Farewell to an old friend–Rest In Peace Maureen

When casting my eye over the Tributes page in The Age today, I was shocked to discover a familiar name listed, and ascertained from the names of the attributers that it was indeed my old and dear friend Maureen.

I post haste rang the persons who had placed the tribute to find out what had happened. Maureen had died last Friday morning of lung cancer, after being diagnosed with the condition in February this year.

This is a real shock as I had no inkling that she was ill. In fact the last time I saw her in early January  she was bragging about how well she felt.  And even though she always appeared cadaverous –tall,  pale and thin – she mostly had enjoyed the best of health and was a vegetarian by choice. She would have turned 62 on the 20th May.

I have known Maureen for over 40 years, first meeting her when she moved into the Parkville mansion, Mt Ievers, where I was living in the late 1960s/early 1970s . When Mt Ievers was sold to developers Maureen and I shared a house in Carlton for several years, and also both worked at Space Age Books in the 1970s.  We remained good friends through all the decades since, though didn’t see each other much, until fairly recently where we went on several outings to galleries. I hadn’t seen her since our trip to Bendigo for the Modern Love Exhibition in January, so I now bitterly regret that I had not got in touch with her over the last few months.

Maureen was fiercely independent so it would not be like to her to ring and complain about her health. She had long been looking for a job, so I assumed that she had got one and was too busy to make contact.

As I have no photos of her, I have used an Erte image to illustrate this post, as Erte’s fashion illustrations will always remind me of Maureen. She always dressed very stylishly, in beautifully designed clothes, mostly black in colour. Being tall and thin, she had a rare elegance and with her upright carriage and striking looks you could always pick her out from the crowd.

Both her parents died when she was quite young, so when I met her she was an orphan, though she is survived by her elder brother and sister.

I have many fond memories of Maureen and many amusing stories of her idiosyncrasies.

When she was in her teens Maureen had been an artist’s model, and had been painted by notable artists. She had a story about one such painting which hung on the wall in an office at La Trobe University. She was attending an interview with a tutor perhaps, who remarked when he saw her that she looked familiar. Maureen realised that the painting behind him was one of her, which explained his sense of familiarity, but didn’t let him into the secret.

She was a caring person who worked for many years providing employment advice to disadvantaged youth. I don’t think she had a cynical bone in her body and approached the world in an open hearted, perhaps somewhat naive manner.

She never married nor had children, but she owned a little terrace house in Brunswick and had lived there many years by herself by choice. She was secretive about her personal life so I don’t know if she had any special friends or lovers.  As I said before she was very independent and never asked anything of other people, and was unquestionably honest and upright in her dealings.

Highly intelligent and pure living (cigarettes were her only vice) Maureen was a smart, beautiful, elegant and charmingly eccentric person – an unique and original individual who will be grievously missed by all who knew her.

Rest in peace Maureen. I’m sorry I never got the chance to say good bye, but you’ll always live in my memory as one of this old sinner’s dearest friends and I’ll be sad when I look at the unusual presents you’ve given me over the years, as they’ll represent a little piece of Maureen for me.

Welcome 2014 – Looking To The Future

It’s not yet a week into the New Year, but I’m thinking that 2014 could be a good one.

One of the reasons why I am feeling particularly optimistic is that two of my all time favourite writers will release new books this year.  New novels from David Mitchell and William Gibson are occasions for rejoicing in my opinion and very much worth the wait for their publication whenever that may be.

David Mitchell’s new novel is called The Bone Clocks and is described thus:

 ‘This  “rich and strange” novel will follow the story of Holly Sykes, who runs away from home in 1984 and 60 years later can be found in the far west of Ireland, raising a granddaughter as the world’s climate collapses.”

In between, Holly is encountered as a barmaid in a Swiss resort by an undergraduate sociopath in 1991; has a child with a foreign correspondent covering the Iraq War in 2003; and, widowed, becomes the confidante of a self-obsessed author of fading powers and reputation during the present decade. Holly’s life is repeatedly intersected by a slow-motion war between a cult of predatory soul-decanters and a band of vigilantes. Holly begins as an unwitting pawn in this war – but may prove to be its decisive weapon.

The publisher (Sceptre) said: “The arc of a life, a social seismograph, a fantasy of shadows and an inquiry into aging, mortality and survival, The Bone Clocks could only have been written by David Mitchell.”

Sounds good doesn’t it? But you’ll have to wait until early September to read it.

Over the past two mornings I have been watching on my iPad a long interview with William Gibson that was recorded at the New York Public Library in April 2013. I hadn’t  known about this interview until I noticed a reference to it on The Guardian Books Blog recently, where readers of the blog were asked what books they were looking forward to in 2014. As soon as I saw the recommendation for William Gibson’s new book, apparently titled The Peripheral, I followed the link and watched an excerpt of the interview where Gibson reads a few pages from the first chapter entitled The Gone Haptics.  I was so riveted by the excerpt that I felt compelled to watch the whole video. It is 1 hour 41 minutes long, but a really fascinating and revealing glimpse into the mind and methods of the acclaimed writer.

