Dawn French to star in animated series about Perth's ‘burbs'

Searching for something to read? Here are 10 new books

Sydney Morning Herald

13 hours ago

Sydney Morning Herald

Searching for something to read? Here are 10 new books

From a celebration of reading, to war heroes and Donald Trump's economic policies in our non-fiction round-up, to a creepy cli-fi thriller and a queer black comedy in fiction releases, this week's reviews have something for almost every reader. Happy reading. FICTION PICK OF THE WEEK A creepy mix of cli-fi disaster fiction and psychological thriller, Emmanuelle Salasc's My Sister arrives in the English-speaking world in a brisk translation from the French by Penny Hueston. It's a tale of twin sisters, Clemence and Lucie, reunited in the remote mountain village of their childhood, about30 years after Clemence left it and her sister behind. What has she been doing all that time? She doesn't have time to reveal all before a siren goes off – a warning that the glacier above the village is in imminent danger of cracking and laying waste to all in its path, as it did 150 years ago. Lucie is desperate to evacuate with the rest of the town, but her sister demurs – claiming she's on the run, among other things, and manipulating Lucie into staying in the shadow of ruin. With panic on one side, and preternatural calm on the other, a game of cat and mouse ensues. Salasc writes with enviable crispness, and she laces the central conflict with an exquisite sense of psychological cruelty and menace and mystery. You'll find yourself wondering which twin to believe as this tale of sibling rivalry and ancient dread unfolds. Monica Raszewski follows her previous novel, The Archaeology of a Dream City (shortlisted for the 2022 NSW Premier's Literary Award for New Writing), with Crimson Light, Polished Wood, a compassionate meditation on legacy and loneliness. Falling in love with schoolteacher Margaret, Leonora emigrated from London to Melbourne. Near the novel's opening, Margaret dies of cancer and Leonora finds herself locked in a potentially acrimonious legal battle with her partner's grieving, but bigoted, mother over the estate. Meanwhile, Leonora has developed a complex bond with Polish neighbour Anna, introducing Anna's daughter Lydia to art and literature in a way that leaves an indelible impression. It is from Lydia's perspective that the novel is largely drawn, and Raszewski captures the intensity and ambiguity of the intergenerational friendship with tension and tenderness. This is a delicately wrought queer novel that stakes out contradictions of inheritance and belonging – their tenuousness, their ferocity – while allowing enough scope for the reader to interpret characters, events and emotions in more than one light. Described as an 'all-round chaos merchant', Nell Jenkins is suddenly compelled to perform acts of filial piety against her nature. She fled her childhood home in Aotearoa New Zealand at the first opportunity as a teen, but now her mother's had a stroke. Her brother nursed their father through cancer, so it's Nell's turn to care for their mother. Her homecoming isn't exactly badly timed – Nell has an ongoing issue with her former boss (who is also, messily, her ex-girlfriend), and a stocktake of her life in Sydney is warranted. Soon, though, Nell's anarchic approach to sexuality re-emerges, and she winds up having sex with people she probably shouldn't – the brother of her dead best friend from childhood, and Katya, beguiling assistant to a washed-up TV psychic, Petronella Bush, into whose orbit Nell is inevitably drawn. Unresolved – and indeed irresolvable – grief does lie behind some of the sexual antics and unfulfilling romantic cul-de-sacs in Dead Ends, deepening the emotional ambit of this queer black comedy from the other side of the ditch. Music, love, literature… and sheer dogged perseverance. They're all you need to sail through a nightmare world, right? I suspect there'll be more than a few readers who baulk at the rose-coloured glasses I Cheerfully Refuse puts on, and I count myself among the chipper refuseniks on that score. Leif Enger has created a jarring picaresque that's hard to get invested in and is ultimately too shallow to succeed as allegory. What starts as a cosy love story set in a lakeside town on Michigan's Upper Peninsula, turns into a bleak and wildering voyage when Rainy, a musician, sets sail upon Lake Superior after his wife Lark is murdered. Lark's passion for reading and literature was intrinsic to their romance and the idealisation of both carries Rainy through, trenchant and largely unchanged by disaster, delivering unlikely blasts of optimism in the face of a grim world. And it is societal collapse-level grim – so grim for many, in fact, that a suicide drug known as 'willow' has become popular. Rainy has the drug aboard, though as he veers from coast to coast on the lake encountering a motley mix of stragglers, strangers and escapees, he stays immune to the disillusionment claiming others. Unfortunately, Rainy never really develops or grows, other characters can feel like mouthpieces, and the episodic plot militates against depth, refusing to coalesce behind anything more defined than vague platitudes of a stoical variety. The Stars Are a Million Glittering Worlds Gina Butson Allen & Unwin, $34.99 Running away from a catastrophe for which she feels responsible, guilt-ridden Thea escapes her life in New Zealand through travel, eventually joining throngs of others in San Pedro, a Guatemalan town that's become a party destination for international backpackers. There, she meets the attractive Chris and his partner Sarah, before another tragedy strikes, building a new layer of guilt and secrecy. The novel wends its way through 15 years. Thea finds a partner with secrets as consuming as hers, and although their relationship becomes gnarled by what they can and can't hide from one