Speakeasy on campus 11.11.11

It was another sunny afternoon when the doors of the Flinders Uni Function Centre were once again thrown open to the ever-eager Speakeasy crowd. Now in its third year, Speakeasy has grown in leaps and bounds to become somewhat of a creative writing institution for talented Flinders undergrads and honours students, as well as for the staff and post-grads who help ensure the events run smoothly. As the venue filled up with nervous readers and excited spectators, MC, Delana Carbone, got things off to a flying start.

Delana began by throwing open a question to the audience regarding collective nouns. What would a collective noun be for a group of writers? Considering so many were present at the event one might have expected a few more suggestions from the crowd, but Delana sorted it out for us anyway, deciding, quite rightly, that ‘a creation of writers’ might be most appropriate. ‘An anxiety of writers’ as well as ‘a paranoia of writers’ came pretty close runners-up.

With nods of approval from those present the delightful Delana then threw over to Mario Pilla who gave a hearty plug for the new Speakeasy Zine, available for the first time on the day. Then we truly got under way with what everyone had come for: the readings. There were a lot of new faces to the podium this time round, and some familiar ones too.

Piri Eddy kicked off proceedings with his hiphop stylings, lamenting the difficulties of domestic chores, while alerting us to the fact that he could quote just about every episode from the first ten series of The Simpsons. Next up was Sean Stockham, a new face to the stage, who drew the audience in with his sinister yet melancholy ‘Strangers’. Alice James read her fitting ‘The Library’, about a girl’s love for her mother’s collection of books, while Susie Nelson’s moving piece reflected on her memories of her grandmother.

Dominiek Neall rounded off the first set with her hilarious short story ‘Me and Pluto Down by the Milky Way’, about the often astronomical trails of friendship. After a quick break, in which the majority of copies of the new Speakeasy Zine were snapped up, Chris Williss grabbed the crowd’s attention once more with his imitations from 007 and Back to the Future in a ‘literary fiction story about a guy trying to write a literary fiction story.’

Scarlett Pinhorn-Veasey warned about the dangers of having parents who unwittingly leave you stranded behind at petrol stations, while Kenneth Nixon taught us about the joys of life through touch in his story ‘Tactile Living’.

Caysey Sloan then stepped up to read a section from her project for NaNoWrMo - that arduous challenge to write a novel in a month - and Peter Beaglehole finished off the second set with a piece reflecting on those awkward moments in conversations we’ve all experienced, as well as doing a fairly convincing impression of yelling at dogs, which was so loud that it snapped this reviewer bolt upright in her chair.

The final set started with Samuel Williams, who read a series of ninety-nine word stories dealing with a range of topics from snake tattoos to footy crowds and violinists, as well as the things that can happen on the way to find Harry Potter. Miranda Richardson delighted with a tale of talking fox spirits, asserting that if you make people promise you things they’ll be yours forever.

Luke Bartholomew bemoaned the curse of too much luck, at least until love gets in the way, and Melanie Pryor’s wordsmithery of song lyrics and lone musings drew the audience into her ‘Melodies of the Midnight Hours.’

Mario Pilla capped off the readings with some thoughts about excretion and secretion, making some audience members concerned that he may have already ‘catharted’ on a few chairs in the venue.

After giving away some very impressive door prizes the proceedings came to an end, and a few drinks later we had wrapped up the last Speakeasy for 2011. But, never fear! Speakeasy will be back in early 2012, and hopefully we’ll be seeing all of the faces from this event again next time around.

Review by Alicia Carter
Alicia Carter has just finished her second year of a Bachelor of Arts at Flinders University, majoring in Creative Writing. She has also recently embarked on her journey as Assistant Director for Speakeasy.

