Welcome to Eureka Street
Looking for thought provoking articles?Subscribe to Eureka Street and join the conversation.
Passwords must be at least 8 characters, contain upper and lower case letters, and a numeric value.
Eureka Street uses the Stripe payment gateway to process payments. The terms and conditions upon which Stripe processes payments and their privacy policy are available here.
Please note: The 40-day free-trial subscription is a limited time offer and expires 31/3/24. Subscribers will have 40 days of free access to Eureka Street content from the date they subscribe. You can cancel your subscription within that 40-day period without charge. After the 40-day free trial subscription period is over, you will be debited the $90 annual subscription amount. Our terms and conditions of membership still apply.
He appeared in the doorway of my study one day in 1971 and asked if I was the one who was starting a course in Australian literature. His voice was soft and melodic, his accent beautifully Irish. Born in Belfast in 1947, he had grown up amid the horrors of 'The Troubles' and would in later years refer to himself as 'a recovering Catholic'.
Last week's medical error at Melbourne's Royal Women's Hospital threw into sharp relief Australians' 'split personality' in celebrating conception but turning a blind eye to the rights of the unborn. I am not writing from lofty heights. I had an abortion at age 30.
All too often anxiety trumps reality. In Melbourne in recent years, we received emails from friends overseas worried that we might be affected by the Queensland floods or NSW bushfires, hundreds of kilometres away. Japan has problems, but Japan it is not a disaster zone.
Hatred against paedophiles and fantasies of violent retaliation are stoked by gossip around dining room tables. Snowtown portrays the evil that humans are capable of under mundane circumstances, and the devolution of morality when it is nourished by sick ideologies.
Amid the horror and gloom there have been moments of inspiration in the flood crisis that have largely gone unreported. While they warmly accept the staples of relief, they know through a history of crippling food insecurity and mass displacement that they are masters of their own destiny.
As Meredith approaches, two boys appear on the cliff and call for the boat to turn back. This allegory for the asylum seeker experience is not entirely out of place: Meredith seeks asylum from personal horrors that lie in her wake. But the curdled milk of human unkindness flows readily.
Manny, terrified and bewildered, clutches a crucifix and prays, while lawyers spew jargon-laden bile at one another. It might seem strange to invoke a Hitchcock film at Easter, but we can see a similar horror at work in the trial of Jesus.
Imagine the horror of a completely silent world. The deaf person requires strategies: they must make requests, or provide tactful reminders. Lip-reading is a useful skill, but beards and moustaches can provide difficulty.
How would it feel to be a child soldier in West Africa, forced to rape and kill at the age of 15? And where might you seek redemption amid such horrors?
The supernatural elements in The Orphanage provide an allegory for Laura's grief for her lost son. But it's the tangible, human elements that will leave both mind and gut churning late into the night. Be prepared to lose sleep.
Kirstyn McDermott is Vice President of the Australian Horror Writers Association. Her short fiction has been published in various magazines and anthologies, including Shadowed Realms, Redsine, Southern Blood, Island and GUD.
37-48 out of 54 results.