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Volume
37, Number 1 “I was one of a generation of New Zealanders who went through this imaginative dislocation because the books I read were so predominantly British, and I was encouraged, by this influence, to think that my own country had very little to offer—that we New Zealanders were not part of the imaginative content of the world.”—Margaret Mahy, in Winter in July: Visits with Children’s Authors Down Under, by Janet Crane Barley Dear
Bookbird Reader, Today, both Australia and New Zealand show great respect for the literature of their indigenous populations. However, this was not always the case. When Australia was colonized in 1788 and New Zealand in 1840, the British settlers not only took away the personal and political sovereignty of the Aboriginal and Maori peoples but also marginalized their oral traditions. Moreover, colonial stories stereotyped the indigenous peoples as the enemy or “hostile natives” that the settlers encountered in their adventures or wars over territory. Indigenous children were separated from their parents and raised in mission schools where they were taught the English language and English literature rather than their ancient beliefs and heritage. The Aboriginal and Maori peoples had for centuries transmitted their wisdom, rituals, and sacred beliefs through storytelling. Thanks to the efforts of civil rights activists like Oodgeroo Noonuccal, who protested social inequities, fought for land rights, and demanded justice, indigenous authors, illustrators, and publishers have reclaimed their rich heritage and political voice. This voice can especially be heard in books for children—in English and through the print media that they have adopted. Indigenous stories from Australia come from the Dreamtime, the beginning of the world or mystical time. Dreamtime is the source of creation stories, myths of gods and supernatural beings, pourquoi tales, ancestor spirits, and folktales. Some of these tales are sacred and secret and cannot be treated irreverently or disseminated widely. Karen Smith’s analysis of Aboriginal picture books focuses on the impact of their philosophy, culture, history, and experiences on text and illustrations for children. Maori traditions and perspectives are presented with pride in R. L. Bacon’s Rua and the Sea People (1968; Auckland: Waiatarua Publishing, 1983), a fictional story of the arrival of Captain Cook in New Zealand. The Maori people accepted the Europeans just as the land had welcomed them when they came from Hawaiki many generations ago. Para Matchitt uses Maori symbols and stylistic devices to complement the text. Bacon’s The Fish of Our Fathers (Waiatarua Publishing, 1984) describes the rituals associated with each step of building a mighty canoe, which is a communal undertaking. R. H. G. Jahnke’s illustrations display kinship with nature; respect for traditions; the intricacy of Maori art; and the long seafaring tradition of the Maori people. Ironically, children of European descent were also colonized through their reading, mainly through books and magazines imported from England. Suffering from feelings of exile and nostalgia for home, the early settlers sought to re-create in their physical environment as well as through their reading and writing what they missed of home. Even books written by Australian and New Zealand authors and published locally had an “English” quality, because they were based on British models. Writers also had to satisfy the demands of the overseas publishers, who objected to the inclusion of strong local details in setting or idiom. Ivan Southall states, “Australia never got a mention except as the wilderness to which profligate cousins were sent and out of which lost uncles came”;1 and Margaret Mahy remembers, “When I tried to feature my own country, it shrank from me or decked itself out in stiff canvas and plywood. I myself did not believe what I had written” (“Margaret Mahy,” Barley 68). In fact, the imagination of the authors was so Anglicized that even as late as the 1970s, Mahy recounted in a recent email message to me, one writer submitted a story for publication in which it snowed at Christmastime in New Zealand! Not having books that reflected White experience in Australia and New Zealand was a matter of economics; books were too expensive to publish because of the small print runs. Nevertheless, the beginnings of a true national identity in literature—always an evolving concept—started to emerge when writers set their stories in Australia and New Zealand. “In the settler colonies…the task of compiling a national literary history has usually been an important element in the establishment of an independent cultural identity.”2 And both Australian and New Zealand writers “construct indigeneity” by finding their roots in the new land; determining relations with indigenous peoples; and capturing their experiences through