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  • The Coachbuilder’s Column: Volume 15: Issue 11: 15th July, 2025:  about the author Graham Greene, letters and novels.

    I’ve just read  ‘Graham Greene: A Life in Letters’ edited by Richard Greene [no relation], published in 2007 [446 pages]………….I’d never read any of Greene’s novels though knew I had one somewhere, eventually tracked it down, a Penguin paperback of The Honorary Consul’, first published in 1973, which I refer to later, as I decided I had to read at least one of his novels.

    As revealed through his letters, his novels were generally based upon people he’d met, or places and international conflicts that he found himself involved in. And as revealed through the letters, a vivid portrait of a fascinating writer, a mercurial man of courage, wit and passion. 

    As Amazon describes it – “One of the undisputed masters of twentieth-century English prose, Graham Greene (1904-1991) wrote tens of thousands of personal letters. This exemplary volume presents a new and engrossing account of his life constructed out of his own words. Impeccably edited by scholar Richard Greene, the letters–including many unavailable even to his official biographer–give a new perspective on a life that combined literary achievement, political action, espionage, travel, and romantic entanglement. The letters describe his travels in such places as Mexico, Vietnam, and Cuba, where he observed the struggles of mankind with a compassionate and truthful eye. Letters to friends such as Evelyn Waugh and Muriel Spark offer a glimpse into the literary culture in which he wrote, while others reveal the agonies of his heart. The sheer range of experience contained in Greene’s correspondence defies comparison”.

    These letters, as published by his namesake, were written over 70 years, from September, 1921 to the 21 March, 1991 [14 days before he died]. As a prolific writer of diaries, personal notes and reflections myself, I guess that was the reason I was attracted to the book. He was not just an author – but a journalist, reporter, investigator, confidante of the famous in both literary and political circles, constantly travelling around the world, usually to political hotspots and war or revolutionary zones in Asia, Central and South America, Africa, Russia and other Communist controlled countries during both the years of World War II, and the subsequent Cold War period, with his life and personal safety often at risk. His letters generally pulled no punches, many of a highly personal and romantic nature.  His correspondence relationship with so many great authors [many of whom I was not familiar with] including in particular that great novelist and diary writer, Evelyn Waugh [whom I always believed was a woman for some reason] provided for me, a fascinating insight into the world of writers, publishing and books in general.

    [Incidentally, I don’t have any of Waugh’s novels, but do have a massive volume of his life’s Diaries, which admittedly, I’ve not yet tried to tackle!!].

    In addition to the actual letters, there are footnotes on most pages. Providing either a brief biography of the person to whom he is writing, or where it was known why he was writing in particular instances. These notes of course do slow down the reading process, but are an invaluable aid to understanding [usually] the purpose of the letter and Greene’s connection with the recipient.

    Grahame Greene himself notes that – There have been a number of Graham Greene biographies, but none has captured his voice, his loves, hates, family and friends–intimate and writerly–or his deep understanding of the world, like this astonishing collection of letters…………………………………………………………………..
    Graham Greene is one of the few modern novelists who can be called great. In the course of his long and eventful life (1904—1991), he wrote tens of thousands of letters to family, friends, writers, publishers and others involved in his various interests and causes. A Life in Letters presents a fresh and engrossing account of his life, career and mind in his own words.

    In summary a comment from Google.books provides another encouraging description of the book  –  ‘In several letters, the individuals, events or places described provide the inspiration for characters, episodes or locations found in his later fiction. The correspondence describes his travels in Mexico, Africa, Malaya, Vietnam, Haiti, Cuba, Sierra Leone, Liberia and other trouble spots, where he observed the struggles of victims and victors with a compassionate and truthful eye. The volume includes a vast number of unpublished letters to authors Evelyn Waugh, Auberon Waugh, Anthony Powell, Edith Sitwell, R.K. Narayan and Muriel Spark, and to other more notorious individuals such as the double-agent Kim Philby. Some of these letters dispute previous assessments of his character, such as his alleged anti-Semitism or obscenity, and he emerges as a man of deep integrity, decency and courage. Others reveal the agonies of his romantic life, especially his relations with his wife, Vivien Greene, and with one of his mistresses, Catherine Walston. The letters can be poignant, despairing, amorous, furious or amusing, but the sheer range of experience contained in them will astound everyone who reads this book.’

