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And What Do You Do, Mr Gable?
The collected short pieces of nonfiction from one of Australia's best novelists.
'And what do you do, Mr Faulkner?' asked Clark Gable after being introduced to William Faulkner at a party.
'I write,' replied Faulkner. 'And what do you do, Mr Gable?'
Collected here for the first time are the very best of Richard Flanagan's wide-ranging, free-wheeling writings on everything from directing film and writing novels to a near fatal kayak trip; from baking bread to bushfires to art to war; from Kosovar refugees on the run to Jorge Luis Borges to his celebrated essay on the rape of Tasmania's forests, credited as a key to halting Gunns' two billion dollar pulp mill.
Sparkling, moving and always surprising, this is exhilarating reading from one of Australia's best writers.
'And what do you do, Mr Faulkner?' asked Clark Gable after being introduced to William Faulkner at a party.
'I write,' replied Faulkner. 'And what do you do, Mr Gable?'
Collected here for the first time are the very best of Richard Flanagan's wide-ranging, free-wheeling writings on everything from directing film and writing novels to a near fatal kayak trip; from baking bread to bushfires to art to war; from Kosovar refugees on the run to Jorge Luis Borges to his celebrated essay on the rape of Tasmania's forests, credited as a key to halting Gunns' two billion dollar pulp mill.
Sparkling, moving and always surprising, this is exhilarating reading from one of Australia's best writers.
- GenresNonfictionAustralia
241 pages, Kindle Edition
First published August 31, 2011
9 people are currently reading
248 people want to read
About the author
Richard Flanagan
29 books1,647 followersRichard Flanagan (born 1961) is an author, historian and film director from Tasmania, Australia. He was president of the Tasmania University Union and a Rhodes Scholar. Each of his novels has attracted major praise. His first, Death of a River Guide (1994), was short-listed for the Miles Franklin Award, as were his next two, The Sound of One Hand Clapping (1997) and Gould's Book of Fish (2001). His earlier, non-fiction titles include books about the Gordon River, student issues, and the story of conman John Friedrich.
Two of his novels are set on the West Coast of Tasmania; where he lived in the township of Rosebery as a child. Death of a River Guide relates to the Franklin River, Gould's Book of Fish to the Macquarie Harbour Penal Station, and The Sound of One Hand Clapping to the Hydro settlements in the Central Highlands of Tasmania.
Two of his novels are set on the West Coast of Tasmania; where he lived in the township of Rosebery as a child. Death of a River Guide relates to the Franklin River, Gould's Book of Fish to the Macquarie Harbour Penal Station, and The Sound of One Hand Clapping to the Hydro settlements in the Central Highlands of Tasmania.
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Displaying 1 - 16 of 16 reviews
October 14, 2023
5★
“PORT ARTHUR
Once upon a time massacres were crimes committed against the people by oppressive regimes: Peterloo, St Petersburg, Amritsar.
. . .
My children sleep well, but now I wonder for how long. There are no more once upon times, only nows, and I will have to explain something of this to them. But though I have tried, I cannot answer the insistent question that haunts me and everyone else I know this night as searchers discover yet more and more bodies and the gunman remains at large: How have we come to this?
The Age 29 April 1996”
PORT ARTHUR is one of the twenty-seven articles and essays in this collection of some of his best non-fiction. I am a fan of both his fiction – some of it wildly imaginative – and his journalism, news commentary, and opinion pieces. I lean the same way politically (left), but overall, he seems to understand the difference between reporting and opinion.
Port Arthur, Tasmania, is the historic site of an 1830 Australian penal colony and now a tourist destination. In April 1996, Australia was horrified to discover that a disturbed young man, Martin Bryant, had randomly massacred visitors, killing 35 people and wounding a further 18.
How had Australia come to this, indeed? Only twelve days later, the Australian Government, then led by Prime Minister John Howard, drafted a National Firearms Agreement, declared a gun amnesty buyback scheme, and 700,000 automatic and semi-automatic rifles were turned in and bought by the government, including some from my family when we were farming. It was handy having a rifle that repeated quickly (shooting vermin), but not necessary.
