Queen

 

Every Sunday of my childhood we prayed “especially for thy Servant Elizabeth our Queen, that under her we may be godly and quietly governed.” These were the precise words that we expected of her governing. If the service was Matins, or Morning Prayer, then we had not only A Prayer for the Queen’s Majesty (“…so replenish her with the grace of thy Holy Spirit, that she may always incline to thy will, and walk in thy way...”) but also A Prayer for the Royal Family, in which we asked to “prosper them with all happiness.” Although we never saw these people, they were local in our minds. Their presence was formative, their likenesses known. That Monday we marched past the flag in the schoolyard, eyes right at the vital moment, having just sung ‘God Save the Queen’, the national anthem. Adult conversation took on a different tone when the subject was the Queen; it still does. Entire banks of stored knowledge could suddenly come forth, informing opinions political, social, and cultural about these English people. Contact was made via hefty pictorials that detailed every step of their lives, sitting on silken couches or meeting a foreign dignitary or riding horses through the Scottish Highlands. Sepia annuals made way for something called colorgravure. In my childhood we could see the Queen in most public buildings, her portrait squarely positioned behind post office counter or bank teller’s window or headmaster’s desk. Most commonly, though anything but commonly, it was the Queen in her wattle-yellow gown, the 1954 portrait painting by Sir William Dargie. As with any relationship of length, learning more about a person’s politics, society and culture would change the childhood impressions into formed perspectives. It was not a Prime Minister’s bouquet of “I did but see her passing by” that made me think again, but my mother’s comment of “silly old fellow!” A line had been crossed and it was he who crossed it. The slow realisation that half the suburbs of our city had names associated with the Queen’s direct ancestors started to explain the bigger meanings of power and possession. And by the time I was a young adult, the Dismissal of the elected federal government showed in hard relief the difference between the reality and fantasy of the monarchy, the peculiar balancing act of all our relationships. The closeness that we enjoyed in regard to the Queen was sustained by the established maintenance of a distance that itself is a product of time and history. We all know the story of her reign, having lived through the reign, most of us knowing no other, and while we know about the scandals and such like, it is arresting to ponder the words “godly and quietly governed”, in a world today where such virtues are needed.

Book

 

Here’s the modest haul, restraint please, from the St Peter’s Bookroom Book Fair last weekend, $20 the lot. Alphabetically by author. 1. ‘The history question : who owns the past?’ by Inga Clendinnen a Quarterly Essay that addressed the history war before the last one with her fearless signature incisiveness (Black Inc., 2006) 2. ‘The golden rule’ by Irene Cooper, its reiteration in different religious traditions as told in story between a grandfather and grandchild, beautifully illustrated by Gabi Swiatkowska, the book itself in excellent condition (Abrams Books, 2007) 3. ‘Wild Australia : a view of birds and men’ by Douglas Dorward, as the title suggests a ‘blokes go bush’ book but interesting today for its paintings and drawings by John Olsen, prefiguring his later big artbook nature trips to extreme parts of the continent (Collins, 1977) 4. ‘John Ford Paterson : a family tradition’ with text by Lyn Johnson, a Scottish artist I was unaware of, who came to Australia and could be called next generation Heidelberg School, Paterson created some very good things ((McClelland Gallery & Sculpture Park, 2010) 5. ‘Churchill: visionary, statesman, historian’ by John Lukacs, which came after a book of his I have read ‘Five days in London: May 1940’, itself a must-read for anyone who still needs to know what Churchill did to avoid capitulation, how much of a close thing it really was (Scribe, 2002) 6. ‘Australian legends of our land’ by Oodgeroo Noonuccal, a children’s book for anyone, withdrawn from the Malvern Library Service well-worn, telling ancient stories of Stradbroke Island and other parts of the country (Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1990) 7. ‘There’s a wocket in my pocket!’ by Dr. Seuss, in very good condition and no texta scribbles, I further soften to Dr. Seuss and this one is great, charming, screwball, mysterious, a house full of zany creatures including the zlock behind the clock and the vug under the rug (Collins and Harvill, 1975) 8.  ‘Elinor Fettiplace’s receipt book’ is an Elizabethan cookbook revived and carefully annotated by Hilary Spurling, it follows the English seasons and brings to life the world of Elinor’s household, planning some testing (Penguin Books, 1986) 9. ‘Political amnesia : how we forgot to govern’ another one of those Quarterly Essays, this one by the reassuringly formidable Laura Tingle, she who when interviewing stares at a politician’s answer with baleful disbelief. (Black Inc., 2015) 10. ‘Dublinesque’ by Enrique Vila-Matas, a Spanish novel in which the main character “sets off for Dublin on the pretext … to hold, on Bloomsday, a funeral for the age of print,” so an add to the large literature speaking to the work of Joyce and especially that kaleidoscopic wonder, ‘Ulysses’ (Harvill Secker, 2012)

Bible

Last month some residents of Florida succeeded in banning a number of books from public libraries on grounds of ‘wokeness’. One of these books was the Bible. It seems a lost cause banning a book that many others say should be in every home. It certainly contradicts those in the same state who treat every word as literal truth, bibliolaters who put the book on a pedestal where conversation ends. Perhaps, as happens when books are banned, this will cause a rush in sales as secret Bible readers search out the ‘woke’ bits. 

Historically, a problem for Bible-banners and bibliolaters everywhere is that the Bible is not a book. It is a collection of books; the Greek word Biblia itself means ‘the books’. Long may it remain so, because it means living with awkward, challenging, creative expressions about God and Creation and humans that cross-reference each other but also speak with their own voice. Martin Luther would have banned the Letter of James from his Bible because it speaks too forcefully for salvation by works, a key complaint in his theology. And presumably those targeting libraries in Florida have their own unfavourite books of the Bible, though which ones is not clear in newspaper reports. As it is, none of these people have any hope of suppressing the canon, or the truth for that matter. 

Christianity is sometimes credited with the invention of the book, or blamed depending on your point of view. The rush for gospels, epistles and other revelations in the early church led to demands for a handy format that improved on the cumbersome scroll. The result was the revolution known as the codex, folded pages that could be stitched together, then turned easily. This revolution in the management and distribution of knowledge was followed over a thousand years later by printing, a revolution that brought all the books of the Bible together into one affordable volume for the first time. Add to this Erasmus’ revolution of translating into vernaculars and the Reformation was bound (literally) to happen.   

The digital revolution of our own time must be a nightmare for the do-badders of Florida, as readers order online or download their favourite book of the Bible, google the latest biblical quote to find and compare in 20 reputable English translations, scroll down to find the tested words of song, prophecy and good news. 

[Reflection for the pew notes on the weekend of the Book Fair, the 23^rd Sunday in Ordinary Time, the 4^th of September, St Peter’s Church, Eastern Hill, Melbourne]

Photograph: we don’t know the exact number of English versions of the Bible, let alone portions of the Bible, but here are a number of them being sorted on the Bible tables at the St Peter’s Bookroom Book Fair, held this weekend 3^rd September 10 am-4 pm, 4^th September 10 am-2 pm at St Peter’s Eastern Hill in the city,