another, Thea chooses to abandon a rootless life running from her feelings in favour of a settled one in Tasmania. The truth will have its due, however and, during the pandemic era, amid lockdowns, pressure mounts to reveal dual mysteries from the past. Despite the clanger of a title, The Stars Are a Million Glittering Worlds is rich and deft literary fiction – it's full of vivid, sharply observed travel writing, all nested within a psychologically intricate examination of the effect of guilt on human personalities and relationships. The Economic Consequences of Mr Trump Philip Coggan Profile Books, $17.99 When describing the wrecking ball of Donald Trump, celebrated British economics writer Philip Coggan likens him to a Marvel character looking at the global trading system and shouting 'Hulk, smash!' He might also be an overgrown baby throwing a tantrum and smashing his toys. Except they're not toys. Like the election of Trump himself, his trade wars amount to a mass exercise in self-harm – but it won't be confined to the US. As Coggan points out, clearly, with a mix of the amused and bemused, the tariffs will be paid, not by foreign companies, but American ones, which will pass the cost on in increased prices for domestic goods. Coggan is also deeply aware of the history of such economic folly, likening Trump's tariffs to Churchill's decision in 1925 to move England back on the gold standard – which eventually resulted in the general strike of 1926. Underpinning that move, and MAGA (not to mention Brexit), is an absurd nostalgia for the lost paradise of imperial greatness. On top of this is the sheer uncertainty of world trade now – policies issued one day, being reversed the next. The only certainty is that those who voted for Trump will be the ones hurt most, and the already obscenely rich will get richer through tax cuts for the wealthy. This is brilliant synoptic analysis. Australia's Aviation Heroes Colin Burgess Simon & Schuster, $36.99 In April 1918, Australian reconnaissance pilot Jack Treacy was a pallbearer when the Red Baron (shot down by Australian anti-craft) was buried. As the body was lowered, however, the ground gave way, and he nearly went to the grave with the German ace. It's one of the more comic tales in this record of Australian airmen in war and peace – often taking pivotal roles. In 1942, no-fuss Queenslander Donald Bennett, for example, founded the Pathfinders squadron, which went ahead and dropped flares over target areas – highly dangerous. A more flamboyant character was fighter ace Clive 'Killer' Caldwell, who downed five Stukas in one operation. This account of their exploits and of others, involving interviews with many of the flyers, goes from the rough and tumble days of WW1 (when the life expectancy of a pilot was five flying hours) to the Korean War. Dramatic times, dramatic tales. When counsellor and educator Lael Stone talks about 'owning' your story, she means facing up to it. For more than 20 years, she has been dealing with individuals and families who are existentially held back because they don't. A painful past leaves psychological 'imprints', which, if not addressed, can result in repeated patterns of behaviour. This, in turn, stops us from moving on and living 'authentic' lives (authenticity being a key term throughout the book). To an extent, it may sound like psychology 101, but when she delves into such notions as 'the dark night of the soul' and the possibility of rebirth that's written into the concept, she does it from a deeply personal point of view (the traumatic birth of her third child), as well as from case studies put together over the years – all of which ground her theory in lived experience. She tends not to quote her sources, but it was difficult not to feel that – with frequent mention of the 'authentic' and 'individuation' – the ghosts of Heidegger and Jung were not far away. A very accessible self-help guide. One of T.S. Eliot's greatest poetic gifts was his sense of the rhythm of language, the child Eliot often making up a line, getting halfway, and finishing with 'dum-ta-dum'. The rhythm told him the sentence was unfinished, and that very rhythm was the key to finding the words. Teacher/librarian Megan Daley, in this updated version of her 2019 publication, emphasises the centrality of reading to a child from birth in developing a sense of the 'rhythm of words' and a 'network of language'. She takes us on the journey of becoming a reader from the cot to adolescence, noting the need for young people to enjoy reading, but also the need to develop their skills. She covers the waterfront, such as the benefits of an embracing diet of genres, also saying children shouldn't be protected from darker texts – a female student once asked her where in the library the 'sad' books were. Incorporating the contributions of authors, this is a first-rate guide for parents, teachers and carers. When Gwyneth Paltrow was filming Shakespeare in Love – which, apparently, she initially rejected without having read the brilliant script that gave her an Oscar – she seems to have made herself quite disagreeable. Despite its claims to being definitive (Amy Odell interviewed over 200 people from family to colleagues and friends, but never interviewed Paltrow, as much as she tried), this biography, often as not, highlights the problem any biographer has to face - the impossibility of getting inside the head of the subject. Odell takes us back into a childhood (father film producer, mother actress, Stephen Spielberg her godfather) that was almost designed to produce a Hollywood star. She also delves into Goop, her company that markets wellness products, much to the horror of the US medical profession. What comes through is the paradoxical nature of her subject; constantly in the spotlight, but elusive and often retiring. Odell attempts to give us a portrait from all sorts of angles, and not just her good side.

