Australia Day Books

If you read all the 'reviews' above as well as the 'reveiws' from the two literary review publishers at the top, you will see that no one really has an easy time with this book. I found it on the whole to be a kind of literary bordello since most of the writers couldn't resist including a lot of sex. But the real merit of this book may be not on a literary level. It weighs heavier really as a kind of social experiement -asking males in a male-dominated world to take on a female identity. One mark of how seemingly universally awkward it was is that perhaps the author with the biggest reputation in the collection ends up having a dog perform sex on 'herself'. Confusion or wild creativity? Art over editorial directive? Or wanting to one up the idea of a male taking on a female identity by exercizing the authorial consternation of trying to be even more outre? The majority of the offerings do reflect however that the authors were putting a lot of serious thought in to how to carry off the assignment well, with a high level of craft, and to deliver something satisfying. But this isn't a book that is going to meet with an easy acceptance, not in the societies we currently occupy. The editor professes to see a largely comic bent to the writings. Kirkus review pompously says there is no profundity -like who bequeathed masterful profundidty perception to Kirkus review? By playing the sex and joke cards more often than not, the authors reveal that they are more interested in pandering to what they percieve as the market for this kind of material, so I guess my biggest criticism would be that its weakness is mostly that the authors err on the side of wanting to be entertaining which does not by any means equal out to being good storytellers. Maybe the book can be said to fail on literary merits but it succeeds without much parallel in exposing an uneasiness that is all-pervasive about gender -who controls it, who gets to establish its valuations, who has a right to represent it and in what ways. So the stories may really be more like exercizes in literary discomfort, both on the parts of the authors and certainly the majority of the readers. If you are looking for insightful philosphy about gender this book is, for the most part, the wrong place, there is a torrent of that from academia. And it is that large and continuous output of theory, research, philosphy and social study without which this book most probably would not have been possible. So if you want to read this book do so to find out where we as a society can not quite seem to be comfortably. As both the controllers of our consumption of gender and as those who have to live gender out amongst ourselves. It is profound on that level. And the why of it is left as enough mystery to make this book art. It is out of print. That is just as much proof.

I found this to be a highly literate collection of poems and essays. That is both the book's strength and its biggest weakness. On the one hand, the contributors are experienced, talented authors who know how to write. On the other, especially with the essays, there is less emphasis on story and plot than stories familiar to readers who frequent internet transgender literature sites. I kept waiting for one story that had a memorable character or plot twist. By the end, I was still waiting.

Is this really how men see us? Almost without exception, the protagonists saw their female bodies as "other" and objectified them. They were either turned on by their bodies or disgusted by them. Only one author seemed to actually identify with the woman had had become, having the realization: "Hey! I'm still a human being! women are actually human beings!" Well, duh.

And a horrifying number of the authors actually idenfied as rapists.

This left me feeling depressed at the spiritual integrity of this intelligent group of men. Maybe I should work on becoming a lesbian.

I was hoping this book would have careful, thoughtful and interesting stories from men who would ponder life for one day as a woman. Instead, it is a collection of stories and poems of lame content and items of little interest to the subject matter. Very few of the stories actually DEAL with people transformed into what can be considered physically normal females! I was looking for gender based stories dealing with issue of how men think life would be as women. Perhaps the author would do better to ellicit help from transgendered men who spend the majority of their lives dreaming of what life would be like as a woman and could provide insightful stories of how men can really think of life as women and provide some respectful insight that women could review and discuss. I was horribly disappointed in this book and overall, it was probably the second worst book I have read in my distinguished reading career.

Despite what some other reviewers have written, this book does deal with the subject matter (the perspectives of male writers on the gender identity of women)-- and in most cases, it does so with a great deal of respect.

Upon receiving this book, I immediately threw out the cover art. ^_^ I was ready to read something a bit more thoughtful than the cover art implies, and I found the art to be a distraction. With that out of the way, I was able to enjoy some fascinating short stories and essays written by authors I have never encountered before.

