BOOK AND EXHIBITION REVIEWS

Scene in the Strand Arcade 1982. Contributed by National Archives of Australia [A6180, 13/12/82/18]

Well, it's a sad opening to 2016 for music fans with the gob-smacking announcement of the death of David Bowie on Monday night. So I thought we should pay tribute to him and acknowledge a special Sydney connection. He filmed the videoclip for "Let's Dance" - one of my favourite Bowie songs - partly in a pub in Carinda (north-west NSW) and then partly in Sydney. So we get some landscapes of Sydney from around 1983, when the the song was released. Here's the link to the clip on YouTube. There are a few scenes you might recognise - on the harbour, at a Sydney beach, in a machine shop (this was in Guildford), in the Strand Arcade, and just down the road from the studio, literally on the road on Broadway among the traffic. The young Aboriginal pair, Terry Roberts and Joelene King, were chosen from Sydney's Aboriginal and Islander Dance Theatre to star in the video. Bowie said in an interview at the time that he wanted to present Australian Indigenous people in a capitalist white society and highlight the conflicts and difficulties between the two cultures. He also called out Australia for what it was - an extremely racist country. And Bowie also filmed another clip in Sydney on the same album - China Girl. There are scenes down around the Chinatown district in a restaurant and along Dixon Street, and again there are scenes of Sydney Harbour showing a hydrofoil (remember them?) heading towards Circular Quay, the Sydney Harbour Bridge, and the Sydney Opera House, with a musician playing the double bass on the Man O'War Steps. Again, this was a song that explored racism. You can read more about Bowie's socio-political stance in these songs here: http://www.bowiedownunder.com/letsdancevideos/letsdancevideos.htm And I bet you can nominate some other film clips of international artists that incorporate some great scenes of Sydney. Let us know. [embed]https://youtu.be/N4d7Wp9kKjA[/embed] Miss today's segment? You can catch up here via the 2SER website. We are back for another great year of Sydney history segments in partnership with 2SER. Tune in 2SER Breakfast with Mitch Byatt on 107.3 every Wedensday morning at 8:20 am.

wp-image-11751https://home.dictionaryofsydney.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/BodgieStyle.jpgBodgie Styles for Spring 1951 . Almost-deserted Sydney beach (except for pretty, dark-haired Joan Francis) was chosen by bodgie David Roper, 17, to air leopard-skin trunks, with tail. From the collection of the State Library of New South Wales [TN18] (PIX, 14 July 1951, p30 (detail)) 400623/> Bodgie Styles for Spring 1951 . Almost-deserted Sydney beach (except for pretty, dark-haired Joan Francis) was chosen by bodgie David Roper, 17, to air leopard-skin trunks, with tail. From the collection of the State Library of New South Wales [TN18] (PIX, 14 July 1951, p30 (detail))

I can't believe another year has slipped by! We often get to the end of the year, and think: what have we done? Well, in the case of the Dictionary of Sydney, it's a lot!! So I thought today was a good time to take stock and share some of the achievements of the Dictionary in 2015 and some of the great stories we have brought you. Summertime is a great time to catch up on a few stories and we sure do have plenty of them at the Dictionary of Sydney. Some of the most popular content in 2015 has been our content around Aboriginal people in early Sydney. Consistently making our top ten most popular pages each month are:

• Pemulwuy and Bennelong - The history of Aboriginal resistance to white celebrations of settlement is a big hit.
• The 1938 Day of Mourning rarely leaves our top ten essays.

Our pictures are another great feature of the Dictionary, and much effort is put in by our authors, contributors and our picture researcher Linda Brainwood to find fascinating images of Sydney. Here are some of my favourite coastal and summertime Sydney images:

• 18 footers racing Sydney Harbour 1921
• Bodgie Styles for Spring 1951 Almost-deserted Sydney beach (except for pretty, dark-haired Joan Francis) was chosen by bodgie David Roper, 17, to air leopard-skin trunks, with tail
• Bondi Beach
• Pleasure Park at Tamarama, c.1890
• Botany Bay sunrise 2007
• Ice! ice! ice! newspaper advertisements 1855

We've made some great additions to the Dictionary.