Rather than me describing it, there’s a good review of the interview on The Awl . However, it doesn’t mention some bits of the interview that I found really interesting.

William Gibson is an original prose stylist, his style being smart, dry and crisp with apt analogies. During the course of the interview, part of a track from Bruce Springsteen's Darkness on the Edge of Town is played. The ensuing conversation was a revelation for me and also one of those moments when you say to yourself “Of course!”  Gibson’s style is to literature what Springsteen’s lyrics are music.

PAUL HOLDENGRÄBER: Speaking of music, let’s listen to something.

(Bruce Springsteen, “Darkness on the Edge of Town”)

PAUL HOLDENGRÄBER: So you’ve said of this album that it had quite an important influence in some way, that’s Springsteen, and this album of Springsteen in particular. How so?

WILLIAM GIBSON: Around the same time I was looking—looking for an arena that I could write science fiction in, I was looking for voices that resonated for me that I had never encountered in my reading of science fiction and in that album I found that really abundantly. I mean, I would listen to that I think what I thought was, “Wow, what if there was a kind of science fiction in which this is the voice of the protagonist?”

Gibson goes on to say that “when I started trying to put my own science fiction together, it wasn’t as though these characters were springing fully formed from my brow, I couldn’t even figure out how to do characters, but Springsteen, who is a superb writer of fiction, a superb writer of fiction as a lyricist, and an absolute master of terse but intense characterization gave me, gave me that and, you know, I studied him very carefully, and Lou Reed as well..”

The above conversation was about William Gibson’s first novel Neuromancer wherein he is credited with coining the term “cyberspace” and is hailed as the Godfather of Cyberpunk. Gibson explains in the interview how he came up with the word cyberspace...

Dataspace didn’t work, and infospace didn’t work. Cyberspace. It sounded like it meant something, or it might mean something, but as I stared at it in red Sharpie on a yellow legal pad, my whole delight was that I knew that it meant absolutely nothing.

Anyway, if you’ve read William Gibson’s novels or not, I highly recommend watching the interview. William Gibson comes across as modest, humorous and quirky, and talks just like he writes.

Another book that I have been awaiting for over 8 years is a special edition of John Crowley’s wondrous novel Little, Big.

Yes, the Little, Big 25th Anniversary Edition, is by all accounts almost at the printing stage and will - cross fingers - be published this year.  I subscribed to this edition way back in February 2005 and have been waiting patiently over the ensuing time. I’m sure it will be worth it – a book of superlative beauty and highly collectable.

By a curious coincidence, I learned of this edition on the William Gibson message board back in 2003/04, where Ron Drummond who is the publisher Incunabula and also the editor of the new edition, mentioned it in passing on one of the active threads at the time.

So that’s three things I am anticipating in 2014. What other thrills await me?

For a start, I’m heading off with a friend to Bendigo this Wednesday on a day outing, ostensibly to see the Modern Love Exhibition at the Bendigo Art Gallery.  We’re utilising one of our Senior’s free travel vouchers, so it will be a bit of an adventure. I haven’t visited Bendigo for decades, if ever. And there is a Space Age Books connection. The Director of Bendigo Art Gallery is Karen Quinlan, whom my friend and I both knew when she and her sisters worked at Space Age in the 1970s/80s.

Gibson photo credit Michael O’Shea

Recollections of the Book Trade

The outing to the Melbourne Rare Book Fair, brought back fond memories of my years working in the book trade.

Although I ended my working life in the public service, I originally spent many years working in various bookshops, starting with Collins Book Depot in the May 1972.

 
Collins Book Depot – 115 Elizabeth Street, Melbourne

I was placed in charge of the children’s book section, which suited me fine. The bookshop was very popular with the Melbourne establishment. I remember that Barry Humphries was a regular customer at that time and was fawned over by management.

However, I was not what you would call a biddable employee in my early years of working, so drew the ire of management and was dismissed after about a year on the job. Despite my degree, I had no desire for a proper job, so went on unemployment benefits or the dole as it was, and is still, known.

Flash Memories

• The horrible Mr Mac, an elderly man (I believe he was about 90 years old) who had inherited his job for life. He was in charge of the till and guarded it like a fierce dog. To the customers he was a marvel, but to us junior staff he was an ogre.
• Mr Craven, the manager, who was bald, but mysteriously had a container of brylcream in his office. There was a rumour going around that he was having an affair with the lady manager of another branch of Collins and we speculated that the brylcream came into play in their relationship.

In those days when on the dole, you were obliged to rock up to the nearest employment office every week and be interviewed and see what jobs were on offer. The dole at that time was about $20.00 a week, but surprisingly you could survive on it, as the cost of living was cheap.

