Visiting Sydney is like a school reunion: the thrill of shared memories, the rediscovery of familiar places and the space to recall my young self – and the relief of returning home to my settled life in the bush capital.
Gulls fought over the scraps from tourists’ lunches, towers competed for sky while the bridge brooded over the sparkling harbour. The queues for Writers' Festival sessions stretched along the Walsh Bay wharves and people argued over the contentions pouring from the overhead speakers as they waited. The performance poets - or were they stand-up poets? – entertained us with comedy and psalmody. I listened hard to Kate Grenville, Amanda Curtin and Nava Semel as they discussed their fictive takes on history and people.
Nava Semel’s innovative blend of genres in her book And the Rat Laughed intrigued me. Narrative, blog, poetry, diary, testimony and legend are woven into a compelling account of a child’s holocaust survival story. Although it is a pseudo-autobiography/biography it confirmed that the genre of life narrative can stretch to accommodate a plethora of forms and points of view.