I read this book over the course of several mornings, so I was able to muse upon the points raised in the more thoughtful stories. At the same time, I read Jack Chalker's "The Identity Matrix", which I discovered added depth to Ms. Giles' collection. Taken as a whole, I find that my experiences with these two books have expanded my awareness of the issues women must deal with in Western society. I believe that I learned some valuable lessons, particularly from the Brain Bouldrey story "Monster" and Rick Moody's offering. I name those two because they stand out in recent memory-- but almost all of the stories raised points worth pondering.

Of course, there were a few "brain candy" stories, too-- the ones that seemed to deal mostly with wish-fulfillment and sensual pleasures. But these stories only served to illustrate the points made by other writers in the book. ^_^ It became really obvious which writers were comfortable with exploring the concept of the feminine-- and which ones were more interested in women as objects. As the author notes in her foreword, the majority of the writers were very respectful and thoughtful in regard to feminine identity-- and, I would add, *without* disrespecting their own gender. That was one thing that made this book most enjoyable-- the writers really seemed to think before they wrote.

Overall, I would recommend this book as an enjoyable read and a good starting point for discussions of gender identity. I try to limit my collection of books (makes moving easier), but this is one book that I plan to keep for a while longer, as a source of "food for thought". For those who complained that it objectifies or disrespects women, I respectfully reply, "You get out of it what you put into it."

I read this book during a 2-month working stay in Sydney, with only a basic prior knowledge of Australian history. The book is well written, easy to read, with a good balance of the 'macro' socio-political historical thread and anecdotal sections of individual 'ordinary' people that bring the book to life.
Not a dry, unattached account, the book is certainly not free of the author's own political slant, which becomes progressively more intrusive through the second half of the book. Knightly demonstrates a strong bias toward the Australian Labor Party, and contracts sharply their achievements with the shortcomings (as he sees them) of the 'Liberal' centre-right. A strong sense of patriotism (but not nationalism) flows through the book, but the book takes a distinctly anti-British flavour in the latter chapters culminating in a cringing list of achievements that attempt (desparately, some cases) prove Australia is 'better' than Britain in every cultural domain (did any Aussie read this and not feel embarrassed?).
But don't let any of this put you off. The book greatly enhanced my stay in Australia and I would highly recommend it to anyone who wants to better understand this amazing country.

Far too many history books are deadly dry, a compilation of facts and dates that often leave out the human element and with little sense of drama. This book does not fall into that trap, being something of a mix of memoir, short vignettes of many, many people, both famous and ordinary, and the more normal recounting of the happenings of history. Often the people stories are insightful, sometimes humorous, and do much to help illustrate Knightley's main thesis of just what an Australian really is.

The downside of this method of narration is that it is easy to lose objectivity, something I'm afraid Knightley is guilty of in at least a few places. His political bias is very much in evidence throughout this book, most glaringly in his depiction of the various Prime Ministers and the battles between the working man and the rich landholders/business executives. At the same time, his depiction of the items that have gone into the making of the essential Australian character is well told, forming a mosaic of events and people that put this character into clear focus. Having lived in Australia myself (a very long time ago, but I don't think there has been any basic change in this item since), I can testify that the traits of wishing everyone to 'have a fair go' and mateship really do seem to be defining items of that character.

One item that would definitely have improved this book would have been the inclusion of some maps of the country. Unless one is intimately aware of the geography of this continent-country, the references to literally hundreds of place names and towns can be daunting without some way to place them spatially. I would have also liked to see a little greater treatment of the early period of its settlement, as the emphasis of this book is very much the twentieth century, and even more so on the last half of that century. Often the narration is told from the strictly political point of view, with little reference to the great resource finds and their development that had quite an influence on how Australia developed.

On the other hand, Knightley does a very good job of portraying and documenting the treatment that the Aborigines have been subjected to, from the earliest settlements to the latest landmark court decisions dealing with their land rights. More than any other item, this one area shows just how much Australia has changed from a blatantly racist and xenophobic nation to one that has at least begun to recognize its past failings and find its place in a truly multi-cultural world.

--- Reviewed by Patrick Shepherd (hyperpat)

I know little about Australia and this book seems designed for people like me. An Aussie would probably find it too elementary; but for the average American it's pitched at the level of ignorance most of us have about the big country down under.