    While from the book cover – “When he loved, he loved fervently, but he also struggled  to manage the  unpredictable mood swings, the highs and lows of bipolar disorder that drove him from exalted happiness to despair. Letters to friends like Evelyn Waugh, Muriel Spak, Anthony Powell and R.K. Narayan offer a glimpse 

    into the literary culture in which he wrote. Other letters reveal the agonies of his heart, how his manic depression wreaked havoc on his marriage to Vivien Greene and injured his relations with his mistress Catherine Walston.”

    A book that gives new perspective to a life that combined literary achievement, political action, espionage, travel and romantic entanglement….following him through joy and turmoil, from the gnarled and fissured forests of Indo-China to war-torn Sierra Leone, from the mountains of Switzerland to hotels in Havana and a connection of sorts with leaders like Fidel Castro, and various revolutionary characters from South America.

    The letters also reveal much about his support at times, and other times, conflict with the Catholic Church, and his inter-action with a couple of the Popes of his era, and other religious intermediaries.

    A brief comment on The Honorary Consul by Grahame Greene [published in 1973, of 268 pages [my Penguin edition].  After having read Greene’s letters, I expected his novels to be essentially based on parts of the world he had travelled to, often with the purpose of exploring those areas and lifestyles for incorporation into a planned novel. I wasn’t sure what to expect, not having read him previously.  This story, I found somewhat enjoyable, if at times, realistically unpleasant in terms of the subject matter.

    A gripping tragicomedy of a bungled kidnapping in a provincial Argentinean town, considered to be one of Greene’s finest novels. The story is set in the provincial city of Corrientes, part of the Argentine Littoral, on the shore of the Paraná River. Eduardo Plarr is an unmarried medical doctor of English descent who, as a boy, fled to Buenos Aires with his Paraguayan mother to escape the political turmoil of Paraguay. His English father remained in Paraguay as a political rebel and, aside from a single hand-delivered letter, they never hear from him again. Throughout the novel, there is much reflection by various characters on the absence of ‘father figures’ for numerous reasons. I believe the story is also set on the eve of Argentine’s ‘dirty War’ in the early 1970’s.

    In this provincial Argentinian community, Charley Fortnum – a British consul with dubious authority and a notorious fondness for drink – is kidnapped by rebels in a case of mistaken identity. Fortnum, 61 years old is married to Clara, a young ex-whore from Senora Sanchez’s brothel. The young but world-weary Doctor Eduardo Plarr, is left to pick up the pieces and secure Fortnum’s release, wading through a sea of incompetence and unearthing corruption among authorities and revolutionaries in the process.

    First published in 1973, The Honorary Consul is a British thriller novel, and  was one of Greene’s own favourites of his works and is regarded amongst his finest novels, with Plarr perhaps the most moving and convincing figure in his fiction.  The story is set in an unnamed city in northern Argentina, near the border with Paraguay which can be assumed to be the city of Corrientes.

    In what is described as a ‘perfectly executed narrative’, Greene explores the repercussions of the bungled kidnap, and gives special attention to Dr Plarr whose deficient emotions form the heart of the story.

    While I won’t go into the article itself, a piece written on a site named literarysum/com and titled ‘Unveiling the Layers: A Comprehensive Literary Analysis of The Honorary Consul by Graham Greene’, introduced the subject as follows – ‘The Honorary Consul by Graham Greene is a complex novel that delves into the themes of love, betrayal, and political intrigue. This article provides a comprehensive literary analysis of the novel, exploring its various layers and uncovering the hidden meanings behind its characters and plot. Through a close examination of the novel’s themes, symbolism, and narrative structure, this article aims to provide readers with a deeper understanding of Greene’s masterpiece’ which all indicates we have more than just a ‘British thriller novel’, another indication of Greene’s literary talents.