distinctive diction, images, and symbols. The bush or wilderness—with its dangers, its alluring mystery, its mythic spirituality—became associated with national identity. Sanjay Sircar’s analysis of Miles Franklin’s Sydney Royal demonstrates that the book reflects a distinct identity rooted in the land and traditions of Australia while retaining strong ties with the mother country. Maurice Saxby states that in the 1960s some extremely talented writers and illustrators gave Australian children’s literature a unique voice through innovative techniques, strong themes, and aesthetic grace. Rosemary Johnston discusses early books like Seven Little Australians to show how home was defined through a sense of place and time. She states that recent picture books like Nadia Wheatley and Donna Rawlins’s My Place, because of their visual medium, capture the essence of time and space in Australia. While the geographical location of the house in the story has remained constant, it has been home to many peoples over time. Books imported from England and the USA are still widely read; however, children’s publishing is a rapidly growing industry in both Australia and New Zealand. Janet Crane Barley points out that 27 to 30 percent of all titles published in Australia are for children and that in the last ten years children’s books in New Zealand have become a big export item (xiv). In her Country Survey article, Mahy states that a change has been taking place since the mid-1980s. While writers and illustrators are still dependent on getting books published abroad, good books are being published in New Zealand. The prices of locally produced books are no longer prohibitive, because the attraction of imports has decreased, and readers favor local authors because they speak to their experiences. The sophistication of children’s literature is evident in all the genres—poetry, fantasy, science fiction, realistic and historical novels, picture books, and adventures. Young adult fiction reflects the contemporary issues—family tensions, sexual abuse, violence, lesbianism, search for identity. Australian and New Zealand picture books in particular have been recognized internationally. For instance, The Watertower by Gary Crew and Steven Woolman is a picture book for older readers. It challenges readers with its unique design—one must keep turning the book to read—and with clues that force readers to think critically in order to understand the multiple strands of the story. Using only pictures, Jeannie Baker in Window portrays the view from a window at two-year intervals, over the period of one generation, to convey the “nature of change and how small changes added to small changes can eventually result in a major change” (“Jeannie Baker,” Barley 106). The growing appreciation of Aboriginal myths and traditions is a source of inspiration for many writers of European descent, such as Patricia Wrightson, winner of the 1986 Andersen Author Award.3 Rhonda Craven points out that Aboriginal Studies is becoming a national priority and that nine institutions require it in teacher education courses. Including Aboriginal books in school curricula will empower students to understand the real history and perspectives of the Aboriginal people, their harmony with the land, and the necessity of conserving nature. In New Zealand, children’s books are being published in the Maori language, and children in both state and bilingual schools are being taught the Maori language (“Gavin Bishop,” Barley 57). The idealized goal in developing an overarching national literature is to embrace the individual discourses and experiences of ALL the people—indigenous, European, and new immigrants. As Johnston states, “[p]icture books are giving face to these multiple identities”; similarly storytelling, which is a highly developed art form in Australia, keeps alive the stories of all the peoples and cultures of Australia. It is this diversity and inclusiveness that gives the children’s literature of Australia and New Zealand its distinct literary voice. 1.
“Ivan Southall,” in Janet Crane Barley, Winter in July:
Visits with Children’s Authors Down Under To the Point: children’s literature of Australia and New Zealand Challenging
the Young Reader?: Changing Perspectives in Australian Children’s
Literature Children’s
Literature Advancing Australia Landscapes
of the Heart; Sharings of the Soul: Illustrated Universes in Australian
Aboriginal Picture Books of the 1990s Transformative
“Australianness” and Powerful Children: Miles Franklin’s
Sydney Royal Other
Voices Regular Features Focus
IBBY Reading
Promotion: Reading Makes a Big Splash in Sydney Country
Survey: Finding Your Reflection in a Small Mirror: A Developing Children’s
Literature in New Zealand Author
Spotlight: Patricia Wrightson International
Children’s Books of Note Professional
Literature News
and Announcements Calendar |
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