Island 164
It’s a joy to bring you the winning poems in this year’s Gwen Harwood Poetry Prize. Congratulations to Stuart Barnes, John Foulcher and Andrew Sutherland – and many thanks to our judges (read what Kate Middleton Island Poetry Editor has to say about the prize-winning poems). In this issue, as well as our selection of excellent fiction, nonfiction and arts features, we also include two Tasmanian special features: nine poems from the ‘More Than Human Poetry Project’; and creative responses to Tasmania’s maritime history from the LUME residency. At the time of printing this issue, the news was of war in Ukraine, devastating floods in Queensland and New South Wales, and the ‘grave and mounting’ threat of climate change evident in the sixth report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. Against such a backdrop, Kristen Lang’s words introducing the ‘More Than Human Poetry Project’ resonate so powerfully: the poems ‘reflect a sincerity given, by these poets, amid an almost ungraspable pain – the conflict and loss that is the current and threatened future state of the planet. The parallel hope can be as difficult to hold on to, though it is certainly present.’
— Vern Field, Managing Editor
As a features editor, I love uncovering thematic ties between selections, particularly delicious, unplanned connections. This time there is no such thing. But, with Island there is always a link and this is about the nature of an archive. One of the ways I view each of my selections is as an arts artefact that should be tucked away in this incredible 43-year-old trove called Island magazine. So that when a person looks back, they can see what was happening, what was discussed, what was shifting minds at the time. Here are three more stories to be kept safe in this hold, each about a small ‘break through’, ‘break away’ or perhaps a practitioner (I’m thinking of Gay Hawkes here) who just never bothered to try to ‘break in’ at all, but resolutely tracked her own path irrespective of trend or fashion. I saw the show The Story Behind My Suitcase a few months ago, and it will rest for a long time in my own mind’s archive, as a kind of transfer of lived refugee experience. And the Crowther Reinterpreted project (in which I must acknowledge my ongoing project management involvement) is what I hope will be one of many, many small but productive rips in the colonial narrative about this place, with a different future showing through on the other side.
— Judith Abell, Arts Features Editor
Read what Kate has to say about this year’s Gwen Harwood Poetry Prize winning poems
— Kate Middleton, Poetry Editor
Every year, when fiction submissions open for Island, it feels a little overwhelming. This year we received more than 360 stories; for a couple of months it feels like I spend most of my time reading (and rereading) them. But it’s also an exciting time – with every submission there’s the possibility of reading something distinct and different, a story that creates its own compelling world. That’s certainly true with the pieces in this issue; there’s fabulous new writing from Eliza Henry-Jones, Kerry Jewell, Pauline Mornet, Mark O’Flynn and Andy McQuestin. I was thrilled when I read these pieces, and I hope you find the same enjoyment in them.
— Ben Walter, Fiction
As a nonfiction editor, I’m trusted with the most amazing opportunity to amplify issues, interrogations, questions and wonderings. The pieces in this issue do an enormous amount of heavy lifting. They are topical and timeless, speaking with impassioned voices to a world that continues to endanger and alienate so many. We spend a lot of time saying ‘it feels more important than ever’, but it once again feels more important than ever to use the artforms we have for action. In this issue, I’m privileged to publish some incredible work: Elina Abou Sleiman’s testimony for refugee rights at Kangaroo Point; Rachel Ang’s winding together of quantum physics, identity and politics; Lesh Karan’s exploration of meaning through language; Dani Netherclift’s poetry through family folklore; Judith Bishop’s interrogation of creativity, AI and the brain; and a love letter to Joan Didion from Magdalena Lane. To my mind, it’s a selection that hums with The State of Things: unrest, distress, uncertainty and an urgency to find hope