Straight white male writers are out there and thriving
I have long thought that literary prizes should be entered anonymously, ie, the author is not identified by name, gender or sexual orientation. Until this happens there will always be bias, depending on the make-up of the judging panel and the current climate of political correctness. You only have to look at the Demidenko farce. Anonymity would find out whether novels by straight white men are, in fact, any good. Jane Howland, Cammeray
Heaven forbid that women and men of colour should get five minutes' attention as novelists, white men having had the stage for a couple of centuries. As the saying goes, when you are accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression. This might be a good time to remember that the first-ever novel is attributed to Murasaki Shikibu, a Japanese woman writing in the 11th century. Perhaps straight white men could try the strategy long employed by women writers and adopt a pen name. Mary Ann Evans, perhaps? Chris McGregor, Cabarita
Jacqueline Maley might be interested but not surprised to learn that when my husband, Graham, was researching Charmian Clift for his PhD many years ago in our national library, all her files were stored under the name of her husband, George Johnston. I wonder, given the present interest in Charmian, if he is now relegated to second place in her files? Nola Tucker, Kiama
Soft drug lunacy
Catching serious criminals is hard (' Low-level drug users still being charged ', August 10), busting careless potheads or occasional party drug users is easy (it should be called Operation Fish in a Barrel). However, it makes the police feel useful if not actually effective, and it fulfills weekly quotas real or imagined. This is especially silly for a substance that is now medically sanctioned for tens of thousands of Australians. Julian Wood, Marrickville
Reef hope lost
Having just completed a holiday at Exmouth to visit Ningaloo, I can reiterate the heartbreaking destruction of the reef from the recent unprecedented bleaching event (' Race to save Ningaloo', August 10). What is even more heartbreaking is the continued expansion in WA of our fossil fuel export industry. The federal government is being dishonest by saying it is serious about addressing climate change while approving climate bombs all over the country. Also strange is the denial of many of the locals of the relationship between climate change and what is happening to the source of their livelihood. There are hardly any solar panels in an environment of unrelenting sunshine, with diesel generation supplying electricity and widespread support of the gas industry (Santos sponsors many businesses). Moreover, there are plans to dredge Exmouth gulf to open an industrial port. I fear there is little hope for Ningaloo and this unique world heritage area. Peter Gibson, Wentworthville
Rain on parade
I have observed two major Sydney events over the past two Sundays, and they compare and contrast significantly (' Winners and grinners cross the City2Surf finish line ', August 10). Similar rainy Sunday attendances of about 90,000 people. Similar levels of intended decency, ie humanity and charity. Both perfectly peaceful. The differences: The City to Surf's 14 kilometres of traffic interruption over more than six hours was, quite rightly, lauded by all. Last Sunday's bridge march, a couple of kilometres taking five hours, decried by many, including our premier. I perfectly understand that the Sydney Harbour Bridge is an important thoroughfare compared to the leafy eastern roads, but we have closed it for far more frivolous reasons than fundamental humanity. Why the difference, premier? Please explain. Kate Coate, Wangi Wangi
After competing in 49 consecutive rain-free City2Surf races, the inevitable happened: it actually rained during my 50th race. Despite this, the mood of the entrants was upbeat and joyful. Congratulations to all competitors and to the organisers for a memorable race day. Steven Baker, Engadine
Smart study option
Congratulations to the people responsible for making the brave decisions to open Freshwater and Manly libraries as 24-hour venues for teenagers willing to study at odd hours ('Approaching midnight with a venue full of unsupervised teenagers', August 10). At last there is a designated after-hours venue where it really is okay to study, to collaborate until the wee hours, and to have the freedom to be with your mates and comrades outside the home. Congratulations to the students who are making good use of these facilities. Hopefully other venues will give this a go as well. It's a great solution for all sorts of problems faced by students who want to study. Mia David, Wollongong
Learning shared
Parnell Palme McGuinness is dead right when she says 'caring is intrinsically valuable whether it is delivered in the home or outside of it' (' The end of men? Let's end all that', August 10). In my case, as an 87-year-old, my beloved wife supported me for seven years while I studied for my honours arts degree part-time, so it was only fair that she should have the opportunity to study nursing, which she did. She used her student nurse allowance to employ a woman to help with the cooking and cleaning, leaving me to do the traditional male jobs and read stories to our three children. Andrew Macintosh, Cromer
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Sydney Morning Herald
9 hours ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
Straight white male writers are out there and thriving