The Age

13 hours ago

The Age

Searching for something to read? Here are 10 new books

From a celebration of reading, to war heroes and Donald Trump's economic policies in our non-fiction round-up, to a creepy cli-fi thriller and a queer black comedy in fiction releases, this week's reviews have something for almost every reader. Happy reading. FICTION PICK OF THE WEEK A creepy mix of cli-fi disaster fiction and psychological thriller, Emmanuelle Salasc's My Sister arrives in the English-speaking world in a brisk translation from the French by Penny Hueston. It's a tale of twin sisters, Clemence and Lucie, reunited in the remote mountain village of their childhood, about30 years after Clemence left it and her sister behind. What has she been doing all that time? She doesn't have time to reveal all before a siren goes off – a warning that the glacier above the village is in imminent danger of cracking and laying waste to all in its path, as it did 150 years ago. Lucie is desperate to evacuate with the rest of the town, but her sister demurs – claiming she's on the run, among other things, and manipulating Lucie into staying in the shadow of ruin. With panic on one side, and preternatural calm on the other, a game of cat and mouse ensues. Salasc writes with enviable crispness, and she laces the central conflict with an exquisite sense of psychological cruelty and menace and mystery. You'll find yourself wondering which twin to believe as this tale of sibling rivalry and ancient dread unfolds. Monica Raszewski follows her previous novel, The Archaeology of a Dream City (shortlisted for the 2022 NSW Premier's Literary Award for New Writing), with Crimson Light, Polished Wood, a compassionate meditation on legacy and loneliness. Falling in love with schoolteacher Margaret, Leonora emigrated from London to Melbourne. Near the novel's opening, Margaret dies of cancer and Leonora finds herself locked in a potentially acrimonious legal battle with her partner's grieving, but bigoted, mother over the estate. Meanwhile, Leonora has developed a complex bond with Polish neighbour Anna, introducing Anna's daughter Lydia to art and literature in a way that leaves an indelible impression. It is from Lydia's perspective that the novel is largely drawn, and Raszewski captures the intensity and ambiguity of the intergenerational friendship with tension and tenderness. This is a delicately wrought queer novel that stakes out contradictions of inheritance and belonging – their tenuousness, their ferocity – while allowing enough scope for the reader to interpret characters, events and emotions in more than one light. Described as an 'all-round chaos merchant', Nell Jenkins is suddenly compelled to perform acts of filial piety against her nature. She fled her childhood home in Aotearoa New Zealand at the first opportunity as a teen, but now her mother's had a stroke. Her brother nursed their father through cancer, so it's Nell's turn to care for their mother. Her homecoming isn't exactly badly timed – Nell has an ongoing issue with her former boss (who is also, messily, her ex-girlfriend), and a stocktake of her life in Sydney is warranted. Soon, though, Nell's anarchic approach to sexuality re-emerges, and she winds up having sex with people she probably shouldn't – the brother of her dead best friend from childhood, and Katya, beguiling assistant to a washed-up TV psychic, Petronella Bush, into whose orbit Nell is inevitably drawn. Unresolved – and indeed irresolvable – grief does lie behind some of the sexual antics and unfulfilling romantic cul-de-sacs in Dead Ends, deepening the emotional ambit of this queer black comedy from the other side of the ditch. Music, love, literature… and sheer dogged perseverance. They're all you need to sail through a nightmare world, right? I suspect there'll be more than a few readers who baulk at the rose-coloured glasses I Cheerfully Refuse puts on, and I count myself among the chipper refuseniks on that score. Leif Enger has created a jarring picaresque that's hard to get invested in and is ultimately too shallow to succeed as allegory. What starts as a cosy love story set in a lakeside town on Michigan's Upper Peninsula, turns into a bleak and wildering voyage when Rainy, a musician, sets sail upon Lake Superior after his wife Lark is murdered. Lark's passion for reading and literature was intrinsic to their romance and the idealisation of both carries Rainy through, trenchant and largely unchanged by disaster, delivering unlikely blasts of optimism in the face of a grim world. And it is societal collapse-level grim – so grim for many, in fact, that a suicide drug known as 'willow' has become popular. Rainy has the drug aboard, though as he veers from coast to coast on the lake encountering a motley mix of stragglers, strangers and escapees, he stays immune to the disillusionment claiming others. Unfortunately, Rainy never really develops or grows, other characters can feel like mouthpieces, and the episodic plot militates against depth, refusing to coalesce behind anything more defined than vague platitudes of a stoical variety. The Stars Are a Million Glittering Worlds Gina Butson Allen & Unwin, $34.99 Running away from a catastrophe for which she feels responsible, guilt-ridden Thea escapes her life in New Zealand through travel, eventually joining throngs of others in San Pedro, a Guatemalan town that's become a party destination for international backpackers. There, she meets the attractive Chris and his partner Sarah, before another tragedy strikes, building a new layer of guilt and secrecy. The novel wends its way through 15 years. Thea finds a partner with secrets as consuming as hers, and although their relationship becomes gnarled by what they can and can't hide from one another, Thea chooses to abandon a rootless life running from her feelings