    As described at the time of publication, by the Daily Mail: ‘The prose is monkishly spare and taut.  The minor characters are brilliantly and sardonically drawn, that ever he has given us’. It sounds as though I made the right choice, in being introduced to Greene’s writings [apart from his letters].

    The book was made into the 1983 film The Honorary Consul (also released as Beyond the Limit), directed by John Mackenzie, with Richard Gere as Plarr and Michael Caine as Fortnum.[3][4] The soundtrack theme was composed by Paul McCartney and performed by John Williams.

  • The Coachbuilder’s Column: Volume 15: Issue 6: 26th February 2025:  ‘the belburd’ by Nardi Simpson, a 2024 release

    I purchased this book from QBD in Melton a few days ago – “The Belburd’ by Nardi Simpson, published in 2024, of 310 pages, a very different piece of reading in terms of my reading diet!

    Described in a way which was unlikely to attract me to this book initially – as a lyrical and masterfully woven novel about women, creation, belonging and the precious fragility of a life – yet something about the promotional material written about it and the author herself prompted a purchase a few days ago when I was seeking out something lighter. Yes, it was that, read in a few hours over a couple of days, though still not sure if I can say I actually enjoyed it!!
    Another description applied to this book – ‘the belburd is a powerful story that shows us we are all connected from before we began to long after we begin again’.
    Let’s examine the basic storyline first – Ginny Dilboong is a young poet, fierce and deadly. She’s making sense of the world and her place in it, grappling with love, family and the spaces in which to create her art. Like powerful women before her, Ginny hugs the edges of waterways, and though she is a daughter of Country, the place that shapes her is not hers. Determined and brave, Ginny seeks to protect the truth of others while learning her own. The question is how? And, all the while, others are watching. Some old, some new. They are the sound of the belburd as it echoes through the world; the sound of cars and trucks and trains. They are in trees and paper and the shape of ideas. They are the builder and the built. Everything, even Ginny, is because of them.

    What does that actually tell us? As a young Indigenous poet, Ginny writes her poems, then sprinkles the paper on which they are written with water [from a bottle she usually carries with her or from any other sources of dampness she can find at the time] and then buries the poem on which they are written in soil or under a rock etc – and those various locations are her publishing house, which off the cuff when asked, she called ‘Dreamtime Books’.
    The second ‘description’ mentioned above – well that forms the basis of the other part of this story which are supposedly connected – yet I found it difficult to describe both that connection, and the actual nature of that other part of the book? Books + Publishing says – ‘’The most beautiful montage of life and death . . . The Belburd will leave you with a lasting appreciation of place, nature and life itself’ – while other promotors, book sellers, etc write – ‘The Belburd is a powerful story that shows us we are all connected from before we began to long after we begin again’.