This is a social history. The subjects the author covers include the aborigines, the relationship with Great Britain, the World Wars, racism and social change, and contemporary politics, including the "special relationship" with the United States. It's all written in entertaining and easy to understand prose that will satisfy a casual interest in the country. The focus is on the 20th century and the author, born about 1930, appears as a minor character is some chapters.

The author searches for Australian character which he finds in what he calls (unconvincingly) "collectivism" and (more persuasively) "fairness." He also discusses the concept of "mateship" which is so important in Australia. He tries to emphasize the differences between the national character of Australia and the United States -- but frankly I was more impressed by the similarities. The Australian treatment of their aboriginal population mirrors our own, white racism, the debate about social policies, the "red scare" in the 1950s, and the Whitlaw government's version of LBJ's "Great Society" all sounded familiar to me. Australian and American history seem to echo each other.

My principal criticism is that there are no maps although the author mentions many place names that are unfamiliar to the non-Aussie.

Smallchief

As another reviewer has noted, the ending of this book is not "realistic"...but that's perhaps one goal of the novel: Lily wants one whole and perfect day and she finally gets it in the end after a whole truckload of family dysfunction--a father who abandoned her even before she was born, an artsy-fartsy brother who can't stick to anything, a soft-hearted mother who relies on Lily to be the sensible one while she, a psychologist, rescues "lame-duck" elderly people whose families want a break from them, an apparently racist red-necked grandfather, and a grandmother with an imaginary friend! This is a delightful novel full of quirky characters and fine writing. All of the members of this extended family surprise each other in some way and have hidden aspects which briefly sparkle and shine forth. One does have to suspend one's disbelief to enjoy the novel perhaps, but if one does, the rewards are considerable. I think the book might be more appealing to older young adult females and women in general as it's character rather than plot-driven. This is one of the best written pieces of fiction I've read in some time. Reading it made me consider if I've ever had a whole and perfect day and what such a day would consist of for me.

One Whole and Perfect Day is a pleasant story about a wish that Lily has that her dysfunctional family have "one whole and perfect day." Her grandmother is planning a party hoping to reconcile her grandmother and her brother. Her brother has a new Chinese girlfriend that no one has met. Her mother has promised not to bring home any more elderly people for the weekend, yet is tempted to break her promise. This story's main flaw is the happy ending that is too perfect and too coincidental to be real.

Well well well, I fully expected to find a five star reader rating here. I guess I forgot that these types of different, forward-thinking books polarize people so much. I too have seen Aboriginals in Northern Arnhem Land as well as in the pub in Katherine, and I am sure that many Americans have seen drunken Indians wandering zig-zagged down the side of the road. We can all see what have become of these cultures since being raped, pillaged and tempted by European settlers. They stood not a chance - even the Aboriginal communities that did not want any "aid" from the Australian government were forced to take it - and became addicted to refined wheat, sugar and a new 'easy' way of life. Talk about the Sirens' calling sailors to their deaths. Alcohol has had the most devastating affect on their lives of all our influences. It is interesting to note that kava is strictly illegal in Australia: This is a easily grown root that can be crushed and drunk to produce a mellow high, and does not induce the same ill-effects to Aborigines as alcohol.

Anyways, Lawlor talks of pre-contact Aboriginal culture. If he wanted to do a book on post-contact culture, derrrrr, it would be a different book.

The book that he has written is packed with insight and the information provided within is the sort of stuff that could change your life if you just stay open to it. You may not agree with all of it but it doesn't make the rest a lot of baloney. I have just finished reading it a second time and there is just soooo much to this book. Yes it has been compared with Mutant Message (which I didn't like at all) but this is the real deal. I don't want to be too effusive but it has changed the way I perceive the world on a daily basis.

To all the nay-sayers: there must have been something in that culture to have not self-imploded after tens of thousands of years. It is always hard to loosen the grip on a static world view that we have held onto so tightly - even when it is increasingly obvious that it no longer works.

To realize that all we think we know is in truth metaphor; to conceive of the lovely, intimate metaphor that we are one of infinitely varied, harmonic vibrations emanating from an earth that in turn emanates the Divine; to live this way. What a gift this book is!