• Audio excerpts of oral histories around Liverpool really bring the district's early history to life.
• We've also encouraged to get you out on the streets and exploring our history by publishing a walking tour of convict Parramatta in our smartphone app.

Some of our most popular blog posts have been:

• Tourist Sydney
• Centennial Park
• Drag and cross dressing in Sydney
• First Fleet histories
• Writing in Sydney
• NAIDOC Week celebrations
• Sydney’s governesses
• Long Bay prison
• Randwick Racecourse
• A Walk Through Convict Parramatta
• Bodgies and African American Influences in Sydney

And what can we look forward to in 2016? Well, we have two new walking tours in the pipeline, connecting Sydney's history through place and time. Look out for:

• Sydney Harbour Islands
• Randwick Heritage Walk

So until next year, from everyone at the Dictionary of Sydney, greetings for the festive season and have a fantastic Sydney summer holiday. If you missed Lisa's segment this morning, you can catch up on the podcast here. A big thank you to Mitch Byatt and the team at 2SER for a great year and to all guest historians, in particular, Dr Lisa Murray and Nicole Cama. Have a great break and tune in again next year for more Sydney history courtesy of the Dictionary.

Pauline Curby, Randwick (Randwick, NSW: Randwick City Council, 2009). 1–404. ill. (some col.), ports., col. maps, facsims. ; 30 cm. Published to mark the occasion of 150 years of local government in the City of Randwick. ISBN: 9780908510085. RRP: $69.95

Pauline Curby, Randwick (Randwick, NSW: Randwick City Council, 2009). 1–404. ill. (some col.), ports., col. maps, facsims. ; 30 cm. Published to mark the occasion of 150 years of local government in the City of Randwick. ISBN: 9780908510085. RRP: $69.95

If you’ve ever visited the beaches of Maroubra, Bondi or Clovelly, or walked the streets of gracious terraces and working cottages of Randwick, you’ll enjoy the authoritative work Randwick by Pauline Curby. Chapters follow chronologically and by themes like 'Moving to the Underworld' or 'Randwick at War' which allowed me to easily dip into an area that interested me. I was surprised at the amount of industry that had once employed so many –often demolished to make way for housing – a theme which was as relevant after World War I when garden suburbs like Matraville and Daceyville were promoted as it is today with the development of Victoria Park on a former racecourse and factory site. And with so many photographs to enjoy – the beach beauties, the Randwick racegoers, the houses large and small – this is a very satisfying coffee table book and reference for anyone interested in all manner of history from La Perouse to Centennial Park. Jenny McInerney 2015

Jillian Brown, The University of Sydney: Postcards 1899–1955 and Photographs (Sydney, NSW: Jillian Brown), 1–141. ISBN 978 0 646 92881 4.

Jillian Brown, The University of Sydney: Postcards 1899–1955 and Photographs (Sydney, NSW: Jillian Brown), 1–141. ISBN 978 0 646 92881 4.