I mention all of that because later in the book is Flanagan’s interesting take on the Federal election of March 1996, just a month prior to the massacre, so the tragedy didn’t affect the outcome. But much as I deplored some of Howard’s and his conservative views, I admire the fact that he had such strong backing that Australia has been a considerably safer place to live than the country of my birth, the USA.
Flanagan can be practical and down to earth as well as philosophical and deep-thinking. Some topics don’t interest me as much as they interest him, but they were still good reading. He’s a staunch, outspoken conservationist. It’s just that he says things better than anybody else.
There is a special essay that was written in 2007 for ‘The Monthly’ magazine about the dreadful logging and woodchipping done by Gunns in Tasmania, and he would have been happy to see them go into liquidation in 2013. Mind you, there is still more logging going on, and the industry seems to operate on the “easier to ask forgiveness than permission” when it comes to cutting down enormous old trees.
The politics is interesting because he followed the Prime Minister (John Howard) and the Labor opposition leader (Mark Latham) before the 1996 federal election, and to me, he absolutely nailed the two men.
Latham was (still is) a strange man that I’m sure most Labor voters wonder why he was ever there. He lost, and has since gone to the complete opposite side, joining the extreme rightwing One Nation Party. But I digress.
Howard was and still is, quite a different sort of politician – stays on message and never wavers. The gun amnesty was an excellent move. His treatment of refugees as “illegals” was abhorrent, as the current policy still is. But here’s an example of how he dodges questions and sticks to his point.
“I put it to Howard that if Mark Latham gets asked about his child’s schooling he wants a journalist censured, but that I had the impression that if he, Howard, got hit over the back of the head with an iron bar he would simply crawl back up and say that under him interest rates will stay lower.
‘Bingo!’ said Howard, raising a finger in cricket umpire fashion, laughing and adding, ‘And there will be no deficit.’ It was a joke, and it’s a joke being played out daily across the nation as a way of ensuring the Liberal Party is returned to power”
The title of the collection comes from a very different time, from the introduction Flanagan wrote for “The Sound of One Hand Clapping” filmscript in 2000. He discovered many Hollywood stories while he was there, one that is said to go like this:
“CLARK GABLE:
And what do you do, Mr Faulkner?
WILLIAM FAULKNER:
I write. And what do you do,
Mr Gable?”
Hollywood was not for him.
“And, that night talking film and drinking wine in that low-lit cutting room with John Scott, how I wished to tell him that I had been accidentally blown from the republic of letters into the strange country of film, and, though there was much to despise in the way of chicanery in the world from which I had come, that I had ruefully realised I would rather live in a republic, however flawed, than in a tyranny, no matter how magnificent.
But I could feel the undertow of his world, and I could feel that I was becoming a trader of images, and no longer having words, I opened another bottle, filled our glasses, and said nothing.”
Flanagan writes movingly, passionately, and intelligently about many things. Speaking of the great Argentinian writer, Jorge Luis Borges, who wrote in both English and Spanish, Flanagan quoted this excellent explanation of what I (and others) love about the short story form.
“He never wrote a novel, though his work, in its concerns, its clarity and its innovation, carries the weight and authority of that of the very greatest of novelists. ‘It is a laborious madness and an impoverishing one, the madness of composing vast books,’ wrote Borges, ‘setting out in 500 pages an idea that can be perfectly related orally in five minutes. The better way to go about it is to pretend that those books already exist, and offer a summary, a commentary on them … I have chosen to write notes on imaginary books.’ And in so doing, he suggested in a few pages worlds of vast mystery and wonder.”
I think any interested reader would benefit from Flanagan’s insight. It’s no accident he won the Booker Prize for The Narrow Road to the Deep North.
“PORT ARTHUR
Once upon a time massacres were crimes committed against the people by oppressive regimes: Peterloo, St Petersburg, Amritsar.
. . .
My children sleep well, but now I wonder for how long. There are no more once upon times, only nows, and I will have to explain something of this to them. But though I have tried, I cannot answer the insistent question that haunts me and everyone else I know this night as searchers discover yet more and more bodies and the gunman remains at large: How have we come to this?