Now this is a book i would recommend:
Yorro Yorro: Aboriginal Creation and the Renewal of Nature : Rock Paintings and Stories from the Australian Kimberley by David Mowaljarlai and Jutta Malnic (Paperback - Sep 1993)

I have had my copy for thirteen years now, and, since the first time I read it, I have called it my Bible. This book has helped me to summon up lost teachings of my own souls journey, and has helped me to find my truth.
As far as the people who gave it poor reviews, I guess they don't connect to the true, raw wisdom that Lawlor has to offer.

I bought this book not long after it was first published in 1991. I was attracted to the book because the form and binding looked good and I didn't have any books about Australian Aborigines yet. As far as appearances go, the book looks great. Nice division in chapters, wonderful illustrations.
OK, now it gets tricky because I am going to review the contents. The author is indeed a person that can write. However the book is filled with well formulated sentences as "The landscape of Aboriginal Australia mirrored a living organism" that are vague in the extreme. The author makes a division in that everything about the Aborigines (where traditionally girls are raped at age 14) is good and everything about Western society is bad. This division might be ok in a cowboy movie, but that doesn't prevent Lawlor drawing heavily on the evil sciences of the West.
Lawlor idolizes the civilisation of Ancient Egypt and connects Aboriginal myth with theories about magnetic forces. This is done in with sentences like "Indigenous people believe..." and "some scientists have recently found evidence..." that must draw the reader into his stream of thoughts. My biggest problem is that the author is making assumptions on behalf of the Aborigines to which the working of Magnetic forces is completely foreign. The author suggests that a uniform culture existed among the natives (something I doubt is true) and refrains from telling the sad story of their history since Australia's discovery.
After reading through 391 pages the reader is left with little concrete information about the Australian Aborigines, some interesting viewpoints, and a lot of information about the earth's magnetism, Carl Jung, etc.
My conclusion is that this book falls short of its mark. It's more about the Dreaming of the author than the Dreaming of the Aborigines.

I've got to be honest, I've read 6 pages of this book, and this was over the shoulder of someone on the bus this morning.

But that was more than enough

In these pages, 2 people became drug addicts (my grandmother could write a more accurate account of amphetamine addiction), one became HIV positive, and went to a dentist. I was shocked at the content and at the thought that a seemingly normal young lady could be reading what i assumed was some fundamentalist christian propaganda wrapped up as a light romance novel. When I saw the cover, and consequently the author, I was shocked.

I am, by no means a Bryce Courtenay fan, but I did read "The power of one" when i was about 10 at my grandparents on holidays and seem to remember it as being more appealing than spending time with my family. But this book (based on those six pages) is so incredibly awful that it prompted my to write a review of it on amazon. I was so appalled at the content I had to check myself to ensure I didn't snatch it out of the readers hands and rip it into pieces.

Bryce Courtenay, I hope you meant well by this, but you have produced nothing but pointless poorly written fluff.

I was amazed that the person below thought to put a review in for a book he hasn't read.
From the Dymocks web site's description of the book gives a more accurature description. "Bryce Courtney's beloved son Damon, a haemophiliac, died from medically-acquired AIDS on Aprils Fool's day 1991, at the age of 24."

Damon did not chose to have haemophilia, he didn't chose to have blood transfusions and he didn't chose to get HIV. Drugs addiction is not an issue here. It is about a disease caught by no fault of the victim.

I can't believe this book is out of print, it should be required reading for medical students. Although the medical information here is (thankfully) out of date, I can say from first hand experience (UK) that there are still plenty of ignorant, arrogant people working in the medical "profession". That Bryce Courtney found the strength to put his book together is quite amazing, though no doubt a lot of it was driven by justifiable anger and bitterness. Whilst I know a lot about the gay side of Aids, I was fairly unaware of what haemophiliacs have been through, though it is now common knowledge that they were well and truly screwed by governments and health systems in many countries. Bryce Courtney's testament to "the mighty Damon", his son, is constantly heartbreaking, whilst never sinking into sentimentality. I do hope this book will be reprinted at some point, ideally with an update on the current medical situation, for the benefit of any readers who may be in the Courtney family's position and being kept in the dark by their doctors. Whilst Aids is no longer the death sentence it was, books like this are very, very important in the fight for compassion and understanding that still goes on in this terrible war. May the Courtney family find peace.