A hundred years or so ago the impressive gothic revival buildings of the University of Sydney were a popular tourist attraction, particularly those surrounding the Quadrangle – the magnificent Great Hall, the Clock Tower, the Nicholson Museum and the new Fisher Library. Postcards, a cheap and easy way of communicating and sharing experiences, were produced in their millions in many countries, and cards with views of the university were popular purchases for those living in or visiting Sydney. Though the picture postcard has long been in decline as a medium of communication it continues to fascinate collectors (known as deltiologists from the Greek deltos, ‘writing tablet’ or ‘letter’). Jill Brown, a former staff member in the university’s Fisher Library, is proudly a deltiologist and her speciality is postcards depicting the university. In a labour of love she has selected and published 87 cards from her much larger collection – the mere tip of a postcard iceberg. Jill is also a keen photographer and in many cases she contrasts the cards with recent photographs of the same scene. Her expertise enables her to date many of the otherwise undated cards by reference to, for example, when trees were planted on the front lawns and elsewhere and when cranes loomed over the roofs during the construction of the original Fisher Library, now MacLaurin Hall. Not surprisingly most of the cards reproduced are of the main building (the ‘Eastern Range’) as the university’s most outstanding architectural feature. But there are cards and more modern photographs of Sydney Grammar School, where the university began; St Andrew’s, St Paul’s and Women’s Colleges; the Institute building; the Holme building; the former Sydney Teachers’ College; Fisher Library (MacLaurin Hall); the Anderson Stuart building; the Conservatorium; the lake in Victoria Park with the university in the distance; student groups and scenes in lecture theatres; the Quadrangle; and other scenes and buildings familiar to all who know the place. As well as documenting the university pictorially, Jill Brown’s book is a reflection of social history because although her primary aim is to reproduce the pictures on the fronts of these cards she also transcribes the messages on the backs. What sorts of things did people typically say on a postcard a century ago? Of necessity their messages were brief. Often they were banal and inconsequential – 'Hope you are having a good time and enjoying the best of health', 'Wishing you the Compliments of the Season', 'Could you & your mother come and see us on Thursday afternoon', and so on. Other messages are of more interest – 'Tasted a ripe ‘paw-paw’ fruit today, would on the whole prefer an un-ripe turnip', 'This is where Guy is studying for a licence to kill [i.e. Medicine]'. Many crammed longer messages into a small space by means of tiny script and use of abbreviations – everything from notes of tourism to reports of medical conditions – but only four of the writers mentioned the university or having been there. It seems that the cards were selected for purchase not so much for the relevance of their pictures but because they were readily available and suitable for a quick and friendly note to a friend or relative. To whom were these cards sent? Some in the collection are unused, but the others spanned the world. Foreign destinations are the most numerous (UK, France, New Zealand and elsewhere) followed by addresses in Sydney suburbs, New South Wales country towns and interstate. The university’s images were widely disseminated. The 87th and last card reproduced in the book represents the jewel in Jill Brown’s collection, a card for which she searched for many years. It is of the main building and Great Hall, from the north-east, and shows clearly the long-lost Angel of Knowledge triumphantly on her pedestal at the eastern end of the Great Hall roof. Seven feet tall and sculpted from sandstone, the angel was removed in 1874 for safety reasons and its whereabouts has become an enduring mystery. Photographs of it are rare, but Jill has found one. Jill Brown has produced a beautiful and nostalgia-filled book and anyone interested in the university’s history will find this a fascinating journey through its buildings and the people responsible for them. Copies are available for $40 through the Chancellor’s Committee Gift Shop under the Clock Tower in the Quadrangle at Sydney University, or by email at http://sydney.edu.au/ccs/shop/index.shtml Neil Radford 2015      

Tony Allan, Typewriter: The History, the Machines, the Writers (New York: Shelter Harbor Press, 2015), 1–96. ISBN 978 1 62795 034 3. RRP: $16.99

Tony Allan, Typewriter: The History, the Machines, the Writers (New York: Shelter Harbor Press, 2015), 1–96. ISBN 978 1 62795 034 3. RRP: $16.99