    I found a review in the Arts Hub internet site summary to be the best way to place the foregoing into some kind of perspective: From November 2024. Barrina South writes:
    “The Belburd is the long-awaited second novel for celebrated Yuwaalaraay author and musician, Nardi Simpson. The novel explores what it means to belong, and is told through two story threads that loop and twist throughout. The first thread is when we are introduced to Ginny, an inner Sydney Blak poet. The second is a more universal story exploring life – from birth to death.
    Ginny’s story focuses on what it is to connect with Country that isn’t yours, how to navigate life after a broken relationship, plus the day-to-day challenges of being Blak. Her narrative also touches on the deep sadness Aboriginal people feel when we witness the impact of the urban sprawl on Country and the cultural responsibility to take care of it.
    The second story focuses on Sprite, an egg, who is waiting to be placed by Eel Mother, to be born. Sprite’s wish eventually comes true and, when transplanted, Sprite spends the gestation period pondering on what both birth and life will be like.
    Sprite and Ginny share a common story – to become what they want to be and to feel a sense of belonging.
    Simpson is a lyrical, magical weaver of words who encourages the reader to read with not only their eyes, but with their whole body. This is evident when introduced to Eel Mother. The visceral imagery of this character will make you feel as though you too are safe and protected in her folds, cradled on the moving currents and captivated by her shimmering colours.
    In part three, ‘The Ground’ contrasts with the world of Sprite and Eel Mother, moving as it does, to the New South Wales colony and into the present. It is in this section we learn the fate of Dilboong (the Eora word for Manorina melanophrys – the bellbird) and that of her mother, Barangaroo. Here the reader reflects on the impact of building a city like Sydney, which causes injuries and wounds to Country, disrupting a sense of place.
    [South has a couple of criticisms too, which I had to agree in particular with the connection factor]
    There were times reading The Belburd where I didn’t feel sufficiently guided by the author through complex themes with confidence. By the end the two stories felt jarring, unravelling from each other. The novel would have also benefited from the inclusion of images of Dilboong, and both Barangaroo and Bennelong, two seminal figures in the history of the NSW colony, and one of the first black love stories of modern Australia. A map to point out key places mentioned in the stories also would have been useful, especially for those not familiar with Sydney.
    A slightly more revealing review comes from ‘Readings’ Teddy Peak where he writes:
    “The Belburd is a story of The Dreaming and of dreaming, of creation and of motherhood. Nardi Simpson weaves together two threads of experience: the story of Ginny, a blak poet recovering from loss, who is trying to contend with poetry, publishing, storytelling and tradition; and, second, of being and non-being, the experiences from before you’re born and after you die. Here, Simpson’s focus is both universal and localised, considering the infinite nature of being, both within and outside a human life.
    Despite this metaphysicality, The Belburd is deeply grounded, deeply relatable. Ginny lives on Gadigal land, a familiar landscape with familiar people. She goes to poetry readings and is affronted by university students who tell her to post the event on social media for likes, she goes to garage sales and meets her neighbours for the first time after years of living next to each other, she goes to her local café and simplifies her name for the barista.
    The other being, whom we know as ‘Sprite’ and as ‘Splat’ and a series of other names, also has universal experiences, even if they are not ones we remember – Sprite waits with the ‘Eel mother’ to be conceived, then spends months in their mother’s uterus imagining what it will be like to be born. Both Sprite and Ginny are trying to become people, become themselves, unbecome the parts of themselves they do not like.
    With a lyrical mastery only further cultivated since her debut, Song of the Crocodile, Simpson finds the sublime in the quotidian, elevating experiences (as base as being born or dying, as complex as grief or motherhood) to an art form. She shows that life is a series of becomings, experienced by humans and animals and the world alike – we all become together”
    To me, a final intriguing end to the second aspect of the story – the ‘baby’ Sprite describes her experience as she is born [and borne] through her mother’s birth canal – which sequence we return to a few months later, where Sprite [and also her mother it seems] has died, and she now describes that phase of death as her body disintegrates into ash and nothingness, in the soil of her grave, intermingles with various insects, and then various building materials etc, as a bridge is constructed over the river in which we first met her – reading from page 295 in Chapter 41:

    “The me that was fashioned into an arch is so deep a grey that I appear black. My darkness sparkles with winks of silver, as if a million stars are trapped inside my colour. And of course they are. Stars and paint and melted rock and rust. I am all of it. Stardust and steel……Being made into a bridge and painstakingly pierced together over the great waterway means I can see it all. I look through my foundations and cradle time in my hands. Just as I easily peer into future sunrises. My view from here is endless………………All I loved are in my breath and I am in theirs. When they eat at their fires, I am with them in the flames and the smouldering coals that embrace them. I am in the water they drink and the words they speak, and the dreams they make at night. And not just theirs. I am in everything, old and new. I am the sound of the belburd as it rings through the world. I am the cars and trucks and trains. I am the birds with jet engines. I am trams and sand that has been heated into the glass of your windows and computer screens and mobile phones. I am the concrete and metal of all the new pathways, bridges and overpasses, tunnels and causeways, and I am the rock that is moved and sold to make them. I am in trees and paper and the shape of ideas. I am words and ink and have been waiting so that you should know. No longer am I a sprite. Or a spit or splat. Or a scatter of ash. I am heiress. Your mistress. The builder and built. Everything you have and see in this place is because of me. I am the universe, the belburd. Everything, even you, is because of me”.

    As Books + Publishing states “The Belburd will leave you with a lasting appreciation of place, nature and life itself: – I’m still struggling to get my head around that!!
    .