I had real trouble with this one. I loved "The Power of One", and hated "Tandia", so I was hoping that "April Fool's Day" would show me whether Bryce Courtenay was a wonderful writer or whether "The Power of One" was a one-off. It did neither. The only thing that it did do for me was explain why "Tandia" was so awful -- working under strict publishing deadlines while his child is extremely ill must have been extremely upsetting.

On the one hand, I applaud Mr. Courtenay for publishing such a personal experience, as I don't know whether I could be as frank as he has been in front of an unknown audience. It certainly would make interesting reading for health-care professionals who treat terminally ill people (not just those with HIV/AIDS/ARC).

On the other hand, the story didn't grab me by the heart. I didn't find Damon particularly heroic, even though I realize that he went through hell for most of his life between the haemophilia and HIV. He was a man who had a pre-existing condition, contracted a disease and lived with and died from the disease. He is no different from anyone who has cancer or any other terminal illness, nor is he different from any other person who consistently has been discriminated against. His story's a personal tragedy, but I didn't get the feeling of the awful things that happened to him a community tragedy... what happened to him is called "life".

Mr. Courtenay gets full marks for detail and poignancy. At times, I did feel that I was going through the process with the Courtenay family... and that made finishing the novel difficult. For example, I thought that I didn't want to go to the hospital AGAIN several times throughout my reading of the book. I liked the depictions of Damon's interactions with his family and caregivers and how Damon addressed obstacles in his treatment as both patient and person.

By the same token, the book was almost too detailed and repetitious in places, leaving me to wonder if I really cared if Damon made it to the next chapter. This also had the result of my feeling like Mr. Courtenay's counsellor/psychotherapist in many places throughout the book, which irritated me.

I'm not sure what to think about this book. It's definitely not a light read, and has some good points, but I don't think that it's one of Mr. Courtenay's must-reads. I'll have to read the next Courtenay book to make my decision on what kind of writer he is.

Bryce Courtenay has shared with us not only the life but the death of his beloved son from Aids in this warm,real ,sad yet beautiful book.It's not only about the experience of losing a loved one,but it also lets us know just how real the disease is...no matter how it is acquired.Bryce's son tragically contracted the virus via blood transfusions needed for his Haemophilia(a blood disorder).This book not only tells us of the courage of young Damien,but also of the power of love his family and girlfriend showed.It also hits on the prejudice and discimination experienced by those with the HIV and makes you realize that that approach is neither necassary nor right. This book is a must for everybody.....It left me breathless,tearful yet stronger.

Following on from THE LIFE AND CRIMES OF HARRY LAVENDER, the book that introduced tough Sydney private investigator Claudia Valentine comes this second book in the series, THE CASE OF THE CHINESE BOXES. It's now 1988, the year of Australia's Bicentennial and there's a lot of celebrating going on. But the National Australia Bank aren't celebrating. They've just been knocked over in one of the biggest, most daring robberies in Australia's history and the fall-out is about to land in Claudia's lap. Like the first book it's a traditional PI story that starts out with few leads before careful digging unearths an unexpected twist and some villains not happy with the attention.

Claudia is hired by Charles Chen and his mother Victoria to recover a lost key that had been stolen from a bank safe deposit box during a recent daring bank robbery. The key is particularly ornate and apparently opens some traditional Buddhist Chinese Boxes, but more importantly, is a symbol of the family's power and standing in the community. This case will not only take Claudia out of her comfort zone and into the underworld dominated by the dangerous Chinese Triads who rule Chinatown, but it will also take her to parts of Sydney that she never knew existed and, for her own safety, perhaps wished she still didn't know.

Not only does Claudia have to contend with an unknown enemy who, at one point, thoughtfully slips a warning message inside her fortune cookie, but she finds that she is working for a client who is very unwilling to provide her with any details that might prove helpful in solving the case. Claudia has to resort to some pretty unorthodox investigative methods before she begins to achieve results.

