All the received wisdoms and shibboleths of contemporary politics and economics, which have (among much else) lifted Donald Trump to his present bad eminence and left parliaments in many lands beset by extreme right-wing parties and ideologues, need reviewing in a fresh light.
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 […]
Capitalism and the destruction of the sacred
Barry Hill and John Wolseley listen to the stories birds tell about the earth
Nonie Sharp Ways of thinking and writing about nature are changing with our relationship to it