Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Choppers chopping over Writers’ Tears - Speakeasy at the Wheatsheaf 22 June 2016




Were you there? Were you there when we assembled in the entertainment area of the Wheatsheaf Hotel on that cold and wintry Wednesday evening? A crowd of Speakeasy enthusiasts came together to hear the latest freshly-baked offerings of a bunch of Flinders’ best and brightest under-grad writers plus extra special guest star Cameron Raynes.

In a major break with tradition, the usual phone out for pizzas was replaced with a moderate rush on the food truck outside, supplying Ecuadorian cuisine.  Another discernible change was the absence of mascot, muse, and semi-deity Gnomewald – away on hols with Lauren, sunning himself on a Cambodian beach.

Rock star, stand-up comedian and PhD candidate Piri Eddy was the MC for the evening and after a nod and a wink from President Jess he stepped up to the microphone.  After opening remarks, inflight safety demonstration and a joke or three, Piri called forth the first reader.

Ceri Glenie rallied herself from feline induced sleep deprivation to kick off with an engaging and heartfelt reading of Tommy Mason, a tender New York city love story from yesteryear with an unexpected ending.  ‘Sometimes secrets don’t need to be revealed.’

Self-confessed food network devotee and admirer of her own work, Caitlin Westphal presented Digital Stockholm, a thought provoking monologue which activated our conspiracy radars as she highlighted our addictive need for seducing pixel technology, to the sweet threatening whop-whop of Blackhawk helicopters passing over the Wheatsheaf (for our safety and protection of course). ‘Increasingly hectic world, me, myself and iPhone.’

Leaving her procrastination at the door, Jasmine Koop kept her promise to read an excerpt from her young-adult novel, Racing the Sun. Jasmine reconfirmed the value and majesty of the spoken word with her smooth consideration of ancient languages amidst a fantasy setting of souls, oracles and dragons blood. ‘The soul is complex. ‘One day to find their body. Three days to find her before she dies permanently.’

After a lengthy confessional of an introduction (revealing addictions to Criminal Minds and Jurassic Park, and woofing down Mexican cuisine), Caitlin Lang confronted us with the memories and challenges of being raised as a first born child, the innocent insecurities of childhood as parents divert their attention and affections to a newborn sibling before the ultimate collapse of the family unit. ‘Toothbrushes, shower curtains and teddy bears. The princes in Disney cartoons didn’t have multiple brides.’

Piri blew the whistle for the end of the first set and the Speakies dispersed to the food truck or the bar.  Was it at this point that the editors of Empire Times commemorated the parting of their ways with craft beer and snifters of Writers’ Tears?

The second set was begun by resident Speakeasy poet and time-fighter Kayla Gaskell. With a brash refusal to submit to the conventional boundaries of iambic pentameter, Kayla spun the warp and weft of her lyrical net over the audience in a sequence of moving personal poems. ‘Why would I want to be like you? You failed. I’ve locked away your memory only to get it out when things go wrong.’

After providing a bio heavy on bullshit and light on reality, Richard Falkner treated us to a moving exploration of damaged family relationships through an outback Australian road trip to Brisbane. Richard played beat homage to Jack Kerouac's On the Road with typical Australian larrikinism and touched us with the character's childhood memories amidst scenes of endless Mallee scrub plains. 

Marina Deller-Evans suppressed addiction to Earl Grey tea and terrible memes to inspire a joy for the colloquial as her lush story explored the transmission of serious personal news, impacting us through the impersonal modern digital technology of mobile phones with a tone of urban chatter rippling between her characters. ‘People our age shouldn’t die. Maybe life’s like that, skips, jumps and ripples.’

Emerging from the cloudy confusion of her academic life (which degree am I doing?), Lisandra Linde entranced the audience with an old English style poem on the high seas reminiscent of a Shakespearean soliloquy, with heroic captains and honourable ships and blades finding their marks. ‘From my post at the helm I hear them every night. Oh how my captain fails me now.’

A second set break was called and the remaining food was purchased from the delighted purveyor of Ecuadorian delights whilst an enthusiastic run was made on the Wheaty’s bar.  This joint really rocks beer, cider and whiskey!

After the wonderful diverse display of home-spun Flinders’ talent, the time had come for Piri to call published author, and Ulrick Prize winner, Cameron Raynes to the stage. Cameron eloquently read a number of poignant excerpts from his novel First Person Shooter as he revealed the torture and torment of the young character's childhood and adolescence coping with a humiliating stutter - a biographic similarity with Cameron's own life. ‘Barbed wire covered in molasses.’

The readings complete, it was times for raffle prizes and thankyous.  After a gustation of readings for the soul and food and fluids for the waistline, the Speakies exchanged fond farewells and dispersed into the cold of a night now stilled by the absence of military hardware.


Words by Richard Falkner and Tom Burghardt

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