Comments for Beryl Fletcher

Comment on On Becoming an Old Writer by Graeme Souster

Graeme Souster — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 11:08:31 +0000

Beryl, you say that you are close to your 4 siblings. I was a good friend of your sister Alison during high school days at Mt Roskill - I do not expect you to remember me - in more recent times my wife happened to come across one of your books in the Galston library here in Sydney and was fascinated to read about your family life in the 50s, and in particular mention of various teachers at Mt Roskill Grammar whom I of course knew.

I asked my wife if you had a sister named Alison, and she said ” Yes, why ?” Well we have dined out on this for some time now !

Are you able to pass on my good wishes to Alison ?

Kind regards

Graeme Souster

Comment on Old Books Never Die by Pippa Stevenson

Pippa Stevenson — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 21:20:48 +0000

Hi Beryl,
Interesting thoughts. Have you read The Art of Travel by Alain de Botton? You’ll never want to or need to travel after reading it. Or not in the conventional sense. Well, it pretty much had that effect on me anyway.
http://www.alaindebotton.com/travel.asp

Comment on Mahler in the Morning: the Street at Night by Hnery

Hnery — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 22:17:47 +0000

I envy you, a modern female Thoreau, just so far from the madding crowd. However, look at me, several classrooms of students, an office of colleagues and a patch of work to battle. Yours is a really adorable life style for most modern, say, both New Zealanders and Chinese people.

Music in your life reminds me the very first sentence of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night: “If music be the food of love, play on.” I’d like music to be the food of life, apart from love. A disheartening fact is that most modern ears are not capable of appreciating classical music, which is among the college staff’s duty to call for more attention from our dearest students.

I really enjoy your every topic in the blog, very thought-provoking. Thx

Comment on When Language Goes on Holiday by A J Fletcher

A J Fletcher — Thu, 16 Jul 2009 05:05:39 +0000

Loved this. Question - did you get it finished??

Comment on Gay Men Cannot Be Murdered by Henry Lee

Henry Lee — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 09:04:50 +0000

There is a long way to go, for homos to obtain there room of their own. In my country, it is beyond general acceptance to have a gay or lesbian in your neighborhood. And they are biased severly, as it should be as possible.

Comment on Gay Men Cannot Be Murdered by Peter Wells

Peter Wells — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 06:49:04 +0000

I agree with your comments. I felt a huge sense of bleakness, underlaid with anger as a gay man when I heard the commentary. The news media took a salacious fascination with the fact a guitar was shoved down the man’s throat - something so homophobic it causes me to shudder. The whole case was pathetic from beginning to end and the horrible thing is it leaves an unbalanced man on the loose.

Comment on Sydney Dreaming by Peter Wells

Peter Wells — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 23:01:26 +0000

Lovely piece on Sydney, Beryl - catches its strange attraction/repulsion. Like you I have Sydney ancestors, my Napier ancestor marrying an Australian lass in 1838. His Cornish brother was a Sydney convict - his name was Samuel Northey and the name persisted right down the generations. A later Samuel Northey, my grandfather’s best friend, died at Chunuk Bair. And I think subconsciously this was why I chose ‘Samuel’ as the name of my favourite literary character (in my own work) - Samuel Barton. So I think you’re right about genetic memory persisting.

Comment on Of Soup and Winter and Literary Prizes by Peter Wells

Peter Wells — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 22:45:11 +0000

I recall the photo of you in The House at Karamu in which you are wearing a beautifully handknitted pullover with a very complicated pattern near the neck.
My ancient mother sits knitting every night while she watches television. As a 93 year old she tells me she doesn’t like ‘wasting time’. Every so often I stitch together an embroidery I find in a junk shop, turning it into a cushion. I find the rhythmical (sp?) trance very calming and inward. I don’t really think of anything but the mind, left free to wander, meanders off. And the mechanical repetition calms me down better than any pill. Sometimes I think writing, or rather typing at a computer is like this: it actually calms me down. Perhaps this is why people no longer run out onto the streets to demonstrate. We are all, as humans, calming ourselves down by repetitive tasks like typing on computers….

Comment on When Language Goes on Holiday by Annie

Annie — Tue, 14 Apr 2009 10:13:49 +0000

so glad you’re back …

Comment on Marking Stories and Marking Time by Peter Wells

Peter Wells — Thu, 19 Feb 2009 06:01:27 +0000

Wrestling with words is a constant battle against insignificance. Now that the writing school is coming to an end I face going back to writing. The solitary battle of writing at times overwhelms, especially at the beginning - when you face ‘going back in’. Yet I know I will go ‘back in’….even as I realise that the entire world I knew and took for granted is changing. I mean here globally, financially and technologically. It is challenging. Most of all - the big - the huge question - why.
Why bother. Who cares. It’s hard to answer this. But like Beryl I suppose I know I am driven to write. It is the way I know I exist. If I was in a cell, I would trace some pattern on a wall. This sounds bleak. Maybe I am just tired from the school. Yet I’ve also had a break from ‘the page’….which in many ways has been fantastic. I have also been incredibly aided by Beryl. She is alert, sharp, wise - funny. We have shared some truly evil jokes. That’s how you survive in the end. Humour has to be the most human attribute.
So as I go back into the ‘cell’ I’ll remember that - humour is what saves us and keeps us sane.