I am a white male who reads. Most of my friends, male and female, are also avid readers. I find Jacqueline Maley's piece perplexing (' Why will no one publish the novels of straight white men?' August 10). Browsing my local bookstores, I find plenty of terrific modern (straight) white male writers – Chris Hammer and Mick Herron are two very different writers who spring to mind. There are many others too. Writing has never been an exercise in homogeneity. Certainly, the female voice has been stymied, but like so many things in our rapidly evolving society, writing seeks to accommodate new interests, tastes and views on the world. Reading has never been a universal pursuit, but with higher levels of literacy came higher levels of reading. The technological diversions of our world have more to do with declining levels of reading among males, but I think this affects young women too. Perhaps we are experiencing an ebb in the flow of those writing and reading novels; I'm not convinced. The stage is certainly bigger, the cast more diverse. Rather than make generalisations about straight white male writers, Maley could look from the other end of the microscope and see the expanding world of good writing, including from straight white males. Wayne Duncombe, Lilyfield I have long thought that literary prizes should be entered anonymously, ie, the author is not identified by name, gender or sexual orientation. Until this happens there will always be bias, depending on the make-up of the judging panel and the current climate of political correctness. You only have to look at the Demidenko farce. Anonymity would find out whether novels by straight white men are, in fact, any good. Jane Howland, Cammeray Heaven forbid that women and men of colour should get five minutes' attention as novelists, white men having had the stage for a couple of centuries. As the saying goes, when you are accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression. This might be a good time to remember that the first-ever novel is attributed to Murasaki Shikibu, a Japanese woman writing in the 11th century. Perhaps straight white men could try the strategy long employed by women writers and adopt a pen name. Mary Ann Evans, perhaps? Chris McGregor, Cabarita Jacqueline Maley might be interested but not surprised to learn that when my husband, Graham, was researching Charmian Clift for his PhD many years ago in our national library, all her files were stored under the name of her husband, George Johnston. I wonder, given the present interest in Charmian, if he is now relegated to second place in her files? Nola Tucker, Kiama Soft drug lunacy Catching serious criminals is hard (' Low-level drug users still being charged ', August 10), busting careless potheads or occasional party drug users is easy (it should be called Operation Fish in a Barrel). However, it makes the police feel useful if not actually effective, and it fulfills weekly quotas real or imagined. This is especially silly for a substance that is now medically sanctioned for tens of thousands of Australians. Julian Wood, Marrickville Reef hope lost Having just completed a holiday at Exmouth to visit Ningaloo, I can reiterate the heartbreaking destruction of the reef from the recent unprecedented bleaching event (' Race to save Ningaloo', August 10). What is even more heartbreaking is the continued expansion in WA of our fossil fuel export industry. The federal government is being dishonest by saying it is serious about addressing climate change while approving climate bombs all over the country. Also strange is the denial of many of the locals of the relationship between climate change and what is happening to the source of their livelihood. There are hardly any solar panels in an environment of unrelenting sunshine, with diesel generation supplying electricity and widespread support of the gas industry (Santos sponsors many businesses). Moreover, there are plans to dredge Exmouth gulf to open an industrial port. I fear there is little hope for Ningaloo and this unique world heritage area. Peter Gibson, Wentworthville Rain on parade I have observed two major Sydney events over the past two Sundays, and they compare and contrast significantly (' Winners and grinners cross the City2Surf finish line ', August 10). Similar rainy Sunday attendances of about 90,000 people. Similar levels of intended decency, ie humanity and charity. Both perfectly peaceful. The differences: The City to Surf's 14 kilometres of traffic interruption over more than six hours was, quite rightly, lauded by all. Last Sunday's bridge march, a couple of kilometres taking five hours, decried by many, including our premier. I perfectly understand that the Sydney Harbour Bridge is an important thoroughfare compared to the leafy eastern roads, but we have closed it for far more frivolous reasons than fundamental humanity. Why the difference, premier? Please explain. Kate Coate, Wangi Wangi After competing in 49 consecutive rain-free City2Surf races, the inevitable happened: it actually rained during my 50th race. Despite this, the mood of the entrants was upbeat and joyful. Congratulations to all competitors and to the organisers for a memorable race day. Steven Baker, Engadine Smart study option Congratulations to the people responsible for making the brave decisions to open Freshwater and Manly libraries as 24-hour venues for teenagers willing to study at odd hours ('Approaching midnight with a venue full of unsupervised teenagers', August 10). At last there is a designated after-hours venue where it really is okay to study, to collaborate until the wee hours, and to have the freedom to be with your mates and comrades outside the home. Congratulations to the students who are making good use of these facilities. Hopefully other venues will give this a go as well. It's a great solution for all sorts of problems faced by students who want to study. Mia David, Wollongong Learning shared Parnell Palme McGuinness is dead right when she says 'caring is intrinsically valuable whether it is delivered in the home or outside of it' (' The end of men? Let's end all that', August 10). In my case, as an 87-year-old, my beloved wife supported me for seven years while I studied for my honours arts degree part-time, so it was only fair that she should have the opportunity to study nursing, which she did. She used her student nurse allowance to employ a woman to help with the cooking and cleaning, leaving me to do the traditional male jobs and read stories to our three children. Andrew Macintosh, Cromer
Sydney Morning Herald
a day ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
Feel like crying at work? In Japan, they can help with that