As a consequence, for much of the story we are carried along while waiting for something to happen. Because the case is fairly vague and clues are hard to come by, Claudia - to invoke a relevant metaphor - is left to poke at the dragon in the hope that it might wake and try to bite her. The result is a case that shoots off into a completely unexpected direction dragging an unwilling private investigation along with it.

Many of the characters who were introduced in Harry Lavender returned to assist Claudia with this case too, but author Marele Day didn't think to reintroduce those characters to us. So unless you had just finished the first book or had a particularly good memory, you wouldn't know who these characters were or how they fit into Claudia's life. I had only finished Harry Lavender a month before reading this and I was still struggling to recall who some of the vaguely familiar characters were.

A delightful addition to the story is Hong Kong based visitor James Ho, a flirtatious nuisance who quickly becomes the bane of Claudia's life with his unexpected appearances and amusingly obvious suggestions. Claudia's annoyance and discomfort around Ho provides for some lighter moments in an otherwise dangerous and serious case. But Ho is also the holder of some of the more tantalising secrets in this story and proves to be an exceptional private investigator in his own right.

This is an intriguing investigation that displays Claudia Valentine's ingenuity and dogged determination. She takes us on a visit into Sydney's Chinese community, faces down a Triad member or two, makes contact with the most talked about bank robber in the country and crosses swords with a visiting P.I.

The setting-Sydney,especially its less public face-helps set this novel apart from the competitors in the women PI market.Otherwise it is capable,moderately enjoyable but not terribly distinctive.
Narrated ,as before,by Claudia Valentine,a charcter with obvious affinities to other women investigators-tall,feisty,independent-the tale takes place for the most part in the city,s Chinatown.Claudia is hired by the redoutable Mrs Chen to trace an antique key stolen during the course of a major bank robbery.She does not get a clear run at the case however as James Ho,a Hong Kong based private eye,is also searching for the key believing it to be the key to boxes containing priceless religious artefacts.The case takes her into the world of the Triads,and soon comes to involce drug trafficing and protection racketeering
The fate of the key soon assumes a secondary role in a plot which soon comes to revolve around the kidnapping of Mrs Chen's grandchild by Triad members.
The Chinese characters are somewhat stereotypically depicted and the portarait of the role of organised crime in Australia,notably its immigration policy,will not please the nation's tourist or PR people.
Strong sense of place,lively plot and decent action but a bit routine
Recommended as a break from the American-UK writers who dominate the genre

Rupert vs. Ted! Ted vs. Rupert! Great, easy to read narrative of the most modern media battle. If you want to know about the ideology and shenanigans behind Mr. Fair & BalancedTM, this is the book.

This is ok but we were looking for something reflecting a more modern Western Australia - hard to come by!

I thought I would like this book...but alas. I didn't find it that suspenseful. Just sort of confusing, but not in the good way. Frankly I was bored. Maybe I was just in a bad mood back when I read it? Blah. I'll try the book another reviewer recommended.

Little about this book is appealing, from the title to the cover art to the typeface. The plot (a group of friend with complicated relationships go to Melbourne for a Saturday night out on the town) is the vehicle for Vinny to become separated from the group. They worry a bit, panic by Sunday and are hysterical when he arrives home on Monday. The twist? Vinny thinks it is still Sunday.
The novel is split - the first half is a series of vignettes. Each friend recalls some past incident or ponders his or her current life situation as s/he looks for Vinny. The second half is Vinny's version of his disappearance. The reader can infer that he was drugged, kidnapped, and possibly abused, but the truth is muddled. An unsatisfying and confusing read. For a book on a similar topic, try When Jeff Comes Home by Catherine Atkins.