The Age 29 April 1996”
PORT ARTHUR is one of the twenty-seven articles and essays in this collection of some of his best non-fiction. I am a fan of both his fiction – some of it wildly imaginative – and his journalism, news commentary, and opinion pieces. I lean the same way politically (left), but overall, he seems to understand the difference between reporting and opinion.
Port Arthur, Tasmania, is the historic site of an 1830 Australian penal colony and now a tourist destination. In April 1996, Australia was horrified to discover that a disturbed young man, Martin Bryant, had randomly massacred visitors, killing 35 people and wounding a further 18.
How had Australia come to this, indeed? Only twelve days later, the Australian Government, then led by Prime Minister John Howard, drafted a National Firearms Agreement, declared a gun amnesty buyback scheme, and 700,000 automatic and semi-automatic rifles were turned in and bought by the government, including some from my family when we were farming. It was handy having a rifle that repeated quickly (shooting vermin), but not necessary.
I mention all of that because later in the book is Flanagan’s interesting take on the Federal election of March 1996, just a month prior to the massacre, so the tragedy didn’t affect the outcome. But much as I deplored some of Howard’s and his conservative views, I admire the fact that he had such strong backing that Australia has been a considerably safer place to live than the country of my birth, the USA.
Flanagan can be practical and down to earth as well as philosophical and deep-thinking. Some topics don’t interest me as much as they interest him, but they were still good reading. He’s a staunch, outspoken conservationist. It’s just that he says things better than anybody else.
There is a special essay that was written in 2007 for ‘The Monthly’ magazine about the dreadful logging and woodchipping done by Gunns in Tasmania, and he would have been happy to see them go into liquidation in 2013. Mind you, there is still more logging going on, and the industry seems to operate on the “easier to ask forgiveness than permission” when it comes to cutting down enormous old trees.
The politics is interesting because he followed the Prime Minister (John Howard) and the Labor opposition leader (Mark Latham) before the 1996 federal election, and to me, he absolutely nailed the two men.
Latham was (still is) a strange man that I’m sure most Labor voters wonder why he was ever there. He lost, and has since gone to the complete opposite side, joining the extreme rightwing One Nation Party. But I digress.
Howard was and still is, quite a different sort of politician – stays on message and never wavers. The gun amnesty was an excellent move. His treatment of refugees as “illegals” was abhorrent, as the current policy still is. But here’s an example of how he dodges questions and sticks to his point.
“I put it to Howard that if Mark Latham gets asked about his child’s schooling he wants a journalist censured, but that I had the impression that if he, Howard, got hit over the back of the head with an iron bar he would simply crawl back up and say that under him interest rates will stay lower.
‘Bingo!’ said Howard, raising a finger in cricket umpire fashion, laughing and adding, ‘And there will be no deficit.’ It was a joke, and it’s a joke being played out daily across the nation as a way of ensuring the Liberal Party is returned to power”
The title of the collection comes from a very different time, from the introduction Flanagan wrote for “The Sound of One Hand Clapping” filmscript in 2000. He discovered many Hollywood stories while he was there, one that is said to go like this:
“CLARK GABLE:
And what do you do, Mr Faulkner?
WILLIAM FAULKNER:
I write. And what do you do,
Mr Gable?”
Hollywood was not for him.
“And, that night talking film and drinking wine in that low-lit cutting room with John Scott, how I wished to tell him that I had been accidentally blown from the republic of letters into the strange country of film, and, though there was much to despise in the way of chicanery in the world from which I had come, that I had ruefully realised I would rather live in a republic, however flawed, than in a tyranny, no matter how magnificent.
But I could feel the undertow of his world, and I could feel that I was becoming a trader of images, and no longer having words, I opened another bottle, filled our glasses, and said nothing.”
Flanagan writes movingly, passionately, and intelligently about many things. Speaking of the great Argentinian writer, Jorge Luis Borges, who wrote in both English and Spanish, Flanagan quoted this excellent explanation of what I (and others) love about the short story form.