More than 50 people are credited with inventing the typewriter, going back to the 17th century. The industrial revolution created mountains of paper needing armies of clerks to write and copy legal and financial documents. Inventors competed to devise a cheaper and faster way. Allan takes us through the different solutions which culminated in the first truly modern typewriter, the Underwood 5 of 1901. This sold in millions and Underwood became the world’s leading typewriter manufacturer. There are many illustrations of machines and typists, including Marilyn Monroe in 1949 with a typewriter balanced on her lap and showing plenty of leg. Perhaps she was advertising not typewriters but stockings for the modern typist. Mark Twain was probably the first serious writer to adopt the typewriter because he found he could type much faster than writing. In 1883 he submitted Life on the Mississippi to his publisher in typescript, the first author to do so. Other authors are listed with their favourite machines and there is a photo of Jack Kerouac working away at his Underwood Portable. Truman Capote famously said of Kerouac’s output “That’s not writing, it’s just typing.” Cormac McCarthy’s Olivetti, bought from a pawn shop in 1963, was auctioned for charity in 2009, bringing $254,500. He bought an identical replacement for $20 and continued writing. Conan Doyle used the typewriter in one of his stories in which Sherlock Holmes traced anonymous typed letters to their source. Movies that have featured typing, typists and typewriters in their plots are listed and summarised. The rise of the word processing computer has not led to the demise of the typewriter. They are popular in developing countries where the electricity supply is unreliable and in recent years the Russian government reverted to using typewriters for sensitive material because they can’t be hacked. Since 2010 the 'type-in' has become a social event in many countries, groups gathering at bookshops or coffee shops for hours of typing fun. Look at http://type-in.org and be amazed. Allan’s engaging and comprehensive survey presents enough typewriter facts and photos to excite the collector and to interest the layperson. Neil Radford 2015

Author Jacqui Newling with her new book, Eat Your HIstory: A Shared Table, at Vaucluse House, Sydney. Photograph by Jenny McInerney.

Jacqui Newling, Eat Your History: Stories and Recipes from Australian Kitchen (Kensington, New South Wales: Sydney Living Museums and Newsouth Books, 2015), 1–272. ISBN: 9 781 74223 468 7. RRP: $49.99

As curator and resident gastronomer at the Museum of Sydney, Jacqui Newling gives us a unique perspective on culinary history of Australia. Weaving together the available produce of the day and stories from the simplest or best equipped kitchens, Newling gives us a rich understanding of the ingenuity and skills of the women whose recipes are available here to try. Adapting English recipes to use wonga pigeon or wallaby added colour to colonial times but the flavours often depended on your economic status. Mustards, cloves, nutmeg or cinnamon could only be afforded by wealthier households but ginger was much more affordable so enjoying the Gingernuts gave me a new appreciation their social status and flavour! Well indexed and beautifully illustrated, the stories and recipes add a new dimension to ‘making do’ – preserving, waiting for the iceman or the milko, or coping with early Kooka stoves.  

Jacqui Newling, Eat Your History: Stories and Recipes from Australian Kitchen (Kensington, New South Wales: Sydney Living Museums and Newsouth Books, 2015), 1–272. ISBN: 9 781 74223 468 7. RRP: $49.99

While the stories continue through post-war migration of the 1960s and 70s, the emphasis is very much on the first century of our culinary history – making it an ideal read for anyone who wants to appreciate our social history through the table we sat at or the food that was served. And it gave me some great ideas for sharing the four generations of handwritten recipes I’ve inherited of my own family’s journey through food. Jenny McInerney, 2015 Available from Sydney's Living Museums, New South Books and all good book stores!  

Hilary Bell, The Marvellous Funambulist of Middle Harbour and Other Sydney Firsts, illustrated by Matthew Martin (Kensington, New South Wales: New South, December 2015). ISBN: 978 1 74223 440 3 RRP $24.99

Hilary Bell, The Marvellous Funambulist of Middle Harbour and Other Sydney Firsts, illustrated by Matthew Martin (Kensington, New South Wales: New South, December 2015). ISBN: 978 1 74223 440 3 RRP $24.99

This is a beautifully crafted and rather entertaining history of unexpected ‘firsts’ that have happened in Sydney. From the first use of ether by a dental surgeon, to Quong Tart’s first tea rooms, the book explores a number of people, places and events that have shaped our city today. Written in witty short rhymes, we also learn about the first pistol duel in 1788, the first cemetery in 1792 and the first traffic light in 1933. Towards the end there is a ‘second helpings’ section which elaborates more information on the stories explored in the book. Matthew Martin’s illustrations add greatly to the charming style and the overall impression is something of a cross between Horrible Histories and Dr Zeuss – all wrapped up with a particular Sydney flavour. The Marvellous Funambulist will appeal to children in the 8–12 age range. It will also delight adults reading it aloud to younger children. A great stocking filler for all Sydneysiders this Christmas. Catie Gilchrist November 2015