Speakeasy on campus 11.11.11 - set 1

Piri Eddy

Sean Stockham

Alice James

Susie Nelson

Dominiek Neall

Speakeasy on campus 11.11.11 - set 2

Chris Williss

Scarlett Pinhorn-Veasey

Kenneth Nixon

Caysey Sloan

Peter Beaglehole

Speakeasy on campus 11.11.11 - set 3

Samuel Williams

Miranda Richardson

Luke Bartholomew

Melanie Pryor

Mario Pilla

'End of the Night Girl' a novel by Amy T. Matthews

Dear Publishing Houses of Australia,

We need to talk about Amy Matthews' End of the Night Girl. I'm sure you remember it. It's the novel you showered with rejection letters for ten years, until it eventually won the Adelaide Festival Award for Best Unpublished Manuscript. Perhaps you thought that nobody would buy it – that it was too strange, too complex, too gloomy a mixture of holocaust trauma and modern day malaise.

Well, take note: I did buy it, and I'd happily buy it again. End of the Night Girl is exactly the kind of fiction that I will be spending my hard-earned cash on in the future. It's innovative. It's tight, brusque, engaging. It wears its Australian–ness comfortably and quietly. It's well-written (which counts for a lot when you're a creative writing student who woke up one morning halfway through first year to find that Dan Brown suddenly made you cringe.)

To call End of the Night Girl a 'holocaust novel' would be to sell it short. We've had far too many of those already. Matthews takes one step back from the typical story of cruelty and starvation, and instead gives us Molly, a young waitress from Adelaide who, for reasons that she herself struggles to understand, is writing a novel about the holocaust. The metafictional element is strong but subtle. Molly's story is carefully interwoven with that of her protagonist, Gienia; a polish woman who haunts her through her futile job, her nights spent drinking, her failed relationships, her family problems.

Though the novel received positive reviews, quite a few readers and critics seem intent on unwrapping Gienia's story and throwing away Molly's. Christopher Bantick in The Australian even went so far as to say that Gienia's story 'matters' while Molly's does not. Quite aside from the fact that I personally connect more with Molly than I do with Gienia, I could not imagine one story without the other. It is the relationship between the two that sets End of the Night Girl apart. Together, they form an exploration of how we use fiction to make sense of our own lives; how we find ourselves in characters who have never existed. 'I don't expect her to do more than stare,' says Molly of her constant, ghostly companion, 'so I'm surprised when she reaches out to comfort me.' In the face of bewildering reality, literature provides not only comfort, but also clarity.

Molly's character is just as full and convincing as Gienia's, and her suffering is no less important. Gienia starves because she is in a concentration camp. Molly starves even though she is surrounded by the peace and plenty of twenty-first century Australia. The question of why is far more interesting to me than yet another description of holocaust suffering, however evocatively rendered. As Molly attempts to piece together the fragments of Gienia's story, she confronts the lack of a linear plot in her own life; the difficulty of tracing patterns of cause and effect. 'I try to find the beginning,' she writes, 'the first moment that led to all the other moments – but all I find are loose ends, long threads weaving in and out of one another.'

Far from being bewildering or aimless, however, the novel itself is needle-sharp. Matthews guides us through Molly's nights and days, moment by moment, plunging into her past as the opportunities arise. The result, somehow, is a satisfying novel about dissatisfaction, a precisely structured story of structural breakdown.

So, for the benefit of any editorial button-pushers reading this, I'd like to make it clear that I'm not interested in 'more of the same'. I'm interested in more books like End of the Night Girl – books that are refreshing and challenging and just plain good.

Oh, and Wakefield Press – you're off the hook, obviously. Please publish more of Matthews' work. I look forward to reading what else she has to offer her generation of Australian writing – a generation that looks better and better with every book I read.

By Samuel Williams

The new Speakeasy Zine is coming!

The inaugural issue of the Speakeasy Zine will be available at the next Speakeasy on campus event, this Friday the 11th of November. It contains a mash up of poetry, prose, art, interviews and reviews by the creative and talented folks at Flinders University. So don't forget to bring a few extra dollars with you to secure your copy.

Get amongst it!