When your think of going clubbing with your friends, you usually don't think your routine would be any different than any other Saturday night. Vinny and Jasper were doing what they usually do on a Saturday night and unexpectantly, things went terribly wrong. Vinny and Jasper were swarmed by a enormous crowd on their way home. Jasper turned around, only to find that Vinny was nowhere to be found. Jasper and his friends became very worried but decided to go to the place they went to when they were drunk. When they found that Vinny wasn't there, they became even more worried. They notified Vinnys mother and she notifies his girlfriend. The worrying only gets worse. Vinny didn't come home Saturday night and didn't show up for work on Sunday, That's not like Vinny, so everyone was really puzzled as to what might have happened. Later on Sunday night, Vinny returns home and still thinks it's Saturday. he doesn't know what has happened to him and he is very confused. If I told you the rest, I would be giving away the ending, so I guess that just means your have to read the book. Personally, I think the book was boring and went very slowly. If the pacing would have been faster, the book would have kept my attention and I would have liked it more.

Saturday nights in Melbourne aren't just ordinary nights where you would just stay home and watch TV or do some homework, especially when you were nineteen. Well in Jasper's and Vinny's case Saturday night in Melbourne was a clubbing night. Where the coolest place to be was in King St where all the pubs and clubs were. Jasper and Vinny had been legally clubbing for a year now and where experienced in the area, not like when they first started clubbing at about the age of 17 and wore heaps of aftershave to make themselves older and mature. They knew the tricks of the trade, and which were the best clubs to go to and just how much aftershave to wear. But this Saturday night was no ordinary night. As vinny was getting ready to go out he had a starnge feeling that something was not quite right that night. On ordinary Saturday nights they would be out and return home a Jacks place at about 5 o'clock Sunday morning too drunk to go home so they found themselves commonly waking up at Jacks place on his couch with a hangover. No, this Saturday was different. Vinny didn't return home!

Jasper had just turned his back for a moment outside the hanging gardens club and his best mate Vinny has disappeared. He Had vanished in a street of lights and clubs and cars and crowds of teenagers going home. He was no where to be seen. That Sunday when Vinny did not return home or show up for work, his family and friends began to worry. By sunday afternoon Vinny was a missing person.

In this book "the lost day" Judith Clarke writes depicting Melbourne's saturday nightlife and the dangers behind all the glamor. The story is about a nineteen-year-old teenager who goes missing one Saturday after a night out in the clubs and pubs of Melbourne. It was no ones fault Vinny went missing that night , but no onw knew where he went . His family and friends showed their emotional and scared side and feared that Vinny wasn't going to return home at all and the possibility kept creeping into their minds that something terrible happened to him and that he could even be dead!

While Jeff Wells does an excellent job capturing the tenor of the times he does Tommy Burns a grave disservice in treating him as the bad guy of his story, and Johnson the great hero. Burns could have done what previous holders of the heavyweight championship had done, and flatly refused to give Johnson a shot at the title. But, unlike the others, he allowed Johnson, a black man, his big chance. It was Johnson who turned his back on his race and denied similar opportunities to Sam Langford, Joe Jeannette, and Sam McVea. Jack Johnson was a talented fighter, but not much of a human being.

A couple of weeks ago I was invited over to Lyle's house for dinner for some weird Canadian holiday called "Boxing-Day". When Lyle first called me and asked if I wanted to come over I was a little hesitant to make myself public again because I might have to talk about the Jack-Russell-Terrier. After listening to that Dog-Rat bark over and over, I decided it was in my best interest to go over to Lyle's and regain some of my sanity that the Jack-Russell-Terrier has been stripping away from me since it's un-holy insulting arrival to MY house. I called Lyle back and told him I'd be there ONLY if no-one would mention the Jack-Russell-Terrier or Morris (unless of course they had found him).

After I hung up the phone with Lyle, I realized that I did-not know anything about this Canadian-custom of Boxing-Day. Since both mom and Dad were home I was unable to go on Dad's "golden" computer and research it, so I had to research it in my head and on Home-Box-Office's-boxing-show. As I watched two guys in a ring punch each-other merciless for a while, Dad walked in and started talking at me about something or another, so I just went up to my room and closed the door. Doesn't he know I don't want to speak with him due to his treachery against Morris?

