Never having heard of this delightful young woman, though I sure as hell have now, I was mesmerised by this song on the car radio this afternoon, on Adelaide's local ABC.
I used to listen to, and perform, a lot of folk music when I was in my teens and twenties. But I didn't have the analytical skills I have since acquired, in 35 years of reading and thinking about literature and society, to think about these kinds of songs in a way that any educated young woman would automatically think about them now. If someone held a gun to my head and said 'Write a 3,000 word feminist analysis of this song and its narrative structure in the next three hours or you will be shot,' there is no doubt that I would get out of it alive.
But never mind that for the moment -- and you will get the gist at a visceral level anyway. Just have a listen to Sarah Calderwood's filigree musicianship and this haunting tale of commerce and nemesis, impossible to tell convincingly in any but a minor key.
He's currently dancing in London with the Bolshoi and I first heard his name on radio the other day, with an interview. Dancing makes him happy, he says, because it is his element. 'I am fish in water.'
The part of my job that I routinely most enjoy is the piling-up and eventual ripping-open of bags of new books for review. Today, one of these is a large heavy book with a shiny cover in that hue of heavily-saturated candy pink that unmistakably signifies chick lit. On the back there's a partial plot summary about international travel and intrigue and murders and so on, and among the various blurb lines that follow, someone has said 'It's James Bond for girls.'
Still Life With Cat is an all-purpose blog containing reflections on whatever is going on in the realms of literature, politics, media, music, dinner, gardening etc. Its original incarnation is Pavlov's Cat (2005-2008).
Read, Think, Write is about all things books and writing, and incorporates Australian Literature Diary (2005-2010) and Ask the Brontë Sisters (May-July 2007).
Blogs are by Kerryn Goldsworthy, a writer, critic and editor who lives and works in Adelaide, South Australia.
RIP Fred Kirschenmann
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Fred Kirschnmann died over the weekend after a long illness, a great loss.
He described himself as a farmer-philosopher, and so he was. I first met
him i...
Hayek's Bastards by Quinn Slobodian
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Bastards!
*Sydney Review of Books*
(5 September 2025)
Readers of a certain age with a taste for intellectual history will
recognise the title of *Ha...
TAFE
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I AM NOW THREE weeks into a year long course in Residential Drafting. I've
decided, having investigated a few options including a hugo static site
that I...
Birthday Helmet
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I'm not 100% convinced by these, mostly because my Birth Helmet will clash
TERRIBLY with my Birth Siege Engine and I know this will also be true for A
L...
Finished my book
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Well, I finished my book. I'm very proud of it. It'll be published on 19
September.
I made a website about it which has some nice pictures and bi...
Lahti
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I am in Lahti, Finland, to give a talk at the Lahti Symphony's Sibelius
Festival. I've been wanting to visit since I encountered Osmo Vänskä's
revelatory B...
Ghost Species Cover Reveal
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I’m very excited to be able to reveal the cover of my new novel, Ghost
Species. I’ve talked a little about it before, but here’s the blurb: When
scientist ...
Easy Ways To Improve Your LinkedIn Profile
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When you’re at a networking evening you need to be able to sum up what your
company does and how they can deliver for the person you’re talking too –
you...
life is not a blog post
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I was in a café this morning when the waiter, a beardy bloke in his early
20’s called me “my love”. I wondered if that was a term of endearment he
reserve...
use it or lose it
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turns out if you don't blog for over a year the part of your brain that
stores your blog password (the same one you've had for the entire ten,
no, ELEVEN y...
A Bear and a Lion and a brand new school
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Our world has fundamentally shifted. We have moved schools halfway through
the primary years, and our worlds, especially those of our children, have
been r...
Not-cross-buns, 2016
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Continuing a fine tradition in our house of subverting pre-existing
festivals for our own purposes, I’ve made not-cross-buns, using the
excellent recipe on...
Celebrating new books
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Over the next week I'm looking forward to celebrating the birth of two new
books.
No. Not mine. When contemplating the release of my own book I'm generally...
A pretext for moving along
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I think I've come to terms that this blog is over. It was a fantastic way
to meet people and talk about my thoughts and processes, but I seem to be
channe...
Plus Ultra!
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I know Brian said that we’d posted our last, but I couldn’t let the very
kind words on the thread announcing our closure to go un-remarked. I also
thought ...
A condolence of sorts
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Melbourne. Full moon, winter solstice and a real chill in the air. I have
been walking the Fitzroy streets even more than usual in the days since
Betty Bur...
So I've been wanting to post
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There have been so many posts whirling around in my head lately: so many
words and so little time to write them down.
I want to write about settling into ...
Larvatus Prodeo: A four-cannon salute
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Sad news as the good ship Larvatus Prodeo hoists anchor and departs the
waters immediately to our south.
Fort Solor duly issues four-gun salute. *Sargento ...
sleeping with bears
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On Sunday morning, I caught up with the not-so-speedies (a ka: the
‘slowpokes’). For those not in the know, this is a consortium of peoples
who prefer to r...
Recalling the Public Phone
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Guest Post by Jayde Cahir
I have owned a mobile for 14 years. Even while backpacking overseas in the
late 90s I carried one with me. But I’m not a mobile ...