“He never wrote a novel, though his work, in its concerns, its clarity and its innovation, carries the weight and authority of that of the very greatest of novelists. ‘It is a laborious madness and an impoverishing one, the madness of composing vast books,’ wrote Borges, ‘setting out in 500 pages an idea that can be perfectly related orally in five minutes. The better way to go about it is to pretend that those books already exist, and offer a summary, a commentary on them … I have chosen to write notes on imaginary books.’ And in so doing, he suggested in a few pages worlds of vast mystery and wonder.”
I think any interested reader would benefit from Flanagan’s insight. It’s no accident he won the Booker Prize for The Narrow Road to the Deep North.
February 2, 2016
This was the best book that I read in 2012. Full of short, previously published pieces of non fiction on a diverse range of subjects, from a near death experience on a kayak in Bass Straight (an account which made me cry), to following Mark Latham on the campaign trail, to the healing properties of baking bread, and onto the extraordinary career of Bob Brown and of the heartbreaking and outrageous case of Gunns Mill in Flanagan's beloved Tasmania, this is the kind of writing that reminds us of the importance of passion, and a sense of humanity in our lives.
November 17, 2015
Although neither of us these days reside there, I suspect that he, like I, still regards the North West Coast as the homelands. So I liked this bit:- 'She would sometimes halt our car...on the side of a new highway cutting that had sliced open the red earth of Tasmania’s north west coast, a flick-knife (great metaphor RF) of progress slashing the land. After looking furtively up and down the road, she would get out of the boot old fertiliser bags and order us children to fill them with that rich and sweating red earth. We would take that dirt all the way south to our Hobart home, where she would empty it over that part of our backyard she decreed would be a vegetable garden...With her foot she would scuff back the surface of some of the sour grey clay of southern Tasmania, and say:
'Smell that son.'
And we would smell the richness together as she let it fall through her fingers, a shower of red earth saying:
'Now that's what I call soil.'
That red earth is the stuff of miracles; the same red earth that grows the world's best spuds. I've a good life here in the sour-soiled south, but that dirt from the opposite end of the state, good enough to be placed on a plate and be served as a meal - well, I miss it, I really do. That, as well as the homeland's accompanying fecundity, lushness, greenness. It's a part of my soul, as it is for Richard Flanagan.
'The Australian Disease' is a short - and cheap at less than ten bucks - mash-up of several of the essays featured in the Man-Booker winning author's 'And What Do You Do Mr Gable? Much of the latter, particularly his railing against the obscenity that was the hold Gunns had on both sides of government here on our island for many years, I'd read before. And I do admit I found some of the other offerings too cerebral for my aged and addled brain. Others, though, I enjoyed immensely - some even moving me to the core, such as the reminiscence that contained the extract I used in the intro, simply entitled 'Bread'. In this the great man writes of his fondness for 'roo and wallaby chorizo (I wonder where he sources that from?) and gives us his own recipe for a loaf - so simple; its perfection being in the love imparted from maker to dough. And then there's the view that the rot first set in on humankind when we transformed ourselves from hunter-gatherers to reapers of grains. Hmmm!
He also gifts us his reflection on how Peter Dombrovskis' images of wilderness changed the way we looked at wild places, Tasmanian or otherwise. In turn that camerasmith took his cues from the ground-breaking Olegas Truchanas - and uncannily both died in much the same way, out doing what they loved. 'They created another Tasmania; an invitation to a dream open to all.'Another image poignantly features in his 'Family is Everything', his take on the 2001 election campaign when a Kim Beazley decision to align his party to Howard's hard-line attitude to legal refugee seekers, trying to find a better life for themselves and their children in our previously welcoming country, grew into the great shame that was the culmination of that policy under the thankfully now departed Abbott. Shorten has attached himself to that too - it is to be hoped that Turnbull can usher in a softer stance.
In 'Sheep Management' Flanagan makes a case for fiction as opposed to the prevailing plethora of factual tomes. Yet another campaign is covered when he joins the media pack following a Mark Latham trying to convince that being a nut case shouldn't exclude one from being PM ('The Rohypnol Decade').
