Island 161

My first encounter with an Australian poem, after arriving in Tasmania as an overseas immigrant teenager, was Gwen Harwood’s ‘Barn Owl’ (the devastating but beautiful first part of ‘Father and Child’). I have never forgotten it. Gwen Harwood, who would have turned 100 in 2020, remains Tasmania’s most recognised poet. It has been a pleasure to be able to run the Gwen Harwood Poetry Prize competition in 2020/21, and we thank the Cultural Fund of the Copyright Agency and The Hobart Bookshop for sponsoring the prize. Enjoy the five fine poems in this issue, selected by Island's poetry editor Lisa Gorton, Lachlan Brown and Bella Li from more than 300 submitted for judging. Another very special inclusion in this issue is ‘If These Halls Could Talk’ – a set of 10 creative responses to place and community in collaboration with Tasmania’s Ten Days on the Island festival. We hope you enjoy this virtual literary trip around the island along with stories, essays, poems and art from many remarkable Australian creatives.

— Vern Field, Managing Editor

Even brief periods of certainty can be heartening; they have to be, because brief periods are all we ever have. But a year of definite funding is encouraging. It makes for more issues of a magazine that celebrates Australian literature – and, to put it more personally – puts another pile of short stories that I love into print. The distinct, original pieces here by AlexanderBennetts, Elena Macdonald, Bernard Cohen, Rebecca Slater and Craig Billingham may not have found homes elsewhere, not for any want of quality, but because there are so few venues for contemporary Australian short fiction. They are a powerful argument for valuing the short story form, and doing all that we can to maintain and broaden the variety of publications where readers can find and enjoy them.

 — Ben Walter, Fiction Editor

 There was no set theme for this issue, but one manifested regardless in the nonfiction submissions. After a year of learning to cope with uncertainty, unrest and grief, many of the pieces we received held a common focus: finding meaning. And while it could have been a morbid read through existentialism, so many of the stories gave me cause to reflect on how we love, grieve and what it means to be apart. Ryan Gustafsson explores familial recognition and understanding. Rachel Robertson reflects on farewell through objects. Anna Chen wraps her scientific expertise around the loss of her mother. And Haydn Spurrell takes us through the perilous climate impact of mourning. I hope you experience the same joyous sadness I did as you read these pieces.

 — Anna Spargo-Ryan, Nonfiction Editor

 Recently, a question was posed on a podcast I was listening to – what do you think has made the difference [in COVID impact] between the United States and Japan? The respondent answered quickly and resolutely, “Well it’s a matter of the difference in focus between ‘I’ and ‘we’”. The arts features in this issue have a focus on the ‘we’, be that among humans or all living things. Anna Sublet takes us into the experience of participating in a large-scale community dance work. Simulcast happened prior to COVID and, as you’ll see from the photographs, played out well within our now familiar 1.5 metres of safety. A proximity we miss. Nadege Philippe-Janon speaks about the genesis of her work Forest Specular, a new public artwork on Tasmania’s Western Wilds route, its 1300 convex, mirrored discs representing the 1300 civilian arrests it took to save the Franklin River from being dammed.And Nicola Gower Wallis simply takes us into a lush world where all of the ‘we’ – the plant, the animal and the human –joyfully come together.

 — Judith Abell, Arts Features Editor