This story is part of the August 16 edition of Good Weekend. See all 14 stories. The young Japanese guys look as if they've stepped out of an anime and into the conference rooms of office buildings across Tokyo. They're extremely handsome, impeccably dressed with slightly tousled hair, and have soft, kind eyes. Those eyes will soon be spilling tears as they encourage the group of assembled office workers in the room, all of whom are women, to do the same. Some of them play melancholy songs on musical instruments. Some read stories featuring sympathetic characters who are set on a path towards a sad ending. Others show weepy films that are designed to tug at the heart-strings, such as the one about a father trying to visit his young daughter, who has been rushed to hospital in an emergency, but she dies before he can get there. Soon enough, everyone in the room is sniffling, prompted by the young man, the meeting's convener, who has himself turned on the waterworks. He then approaches each of them and gently wipes away their tears with a handkerchief, soothing them and reassuring them that it's OK to cry. The above scenario isn't a scene from the latest Studio Ghibli animated movie, but a real-life situation. A company called Ikemeso Danshi – which translates as 'handsome weeping boys' – provides this service for 7900 yen ($82) per session. 'In Japan, showing too much emotion can lead to poor relationships with others,' the company's founder, Hiroki Terai, tells me via email. 'Everyone lives by their public image. People who cry are seen as weak.' Terai wanted to change that. He got his start running 'divorce ceremonies', which involved estranged couples smashing their wedding rings. He found that they'd often both cry together and would say later that they'd found the experience therapeutic. He transferred this idea to the workplace, where people traditionally bottle up their feelings. 'There's definitely a reason for a service like this,' says anthropology lecturer Dr Shiori Shakuto at The University of Sydney. 'I think it shows that women are more prominent in the workplace now in Japan and that people are wanting to become more open, bringing out something that used to be kept for the private domain and making it public.' Loading Shakuto points out that the advertising around Ikemeso Danshi describes it as a healing service and that 'traditionally, such services have been given by women to men, and they're often sexualised, whereas with this service, it's the women who are feeling healed because they can look at good-looking men who are showing their vulnerability by crying'. Ikemeso Danshi, and its army of about 20 crying conveners bearing hankies, has been teasing tears out of Tokyo's workers since 2015. Shakuto says the idea is taking hold at the same time as certain changes in Japanese society are taking place. 'For the longest time, work was central to life and identity,' she says, 'but I think that's definitely shifting and there's greater work-life balance, especially since COVID.' As for whether this could work anywhere else, such as Australia, Shakuto is doubtful the business model would translate. 'There's definitely something in the idea that opening up to your colleagues more is good for the work culture, but would crying together work here? I'm not so sure.'
The Age
a day ago
- The Age
Feel like crying at work? In Japan, they can help with that
This story is part of the August 16 edition of Good Weekend. See all 14 stories. The young Japanese guys look as if they've stepped out of an anime and into the conference rooms of office buildings across Tokyo. They're extremely handsome, impeccably dressed with slightly tousled hair, and have soft, kind eyes. Those eyes will soon be spilling tears as they encourage the group of assembled office workers in the room, all of whom are women, to do the same. Some of them play melancholy songs on musical instruments. Some read stories featuring sympathetic characters who are set on a path towards a sad ending. Others show weepy films that are designed to tug at the heart-strings, such as the one about a father trying to visit his young daughter, who has been rushed to hospital in an emergency, but she dies before he can get there. Soon enough, everyone in the room is sniffling, prompted by the young man, the meeting's convener, who has himself turned on the waterworks. He then approaches each of them and gently wipes away their tears with a handkerchief, soothing them and reassuring them that it's OK to cry. The above scenario isn't a scene from the latest Studio Ghibli animated movie, but a real-life situation. A company called Ikemeso Danshi – which translates as 'handsome weeping boys' – provides this service for 7900 yen ($82) per session. 'In Japan, showing too much emotion can lead to poor relationships with others,' the company's founder, Hiroki Terai, tells me via email. 'Everyone lives by their public image. People who cry are seen as weak.' Terai wanted to change that. He got his start running 'divorce ceremonies', which involved estranged couples smashing their wedding rings. He found that they'd often both cry together and would say later that they'd found the experience therapeutic. He transferred this idea to the workplace, where people traditionally bottle up their feelings. 'There's definitely a reason for a service like this,' says anthropology lecturer Dr Shiori Shakuto at The University of Sydney. 'I think it shows that women are more prominent in the workplace now in Japan and that people are wanting to become more open, bringing out something that used to be kept for the private domain and making it public.' Loading Shakuto points out that the advertising around Ikemeso Danshi describes it as a healing service and that 'traditionally, such services have been given by women to men, and they're often sexualised, whereas with this service, it's the women who are feeling healed because they can look at good-looking men who are showing their vulnerability by crying'. Ikemeso Danshi, and its army of about 20 crying conveners bearing hankies, has been teasing tears out of Tokyo's workers since 2015. Shakuto says the idea is taking hold at the same time as certain changes in Japanese society are taking place. 'For the longest time, work was central to life and identity,' she says, 'but I think that's definitely shifting and there's greater work-life balance, especially since COVID.' As for whether this could work anywhere else, such as Australia, Shakuto is doubtful the business model would translate. 'There's definitely something in the idea that opening up to your colleagues more is good for the work culture, but would crying together work here? I'm not so sure.'