'The Australian Disease' gives a synopsis of the bigger collection, being the transcript to his Alan Missen Oration', again from 2011. Back then there was a possibility, that he touches on, of a ticket of Putin/Palin ruling the world. What could be worse? Dare I suggest - Putin/Trump?
'Smell that son.'
And we would smell the richness together as she let it fall through her fingers, a shower of red earth saying:
'Now that's what I call soil.'
That red earth is the stuff of miracles; the same red earth that grows the world's best spuds. I've a good life here in the sour-soiled south, but that dirt from the opposite end of the state, good enough to be placed on a plate and be served as a meal - well, I miss it, I really do. That, as well as the homeland's accompanying fecundity, lushness, greenness. It's a part of my soul, as it is for Richard Flanagan.
'The Australian Disease' is a short - and cheap at less than ten bucks - mash-up of several of the essays featured in the Man-Booker winning author's 'And What Do You Do Mr Gable? Much of the latter, particularly his railing against the obscenity that was the hold Gunns had on both sides of government here on our island for many years, I'd read before. And I do admit I found some of the other offerings too cerebral for my aged and addled brain. Others, though, I enjoyed immensely - some even moving me to the core, such as the reminiscence that contained the extract I used in the intro, simply entitled 'Bread'. In this the great man writes of his fondness for 'roo and wallaby chorizo (I wonder where he sources that from?) and gives us his own recipe for a loaf - so simple; its perfection being in the love imparted from maker to dough. And then there's the view that the rot first set in on humankind when we transformed ourselves from hunter-gatherers to reapers of grains. Hmmm!
He also gifts us his reflection on how Peter Dombrovskis' images of wilderness changed the way we looked at wild places, Tasmanian or otherwise. In turn that camerasmith took his cues from the ground-breaking Olegas Truchanas - and uncannily both died in much the same way, out doing what they loved. 'They created another Tasmania; an invitation to a dream open to all.'Another image poignantly features in his 'Family is Everything', his take on the 2001 election campaign when a Kim Beazley decision to align his party to Howard's hard-line attitude to legal refugee seekers, trying to find a better life for themselves and their children in our previously welcoming country, grew into the great shame that was the culmination of that policy under the thankfully now departed Abbott. Shorten has attached himself to that too - it is to be hoped that Turnbull can usher in a softer stance.
In 'Sheep Management' Flanagan makes a case for fiction as opposed to the prevailing plethora of factual tomes. Yet another campaign is covered when he joins the media pack following a Mark Latham trying to convince that being a nut case shouldn't exclude one from being PM ('The Rohypnol Decade').
'The Australian Disease' gives a synopsis of the bigger collection, being the transcript to his Alan Missen Oration', again from 2011. Back then there was a possibility, that he touches on, of a ticket of Putin/Palin ruling the world. What could be worse? Dare I suggest - Putin/Trump?
June 27, 2018
A wonderful collection of essays which, alongside an enriched understanding of art, politics and literature, offers a profound insight into Australian culture and society.
March 1, 2018
I liked this collection of essays a lot, some of which I had read before. The thread of corruption in Tasmanian (& Australian) politics throughout history and his sense of injustice and outrage at Australia's treatment of boat refugees is particularly interesting. Read this next time you need a strong argument when debating these topics! He is such a great writer, and I really enjoy how he weaves several threads into his stories to make his point. The profile of David Walsh, the Australian disease, the Gunns essay and the final essay on love are particularly good. And any of the essays involving the Franklin River. I borrowed this book from the library however this is a book worth owning, to dip into whenever you wish.
August 27, 2016
It's a patchy collection of essays, but the best of them make the whole package worthwhile.
January 15, 2022
This is a series of non-fiction essays written for a range of purposes between 1995 and 2014, dealing with a broad range of subjects from literature, Tasmanian issues, politics, refugees, MONA to love stories, all contemporary issues of the time, many as relevant now as they were then, and all written with Flanagan's signature style of detailed research, honesty and quick wit.
