This is about Les Murray as I knew him. It is not an encomium but a story about how I came to know him—if you can ever know someone like him. Stephen Edgar, in a poem entitled ‘The Grand Hotel’—an analogy or disguise for Les’s mind—writes: Apart from that, though, I recall Something you said […]
A devastating combination: agribusiness, political bastardry and complacency. In my thirty years' experience of country life and the hospitality business, I have met many National Party representatives. I remember receiving a visit by the Anthony clan soon after a very exciting review of my restaurant in The Age back in 1995. They were charming people, and happy that a country boy (at the time!) was successful in a semi-remote location. The member for Farrah, across…