in favour of a settled one in Tasmania. The truth will have its due, however and, during the pandemic era, amid lockdowns, pressure mounts to reveal dual mysteries from the past. Despite the clanger of a title, The Stars Are a Million Glittering Worlds is rich and deft literary fiction – it's full of vivid, sharply observed travel writing, all nested within a psychologically intricate examination of the effect of guilt on human personalities and relationships. The Economic Consequences of Mr Trump Philip Coggan Profile Books, $17.99 When describing the wrecking ball of Donald Trump, celebrated British economics writer Philip Coggan likens him to a Marvel character looking at the global trading system and shouting 'Hulk, smash!' He might also be an overgrown baby throwing a tantrum and smashing his toys. Except they're not toys. Like the election of Trump himself, his trade wars amount to a mass exercise in self-harm – but it won't be confined to the US. As Coggan points out, clearly, with a mix of the amused and bemused, the tariffs will be paid, not by foreign companies, but American ones, which will pass the cost on in increased prices for domestic goods. Coggan is also deeply aware of the history of such economic folly, likening Trump's tariffs to Churchill's decision in 1925 to move England back on the gold standard – which eventually resulted in the general strike of 1926. Underpinning that move, and MAGA (not to mention Brexit), is an absurd nostalgia for the lost paradise of imperial greatness. On top of this is the sheer uncertainty of world trade now – policies issued one day, being reversed the next. The only certainty is that those who voted for Trump will be the ones hurt most, and the already obscenely rich will get richer through tax cuts for the wealthy. This is brilliant synoptic analysis. Australia's Aviation Heroes Colin Burgess Simon & Schuster, $36.99 In April 1918, Australian reconnaissance pilot Jack Treacy was a pallbearer when the Red Baron (shot down by Australian anti-craft) was buried. As the body was lowered, however, the ground gave way, and he nearly went to the grave with the German ace. It's one of the more comic tales in this record of Australian airmen in war and peace – often taking pivotal roles. In 1942, no-fuss Queenslander Donald Bennett, for example, founded the Pathfinders squadron, which went ahead and dropped flares over target areas – highly dangerous. A more flamboyant character was fighter ace Clive 'Killer' Caldwell, who downed five Stukas in one operation. This account of their exploits and of others, involving interviews with many of the flyers, goes from the rough and tumble days of WW1 (when the life expectancy of a pilot was five flying hours) to the Korean War. Dramatic times, dramatic tales. When counsellor and educator Lael Stone talks about 'owning' your story, she means facing up to it. For more than 20 years, she has been dealing with individuals and families who are existentially held back because they don't. A painful past leaves psychological 'imprints', which, if not addressed, can result in repeated patterns of behaviour. This, in turn, stops us from moving on and living 'authentic' lives (authenticity being a key term throughout the book). To an extent, it may sound like psychology 101, but when she delves into such notions as 'the dark night of the soul' and the possibility of rebirth that's written into the concept, she does it from a deeply personal point of view (the traumatic birth of her third child), as well as from case studies put together over the years – all of which ground her theory in lived experience. She tends not to quote her sources, but it was difficult not to feel that – with frequent mention of the 'authentic' and 'individuation' – the ghosts of Heidegger and Jung were not far away. A very accessible self-help guide. One of T.S. Eliot's greatest poetic gifts was his sense of the rhythm of language, the child Eliot often making up a line, getting halfway, and finishing with 'dum-ta-dum'. The rhythm told him the sentence was unfinished, and that very rhythm was the key to finding the words. Teacher/librarian Megan Daley, in this updated version of her 2019 publication, emphasises the centrality of reading to a child from birth in developing a sense of the 'rhythm of words' and a 'network of language'. She takes us on the journey of becoming a reader from the cot to adolescence, noting the need for young people to enjoy reading, but also the need to develop their skills. She covers the waterfront, such as the benefits of an embracing diet of genres, also saying children shouldn't be protected from darker texts – a female student once asked her where in the library the 'sad' books were. Incorporating the contributions of authors, this is a first-rate guide for parents, teachers and carers. When Gwyneth Paltrow was filming Shakespeare in Love – which, apparently, she initially rejected without having read the brilliant script that gave her an Oscar – she seems to have made herself quite disagreeable. Despite its claims to being definitive (Amy Odell interviewed over 200 people from family to colleagues and friends, but never interviewed Paltrow, as much as she tried), this biography, often as not, highlights the problem any biographer has to face - the impossibility of getting inside the head of the subject. Odell takes us back into a childhood (father film producer, mother actress, Stephen Spielberg her godfather) that was almost designed to produce a Hollywood star. She also delves into Goop, her company that markets wellness products, much to the horror of the US medical profession. What comes through is the paradoxical nature of her subject; constantly in the spotlight, but elusive and often retiring. Odell attempts to give us a portrait from all sorts of angles, and not just her good side.