The Dole Office eventually sent me off to Halls Book Store in Chapel Street Prahran. 

Hall’s Book Store was cheese to the chalk of Collins Book Depot, and I had the privilege of working under noted bibliophile and book dealer, Jack Bradstreet. 

He was a wonderful person to work for and the section of Hall’s of which he had charge was a book-lover’s haven. It sold both new and second hand books – there were thousands of them, on shelves, in drawers and stacked on tables. Jack ran a searcher service for hard to find titles.  When one of the sought after books came in, we had to ring the requester and tell them the good news. Some were delighted and amazed, but others denied all knowledge of the order, as on some occasions they had placed the order years before and forgotten about it.

Whilst I was at Hall’s I did acquire a couple of what are now valuable books – a first edition of The Dalkey Archive by Flann O’Brien, an early edition of Frances Hodgson Burnett’s Secret Garden and a rare Jack Kerouac book, Visions of Gerard & Tristessa, all for a few dollars.

When Hall’s Book Store closed in 1975, Jack Bradstreet acquired the second hand book stock and set up his own shop in Hawthorn.  I used to see him quite often when he came into the city. He used to drop in at Space Age Books where I worked to say hello. He eventually sold his shop, Bradstreet Books, and it is still in the same business under the new owner. They had a stall at the Rare Book Fair.

Flash Memories

• There was an old derelict bag woman who would drop into the shop every so often and give Mr Bradstreet a present of mouldy vegetables, which he would graciously accept and thank her for, then chuck them in the bin.
• One hot day in summer, when we were all feeling the heat Mr Bradstreet suggested we all take it in turns go to the pub up the road and cool down with a few drinks.

I left Hall’s in December 1973 after being offered a job at Space Age Books, a bookstore I had been long wanting to work.  It turned out to be one of the best jobs I ever had. All ex employees of Space Age Books would agree that working for Space Age spoiled us for other employment.

*A very poor quality photo of Space Age Books – yours truly is pretending to be absorbed by a book on spectacular movies. The original photo was taken for an article in the **The Sun in 1975.

Space Age Books was one of the most interesting independent bookstores in Melbourne during the 1970s. It was started by Merv Binns in 1971 with the backing of millionaire Science Fiction enthusiast Ron Graeme and it was Melbourne’s (and Australia’s) first Science Fiction bookshop. It was situated in Swanston Street, across the road from the old Queen Victoria Hospital.

Naturally, with a name like Space Age Books its main trade was Science Fiction and Fantasy, most of it imported from the USA. It also had a large section on cinema and a good collection of counter cultural literature, whole earth stuff as well as books on astrology, tarot and such. Art books and posters (I still have a large collection of art posters I purchased from Space Age), were also on sale along with comics, contemporary fiction, records; in fact just about everything a discerning alternatively inclined citizen could desire.

The 1970s was a golden age in terms of fine book publishing. With my staff discount I built my personal library, which I have been displaying  on my other blog Eye Candy for Bibliophiles.  Yes, I know it is over a year since I last updated it, but I’m psyching myself up to putting new content on it soon.

It was great fun working at Space Age and unlike the Public Service I made some good friends whom I still see occasionally. We all felt like part of a family, in fact Merv’s dad, Ernie, was part of the scene too and used to give me fresh fish and yabbies that he and Merv had caught, and also dahlias. Ernie grew dahlias for show, so you can imagine the glory of a bunch of them. 

The bookshop patrons were a mixed bunch, ranging from the very eccentric to celebrity figures. Film critics Bill Collins and Ivan Hutchinson were regulars and very pleasant gentlemen to deal with.

Space Age closed in 1985, but I left voluntarily in 1976 or ‘77, then returned in 1979 and was made redundant in 1983 due to the shop suffering financial difficulties, but it was without animosity and I continued to purchase books there until it closed for good.

Flash Memories

• The first time I heard Bob Marley & The Wailers and reggae music, early in the morning whilst dusting the books.
• The excitement occasioned by the arrival of new books – boxes and boxes of them.
• The weirdo who used to come into shop dressed as Dracula.
• The Star Trekkies who met upstairs on Friday nights. 
• Attending the preview screening of Blade Runner and being blown away. It is still one of my all time favourite movies

I did work in two other bookstores after Space Age, briefly part time for a shop called Book Masters which had a small store in Little Bourke Street, and The Little Bookroom, after which, being tired of the incertitude of employment in the trade, I joined the Public Service and settled down to earning some long service allowances.

I never regretted not returning to the Book Trade, but I have mostly happy recollections of my time as a bookstore sales assistant.

* I discovered this photo on Technicolour Yawn. It is part of a larger image of a newspaper article, which I cropped.

**Sorry to disappoint you Ms O’Dyne. In the interests of accuracy I have ascertained that the article for which the photo was snapped, was published in The Sun, and not the Nation Review, in 1975. However it has some cachet, the article being written by Anti Football League founder Keith Dunstan.