professor who invents a thought-controlled system for browsing the web and, while some readers might think this is merely imaginative sci-fi, the truth is it is far too close to reality for comfort. Eric’s system collides with Professor Samir Mustaf’s newly-created computer virus with catastrophic results and it is just a matter of time before the lives of Eric and Samir become entwined.

When Eric’s wife Hannah becomes infected with a mystery virus, Eric is convinced that his browsing system has somehow become involved in passing the latest sophisticated computer virus on to her.  No-one believes him so he embarks on his own quest to find answers and to save his wife who has drifted into a coma.  In the process, Eric has to deal with Mossad, Hezbollah and the FBI nipping at his heels.

The intrigue and espionage extend to a Palestinian spy in the highest levels of the Israeli government and a ruthless Mossad assassin – Rachel Papo – who, despite being psychopathic in intent, finds some softness in her heart when it counts most.

There are a number of extremely contrived plot devices and, while it is difficult to settle into an easy belief and relax into the ride, accepting the coincidences that help us on our journey, it is not so difficult to accept the credibility of the fantastic results of the meeting of the virus with the thought-control program.

There’s something of the fairy-tale twist in the denouement that is unfortunately rare in real life, particularly when we are dealing with the volatility of the middle-east. If only these two men from opposite sides of the ideological, philosophical and religious spectrum could so easily bury their differences. If only two men could alter such catastrophic events. If only life were so simple.

The Style

I didn’t find much in the way of Literary style in Sehlberg’s prose but I know little about the translation process and, as I cannot read the novel in its original, there is no way for me to tell how much of the style is completely Sehlberg’s and what – if any – is as a result of the translation. The translator Rachel Willson-Broyles, was lauded for the exceptional job she did with Jonas Hassen Khemeri’s 2011 novel Montecore.

Word choices and sentence structures are sometime jarring.

‘Parents – exclusively women – were standing nearby or sitting on benches, and talking to each other on phones.’ (320) Wouldn’t those ‘parents – exclusively women’ be ‘mothers’? Or ‘women’?

‘Jens hugged him as heartily and roughly as always.  His rough beard scratched Eric’s cheek.’ (40). Most editors would have marked ‘roughly’ and ‘rough’ for a rethink. ‘Eric returned to his car, which had received a parking ticket. He left it where it was and backed out of the parking area.’ (162) Clunky and uninspired.

Occasionally, a gem of a sentence emerges. For example, ‘She was Jewish, with all of Europe running through her veins’ (25-26), imparts the information in a less pedestrian form than elsewhere throughout the book. And this: ‘But when he woke, reality waited restlessly for him with sharp claws and a wide sneer.’ (129). For the most part, though, I found the prose style to be a little dull.

Still, you don’t need Literary style to make a Hollywood movie and that’s where Mona is headed. There’s quite a buzz around Swedish story-telling lately but let’s be clear; Sehlberg is no Stieg Larsson and Mona is a far cry from The Girl with a Dragon Tattoo. Nevertheless, Mona is a page-turner and it comes as no surprise to me that, according to The Hollywood Reporter, ‘New Regency’ has picked up the movie rights.  I can definitely imagine a good Hollywood thriller in a Matt Damon or Mark Wahlberg kind of way and, if Angelina Jolie would take on a less starring role, she’d glint like sharpened steel as the ruthless Rachel Papo. This is likely to be one of those rare cross-overs where the movie will upstage the book.

Throughout the story, I often found myself thinking back to the prologue, in which a little girl in Lebanon brings a tin can home to her mother and grandmother.  She’d found the can while chasing a striped cat through a muddy field.  In that creative way of children, she has imagined the cat as a tiger and the can as its cub.

[she] saw her mother’s tears.  She looked nervously at her grandmother, and heard her prayers.  Then she extended the hand with the tiger cub.  That wasn’t a tiger cub.  That was a can. That wasn’t a can.  That was a grenade from an Israeli cluster bomb. (2)

Such imagery is so close to the reality for many families in the Middle East today, on both sides of the fence. It is gut-wrenching.

Thanks to ANZ Litlovers (cross-posted) for the reviewing opportunity.

BOOK DETAIL:
Sehlberg, Dan. Mona. Lind & Co, Sweden, 2013
Translated by Rachel Willson-Broyles, Scribe Publications, Brunswick, Aust. 2014.
ISBN 9 781922 070975

 

 

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