A young skater caught in a police crackdown is back in the spotlight, 50 years later

ABC News

19 hours ago

ABC News

A young skater caught in a police crackdown is back in the spotlight, 50 years later

For Jean Hopcraft, this was all quite familiar. The interview, the camera crew and the questions about the rollerskates. The 69-year-old has been living a quiet and hidden life in Melbourne's inner suburbs. But in the late 1970s, she was turning heads. Almost 50 years later, her dormant fame has returned after an old video of her went viral. Loading Instagram content The ABC republishes archival stories on social media to revisit the best stories about Australians from the past. Over the past few weeks, more than a million people have watched a social media post showing a young Jean rollerskating through Melbourne. While many dream of having the kind of fame brought on by the likes of TikTok and Instagram, Jean was not after that at all. "It's bizarre that they've clicked on it," she said. "Who would have thought anybody would be interested in somebody on rollerskates from all those years ago?" Rolling to fame In 1977, ABC reporter Terry McMahon interviewed a young woman who was quite popular on the city streets of Melbourne. She travelled around on rollerskates despite an active police crackdown that saw officers confiscating them from those they caught. Skateboards and rollerskates were regarded as a public nuisance at that time. Jean was 21 when she was interviewed about her rollerskating by the ABC in the late 1970s. ( ABC archive ) Jean was a 21-year-old college student whose studies and work revolved around the CBD, and a pair of rollerskates was her chosen mode of transport for 14 years. With worn-out skates strapped onto the feet and her best outfit on, she zoomed past pedestrians, catching attention as she glided. McMahon: What about when you're out on the street? Do people stare? Jean Hopcraft: Yeah, they stare most of the time, but I don't take any notice of them. McMahon: What about police? Jean Hopcraft: No problems. Few years ago, with the skateboards, they clamped down, told me to take them off. But I put them on when I got around the corner … I won't give them away yet. Looking back, she never expected her playful antics to turn her into a public figure. "There was quite a bit of press because I [skated] for a long time, so they were very familiar with this girl just skating around the city," Jean said. "Little snippets in the paper … newspapers reaching out to me. "I just became part of the fabric of Melbourne." This was the first time Jean watched the TV story produced by the ABC in 1977. ( ABC News: Danielle Bonica ) About the same time, Jean also featured on a daytime current affairs television program presented by Mickie de Stoop, which featured stories of pioneering women. Yet underneath the energetic but nonchalant persona portrayed in printed columns and black-and-white photographs, Jean faced significant societal drawbacks. Not fitting the mould The 1970s were a very different time for women. It was a period when career options were slim and freedom of expression, especially by clothing, could be frowned upon. "I actually wanted to be a painter, a decorator like my dad but, in those days, women weren't allowed to do those sorts of jobs," Jean said. "It was deemed not suitable for women." Roller skating was a cheap and easy mode of transport for young Jean Hopcroft. ( Supplied ) Rollerskating was a cheap and easy mode of transport for a young Jean Hopcraft. (Supplied) Despite a police crackdown, Jean was spotted roller skating in popular spots in Melbourne's CBD. ( Supplied/ABC News: Danielle Bonica ) Despite a police crackdown, Jean was spotted rollerskating in popular spots in Melbourne's CBD. (Supplied/ABC News: Danielle Bonica) The local newspaper writes about Jean travelling through the city on a pair of roller skates. ( Supplied ) The local newspaper writes about Jean travelling through the city on her rollerskates. (Supplied) Instead, she studied fashion