Carol Baxter, Black Widow: The True Story of Australia’s First Female Serial Killer (Crows Nest, NSW: Allen & Unwin, 2015), 1–366.  ISBN 978 1 74331 501 9. RRP $29.99

Carol Baxter, Black Widow: The True Story of Australia’s First Female Serial Killer (Crows Nest, NSW: Allen & Unwin, 2015), 1–366. ISBN 978 1 74331 501 9. RRP $29.99

Sydney, July 1888. A seemingly distressed Louisa Collins begs a doctor to visit her violently ill husband Michael whom she fears is close to death. The doctor, alarmed at his rapidly deteriorating condition and the ineffectiveness of his prescribed treatment, confides with a colleague and learns that Louisa’s first husband Charles Andrews had died 17 months previously in suspiciously similar circumstances. The subsequent death of Michael from arsenic poisoning then triggered a sensational chain of events which had much deeper social and political ramifications for Sydney and indeed New South Wales and beyond. Carol Baxter has written a meticulously researched, richly detailed, convincingly argued and compelling book which this reviewer found to be utterly unputdownable, despite knowing the eventual outcome. Black Widow is the remarkable true story of the life of Louisa Collins but it also explores the much wider social conditions of Sydney and New South Wales in the year of the centenary. Louisa Collins married her first husband Charles Andrews when she was 18 and he was 32. Despite having nine children, the marriage was not a happy one. So when Michael Collins, good looking and in his early twenties, became a boarder in their house at Botany in 1886, it soon became obvious to Charles that Louisa and Michael were having an affair. Andrews ordered Collins to leave; three weeks later, Andrews – a hard-working, strong and healthy man – became violently ill and died. At the time the cause of death was thought to be gastroenteritis; later when Andrews's body was exhumed for evidence of poisoning, small traces of arsenic were found in his remains. Louisa was not found guilty of murder although there are strong suggestions that she was.[1] For her contemporaries, she had two quintessential motives for murder’[2] – ‘lust and greed’. The day Andrews died, and before she called a doctor, Louisa caught a tram to Sydney and cashed in a large inheritance from Andrews. Within two months, she and Collins married. For some of their Botany neighbours, this was all rather scandalous, as was her refusal to wear black for the required twelve month mourning period. By all accounts deeply in love, Louisa and Michael's all too short relationship was a tragic tale of squandered inheritance, unemployment, alcoholism, the death of their child and, as the author convincingly suggests, threats of abandonment. This, Baxter concludes, was probably the reason Louisa decided to kill Collins; rather than become an abandoned wife, Louisa used her domestic power in the kitchen and gradually put poison in his drinks. For many observers at the time this was truly outrageous behaviour, offensive to the law and to traditional gender roles and the wifely ideal. Naturally when the story of the ‘Botany Bay Murderess’ became known, the news was a startling press sensation. Sydneysiders were both horrified and fascinated while newspaper editors wrote tantalising and lurid headlines. When the case went to court – not once, not twice, but four separate times – the spectators gallery was packed every time. In the days leading up to her execution it seems the whole of Australia was waiting with anticipation to receive news of a grant of clemency. As the author points out, ‘Sydney was not alone in its fascination with Louisa’s case. With the benefits of the instant telegraph service, all of Australia was waiting to hear what would happen as the gallows clock continued its unrelenting countdown.’[3] In the nineteenth century, capital cases had to be decided by the unanimous agreement of 12 men on the jury. But because the evidence was so unreliable, the testimony of her young children so irregular and the unwillingness of many men to capitally convict women, the first three trials eventuated in hung juries. Many at the time thought the matter should have been dropped after the second trial and especially after the third. Yet Louisa Collins was subjected to four different trials which was unheard of in the legal history of colonial Australia and indeed elsewhere under British law. Baxter probes the facts of the case and questions the Crown’s relentless pursuit of her conviction and their determination to bring her to the gallows. There was, as the author suggests, ‘an unprecedented level of zealous determination…to convict her.’