As I sat in my room I wrote down the things I noticed about watching the boxing show:

Boxing Gloves
Robe
Shorts
Angry-Faces

Due to my time limit I was forced to prepare my outfit for the Boxing-Day celebration quickly. I snuck into Mom's room and grabbed a robe that closely resembled what the gladiators wore to the ring. There was a problem though. I noticed some loop in it that said some-thing about some-one named Victoria, I ripped at it until it came off, tearing a hole in the robe in the proccess. I was upset with the robe at first, but I figured that the hole probably made it look like I've used it before in other Boxing-Day celebrations. I wanted to fit in.

Now with that taken care of I ran to the basement to get my boxing-gloves that I use on my Sock'em-Bop-Buddy inflatable punching-man. I wanted to make sure I still had some of my old moves, so I punched at it for a while (mental note: tape picture of the Jack-Russell-Terrier to it when I'm done with this review). I snuck past Mom and Dad to return to my room to grab a pair of addias-soccer-shorts. I'm pretty sure Lyle and his family won't mind, due to me being American and all, and not having a real pair of boxer-shorts. I put the outfit on. I looked pretty good for a First-Time-Boxing-Day-Rocky. I looked over my list again, and noticed I still needed the angry-face to complete the out-fit. I stared at my mirror until it was time to go, practicing my angry-face. MAN did I make some angry-faces! You should have seen them! Watch this, I'm gonna make one now! GRRRRRRRRRRR! AAArrrrrrrrRRR! Oh man, you guys should see this! ARARARARRRRR! Now THAT was a good one! Okay, here I go watch---Oh yeah, the review. Anyways, I threw my coat over the out-fit so Mom and Dad wouldn't want to take my picture, or some other weird parent thing.

When I arrived at Lyle's, (oh yeah, for my fans knowledge, it's really hard to drive with Boxing-Gloves on), any-who, back on track. When I arrived at Lyle's I walked in and threw off my coat to show them my Boxing-Day out-fit. I thought they would be really impressed with my respect for their culture. They sat there wide-eyed for a moment, so I thought I would further impress them and I threw out some jabs and a hay-maker style air-punch. Lyle's father and brother started to laugh, Lyle's mom told Lyle to get me some "proper-attire". I followed Lyle to his room confused, I spent all that time on this out-fit to impress them and I got laughed at. Maybe I was too pre-mature, and we would switch after dinner.

Lyle gave me some clothes to put on, and informed me that it wasn't that type of Boxing... He did note he was pleased with my enthusiasm though. We walked down to the dinner-table and Lyle's Dad called me Sugar-Ray for some reason. What the HECK!? Is that how Canadians do Boxing? With verbal-punches? I thought I'd join in and made a comment on his HUGE bald spot. Lyle and Lyle's Mom and Brother laughed. I said "how'd you like that verbal upper-cut?". Then I layed into him with some verbal jabs about his chronic-alcoholism. Lyle's Mom quickly interjected by lecturing me about how Boxing-Day did not have aaaannnyyy-thing to do with Boxing, physical or verbal. She then went on with some snore about church donations and this-and-that. What I thought was a great idea for a holiday, just pulled a one-eighty. For some reason though, Lyle's dad continued to call me Sugar-Ray for the rest of the evening. What the HECK kind of thing is that to call a GUEST in your house!? What's next, Honey-Bottom? Candy-Striper? Cinderella-Man!? He was probably just drunk.

In Conclusion, I blame the turn-out of this evening on my own Dad. Since he doesn't allow me on the computer all that much, it didn't allow me the time to do the proper research. I might have to invest in a book on Canadian customs so this won't happen again. They have this Thanks-Giving prequel type thing that I don't want to get embarrassed about either. Pfffft. Those Canadians LOL! Whatever, leave me alone. My dog ran away and you should stop reading this and go help me find him you lazy Americans. Later.

howardtuttleman.com

As I am not a fan of this journalist, I must admit I was a bit prejudiced when it came to reading this book. Credit where credit is due though, this book is very good. It reveals an insight into the world as it was in the early part of the 20th Century and especially Australia, the scene of the Burns - Johnson World Heavyweight title fight in 1908. The author brings to light the personalities of these two boxers and how the public reacted to these personalities at varying times. Overall it is a well-balanced and entertaining read.