and textile at the Emily McPherson College, which was known for its cookery and dressmaking courses. Even within university walls, Jean didn't always stick to the status quo. The queer community was her clique, and she wasn't afraid to break a few college rules — including the skating. "I guess you'd call me a freak … because I didn't fit the mould," Jean said. "Women couldn't wear trousers way back then. We had to get a petition together to see if women could wear pants and trousers. "I got pulled over at school and almost expelled because they didn't like the idea of a woman skating. "I stood up for what I believed." 'Classic Jean' Over the phone from New York, Jean and her husband Peter Hoyland's daughter, Eliza Hoyland, wasn't surprised about her mother's sudden return to stardom back home. "She's a very interesting person, my mum," Eliza said. The ABC post was the first time Eliza found out her mother had ever been interviewed by the news outlet. "I'm watching and I'm like, 'What in the world is this?'" "I think I watched it like 20 times in a row." Eliza Hoyland said she is in awe of Jean, who she thinks is the "best mum ever". ( Supplied: Eliza Hoyland ) For Eliza, a huge chunk of her mum's youth has been like scattered puzzle pieces waiting to be put together. She said Jean had always assured the family that "there'll be nothing about her" on the internet. "I googled her and this photo of her came up in her rollerblading look, and she's in this leopard skin suit," she said. "My mum is very private and very timid, but then she has this huge life that [Dad and I] are always trying to creep in [on]." One of Eliza's absolute joys was watching Jean rollerskate during a birthday celebration in 2023. In 2023, Jean put her rollerskates back on in a rink in New York. ( Supplied: Eliza Hoyland ) At the Rockefeller Center, the rollerskater flaunted her self-taught skills like she never left the rink. For Jean, it was all muscle memory. "She was zooming around the rink and doing laps on my friends and like, 'Get out of the way!'" Eliza recalled. "It's classic Jean. She's an icon." Peter Hoyland said he's met strangers who recognise Jean from the viral clip. ( ABC News: Danielle Bonica ) Peter Hoyland, whose career in the music industry has introduced him to several notable artists, said it had been "fun" and "fantastic" to meet people buzzing about his wife's renewed popularity. "I said, "Now you're the most famous person that I know,'" Peter said. A friend even warned the couple about the possibility of Jean becoming an internet meme. "Yes, I'm waiting for that," Peter said. Jean Hopcraft enjoys reading books and gardening in her inner Melbourne home. ( ABC News: Danielle Bonica ) Jean will soon turn 70 and is now living a quieter life, enjoying her retirement. She gardens, travels to the US to visit her daughter, and reminisces about her earlier days on her trusty skates. "I didn't care," she said. "I couldn't afford a car. I had my own ideas of what was right and wrong." Always in awe of her mother and the hidden stories of her past, Eliza described Jean as a "wonderful human" with an amazing story waiting to be told. "She's always going to be standing up for herself and the people around her," she said. "I was just like, 'You haven't changed a bit. Yes, you might only wear black now, but you really are exactly the same.'"

Dawn French to star in animated series about Perth's ‘burbs'

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Searching for something to read? Here are 10 new books

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A young skater caught in a police crackdown is back in the spotlight, 50 years later

Dawn French to star in animated series about Perth's ‘burbs'

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Searching for something to read? Here are 10 new books

Searching for something to read? Here are 10 new books

A young skater caught in a police crackdown is back in the spotlight, 50 years later

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