Flanagan's breadth of ability is amazing: from the sensitivity of his wonderful The Narrow Road to the Deep North and more recently, The Living Sea of Waking Dreams, to his carefully researched and passionate attack on the Tasmanian salmon industry in Toxic . . . I believe that Richard Flanagan would be successful in anything he put his mind to, always achieving greatness.
It occurs to me when I see him interviewed or read his work, that here is the kind of person who would make a great leader for our country: intelligence, honesty, integrity, passion, compassion and balance. Always fascinating. ****
Flanagan's breadth of ability is amazing: from the sensitivity of his wonderful The Narrow Road to the Deep North and more recently, The Living Sea of Waking Dreams, to his carefully researched and passionate attack on the Tasmanian salmon industry in Toxic . . . I believe that Richard Flanagan would be successful in anything he put his mind to, always achieving greatness.
It occurs to me when I see him interviewed or read his work, that here is the kind of person who would make a great leader for our country: intelligence, honesty, integrity, passion, compassion and balance. Always fascinating. ****
April 24, 2019
A collection of Flanagan's non-fiction writings, ranging from book reviews to political opinion pieces. Although generally interesting throughout, at times Flanagan's style threatens to overwhelm his subjects, as though writing not in their service but for the sake of the writing itself. He is at his best when speaking passionately about his homeland of Tasmania, with the courage to squarely point a finger at much of what is wrong with Australian politics and society.
August 4, 2018
It’s a mixed collection. Some pieces haven’t aged well, but then they weren’t really written to do so. Some pieces are fantastic, especially those digging into Australia’s history and relating it to contemporary events. Flanagan’s love of Tasmania and the stories that each person carriers in their head are evident in many of the pieces.
March 22, 2025
Some interesting and well written articles and opinion pieces. Amidst the ones that were only relevant to Australians , or dated so no longer as interesting, were some gems.
So, a mixed read for me.
So, a mixed read for me.
Read
June 30, 20183.5/5 some great essays but I thought some were a bit boring
August 25, 2019
Wonderful
Flanagan once again exposes the corruptness this at the heart of the Australian political landscape with conviction, truth and eloqueness.
Flanagan once again exposes the corruptness this at the heart of the Australian political landscape with conviction, truth and eloqueness.
November 23, 2015
This is a superb collection of Flanagan's writing. The book includes articles written for The Age, the Sydney Morning Herald and sundry writers' festivals, 1995 -2014. Each piece moves you physically through space and time, and philosophically. One story was about his crazy near fatal kayaking venture across Bass Strait. Another about busing around with a pack of journos and political staffers in the entourage of then Labor political star, Mark Latham. Flanagan is such an imaginative and eloquent writer. Concerned with the big issues of life. Whatever he's talking about, he takes you on a journey of mind and spirit. I was left thinking about each chapter for hours afterwards. Highly recommended.
February 1, 2015
This book contains a collection of Richard Flanagan's essays on anything that interests him, mostly art (in particular literature, of course), Australian politics and Tasmania. Flanagan writes very elegantly, which makes the essays easy to read. He is a keen observer of his surroundings, even though I can't help feeling that sometimes his interpretations of things are spiced up by some literary imagination. As for the content, it depends of course on the readers preference whether one particular essay is deemed interesting.
August 2, 2016
This is an erudite suite of newspaper columns and essays on a broad range of topics. Some of the offerings were gems and well worth the book, but some also left me cold. This simply reflects the breadth of issues covered rather than any limitations of Richard. On his 'green' feelings, and as a fellow Tasmanian, I am with him 100%. This is the idea book to read between books, sort of "now for something short, invariably stimulating and totally different". If a chapter doesn't 'click', the next one probably will.
November 26, 2011
What can I say. Wonderful, informative, opinionated, policital. Love short pieces, this was a breath of fresh air blowing through the window of Richard Falangan's writings. The curtains were flapping and I was refreshed by their breeze. What did you do Mr Flanagan, you captivated and stired my sole.
Displaying 1 - 16 of 16 reviews