Published in Overland Issue 249 Summer 2022 · Uncategorized Editorial Evelyn Araluen and Jonathan Dunk ‘Overlanding’, as in droving cattle across country at distance, waxed as a literary trope precisely as it waned as a means of labour. Like its dialectical opposite the Squatter, the Overlander is etymologically multiple, meaning both the drover who is employed and respectable, and the sundowner, who is itinerant and suspect. In the Australian social imaginary, one is elevated to a culture hero and a symbol of belonging, the indexes the repressed cognisance of the settler as a predatory interloper. One of the innovations of Leah Purcell’s adaptations of Lawson’s ‘The Drover’s Wife’ demonstrates the coextension of these types. The writing in our latest issue is animated by the problems and revelations of interiority. Elias Greig’s illuminating discussion of nativist paranoia in Heather Rose’s novel Bruny demonstrates the persistence of perennial settler fantasies of replacement. Through a more intimate lens EJ Clarence’s personal essay ‘Dovetails’ traces the ongoing psychological disconnections wrought by Australian forced adoption policies. The recurrence and recursion of the nominal past is also the subject of Natalia Figueroa Barroso’s graceful hybrid essay on linguistic loss and transformation ‘A guide to the colonisation of my mother tongues.’ Solidarity, Evelyn Araluen & Jonathan Dunk Evelyn Araluen Evelyn Araluen is a Goorie and Koori poet, researcher and co-editor of Overland Literary Journal. Her Stella-prize winning poetry collection DROPBEAR was published by UQP in 2021. More by Evelyn Araluen › Jonathan Dunk Jonathan Dunk is the co-editor of Overland, a widely published poet and scholar. He lives on Wurundjeri country. More by Jonathan Dunk › Overland is a not-for-profit magazine with a proud history of supporting writers, and publishing ideas and voices often excluded from other places. If you like this piece, or support Overland’s work in general, please subscribe or donate. Related articles & Essays 1 6 November 2026 · Friday Fiction Headland Harry Goddard He must have still been sore. I could tell from the winces he made as he scooted down the trail. Some unspoken agreement of not hitting other people’s children — and the circumstances of me not being that type of kid — spared me from the same punishment. I was taken to my parents who agreed I would have to work off the damages, and I must have mowed the lawn once, or cleaned the family car. 4 November 2026 · Film MIFF, Minotaur and the politics of maternal reception Alicia Byrnes Maternal labour is, in the terms I’ve set out here, not labour at all. Noisy, unfocused, mobile, perhaps even sleepy — it is an affront to arthouse film viewing and therefore unserious.