[4] The fourth trial found her guilty of murdering Michael Collins and the author discusses the ways in which the jury was mostly persuaded to come to this decision by the judge. As such, much of the book is set in the courtroom and the drama which unfolded there. In Baxter’s hands this does not become dry and tedious but rather adds to the mounting crescendo of the tale in the very words spoken by the protagonists involved at the time. The author has deftly used the hundreds of pages of depositions and court transcripts and the hundred thousand words of testimony to recreate this incredibly compelling story. At the same time, and beyond the drama of the courtroom, the book also explores the wider social and political issues of the day; the meaning of the centenary year, the heated topic of Chinese immigration and the even hotter contemporary debate over the rights and wrongs of capital punishment – and issue which deeply divided Sydneysiders in 1888 as it had two years previously over the notorious Mount Rennie rape case. The trials also had many scratching their heads over the frustrating need for unanimous verdicts in capital cases. The case had important political ramifications as the New South Wales Government was deeply divided over the issue of executing women and many members at the time called for the Parkes government to abolish capital punishment there and then. The role and relevance of the Queen’s representative, Governor Carrington, was also debated as he had the final say in commuting the death penalty to life imprisonment. Despite large petitions and deputations to plead for her life, Carrington acquiesced to Henry Parkes (who threatened that his government would resign if a stay of execution was granted) and refused to grant clemency. Finally the case of Louisa Collins brought up the ‘woman question’ with the stirrings of first wave feminism and calls for greater rights for women. At the same time the old misogynist chestnut of the ‘weaker sex’ and ‘the angel in the house’ ideal was starkly juxtaposed against the specter of the mad, bad woman and the idea that female criminals – and husband poisoners in particular – were the worst of the worst, an idea that resonated with many in the late nineteenth century as it had during the years of female convict transportation. Louisa Collins had broken the criminal law in killing Collins, yet perhaps her greater crime was, as Baxter suggests, breaking the unwritten social law of what constituted respectable, dutiful, passive – and thus appropriate womanly – behaviour. For this she became the first woman in New South Wales to be executed in 28 years, the first woman to be hung at Darlinghurst jail, and ultimately, the last woman to suffer capital punishment in New South Wales. At times this book is gruesome and makes for disturbing reading. There are graphic details of how hideously arsenic poisoning kills, the revolting processes of exhuming the bodies of her first husband and dead baby, the procedures involved in nineteenth century autopsies and the explicit description of her botched execution by hanging in the hands of an incompetent executioner known locally as Nosey Bob. Black Widow is a bleak but thought-provoking examination of a grim episode in Australia’s colonial history. Baxter vividly brings the whole drama to life in such a way that the reader feels as though she is actually watching it unfold before her very eyes. It will be of great interest to social historians and readers curious about the history of the law and medical anatomy. It will certainly appeal to true crime fiction readers, and also people interested in female crime and ultimately anyone interested in life in Sydney in the late nineteenth century. Dr Catie Gilchrist July 2015 [1] She was tried for the murder of Charles Andrews at the third of her trials however the evidence was dubious and 10 out of the 12 jurors thought she was innocent. [2] Carol Baxter, Black Widow: The True Story of Australia’s First Female Serial Killer (Crows Nest, NSW: Allen & Unwin, 2015), p 94 [3] Carol Baxter, Black Widow: The True Story of Australia’s First Female Serial Killer (Crows Nest, NSW: Allen & Unwin, 2015),302 [4] Carol Baxter, Black Widow: The True Story of Australia’s First Female Serial Killer (Crows Nest, NSW: Allen & Unwin, 2015), 233