Bec Zajac has published in Overland, New Matilda and The Brooklyn Rail, and contributed to Channel 31, Joy 94.9 and 3CR Community Radio. She recently returned to Melbourne after five years working in independent media in New York.
While Spielberg’s tale will have viewers exiting the cinema in a complete and total patriotic coma, Tarantino’s will have audiences walking out dripping in the blood, gore and guts of American history.
Continue reading 'History and violence: Spielberg vs Tarantino' 0
The Red Shed was a unique, extremely successful, politically grounded theatre project based in Adelaide; in Overland 209, Carlin writes about his experiences collectively running the company and the ways they influenced his approach to creative work.
Continue reading '‘Find out whose ideas you want to steal and whose you want to shed’' 1
In 2010, lawyer Elizabeth O’Shea started work on her firm’s case representing Mohammed Sagar and Muhammad Faisal. The two men had received adverse security assessments from ASIO, the consequences of which were indefinite detention on Nauru.
Rebecca Giggs is one of those writers unafraid of experimenting with form. She writes fiction, poetry and creative nonfiction. Here, Bec Zajac talks to her about women writing nonfiction and her new Overland essay, ‘Imaging Women’.
In Overland 208, Michael Green investigates a co-operative response to unemployment. Bec Zajak spoke to him about what he found.
In our latest CAL Connections essay, ‘The name and the face’, writer and performance poet Juliana Qian writes about her experience growing up as an Australian from a non-English-speaking-background in suburban Melbourne.
The ‘Left’ is never happier than when they’re explaining the way things really are. It’s a strikingly un-self-conscious interpretation of false consciousness. But pedantry isn’t attractive; you can be as correct or complex as you want on Twitter and no one will necessarily have to pretend to care.
I walk into the historic Supper Room on the third floor of the Melbourne Town Hall. Period timber paneling lines the room, an opulent nineteenth-century sideboard stands in the corner; gold chandeliers hang from the ceiling. Around me are life-sized portraits of Melbourne’s mayors past with names like Godfrey Downes Carter (Mayor 1804–1885) and Alderman James Cooper Stewart (Mayor 1885–1886).