I'm in Translation!

In 2012, Aussie poet, academic and publisher Kit Kelen invited a number of Australian and New Zealand poets to send him one poem, with notes which could give any translator an understanding, not only of the text but such things as the feelings, nuances, and cultural background – those things which are often ‘lost in translation.’ 142 poems with notes were published in a volume called Notes for the Translators. I was thrilled to be included.

Now a selection of these has appeared in a new book: Close Encounters of the Poetic Kind, where 23 of the original 142, with their notes, are presented in the English, as well as in Bosnian and Turkish. It was launched, on May 8 this year, at the University of Sarajevo. 

Again, I’m honoured to have been selected – from among so many brilliant, distinguished Aussie and NZ poets whose work I know and admire. 

I don’t have details of how the editors (who are also the translators) made their selections, but perhaps it can be inferred from what they say in their Foreword:

‘We hope … that you will find out something new about Australia and New Zealand. Or, at least, that you will confirm the fact that we humans are more or less the same, with similar life problems and joys, regardless of where and when we are living. That’s why we want this poetry to enter your home.’

(My piece was about a quilt I crocheted, and simultaneously about the breakdown of a marriage.)

Launching the 'Pentridge Trilogy'

(or trifecta, as some of my friends are calling it!)

I invited local award-winning poet and educator Sarah Temporal, the convenor of the very successful Poets Out Loud performances, to launch the books. I was thrilled with the things she said! 

Here she is making the speech:

And here is what she said:

My name is Sarah Temporal. I’m thrilled to be with you today to launch this wonderful trilogy from Rosemary Nissen-Wade. When Rosemary invited me, I had no idea how profound this work would be. As she declares: it’s a pilgrimage. And, what a privilege it is as a reader to walk that pilgrimage with her. 

 

'What is the story you have never told?' she ponders. 'The one that will free you to tell all the rest'. 

 

In the heyday of Melbourne's notorious Pentridge Prison in the 80s, Rosemary Nissen (as she was known then) introduced a series of poetry workshops for the inmates, including those in the high security division. She did not know that there she would encounter both love and tragedy.

This extraordinary trilogy comprises: the memoir of her life-changing experiences there, Breaking Into Pentridge Prison: Memories of Darkness and Light; the re-released anthology of prisoners' poetry created in those workshops, Blood From Stone; and a chapbook of Rosemary's own poems and prose-poems, revealing for the first time the most personal aspect of that story, Letters to a Dead Man. 

 

One of my catch-cries is: poetry is for everyone. As a poetry educator and community arts producer I know that the most incredible poetry does not belong to universities or libraries, that it flourishes anywhere there is a willing listener and permission to share what's most important. And when I first met Rosemary to chat about starting a poetry night here in Murwillumbah, I was thrilled to learn that she had been a key player in the Melbourne-based poetry movement that inscribed those values on Australian poetry. The Poets Union / 'rat bag school of poetry' as they called themselves insisted that poetry should reflect and be represented in the reality of people's lives, wherever that was. Behind the bluestone walls of Pentridge there were poets… Rosemary went in at their request.

 

And yet I was not prepared for this book. Breaking Into Pentridge Prison recounts with compelling honesty and stark precision the experiences of those workshops. The electric atmosphere of free expression, deepening conversation in an environment that prohibited any kind of vulnerability. Friendships developing with men she calls 'Youngest,' 'Tallest,' 'Sweet-face.' Navigating mind games, threats, stresses and strains; and the toxic atmosphere leaking into life outside. 'Pentridge would warp anyone.' 

 

Yet, most surprising, the central personal thread is a love story. Which I can't spoil for you now – I can tell you that I found it affirming and heartbreaking all at once. I was so invested I couldn't put it down. I don't think it could have been handled by any other writer. 

 

One of the remarkable achievements of this memoir is that Rosemary fastidiously avoids any sensationalism in her descriptions of the prison and its horror. It makes the work all the more impactful, I feel, to follow an author who deals in the utmost integrity with her subjects: placing humanity at the centre, even in a setting that denied these men humanity in some cases their entire adult lives. 

 

Although each of these works stands alone, they will make you hungry for more: dip into any one and you’ll start seeking and gathering threads of the other two. 

 

The prisoners' own works are anthologised in Blood from Stone, capturing the reality of life behind prison walls as only they can. These poems are a cry from the deepest parts of human experience; a cry to he heard. Included alongside the workshop participants' poetry, at their insistence, are also pieces from visiting poets who tutored there: Myron Lysenko, Linda Stevenson, Nicholas G Coleman, and Rosemary herself. 

 

Letters to a Dead Man, I read breathlessly. I have never before understood how vital the link between poetry and memory is: here is a whole personal history that is so alive and immediate, as if it happened yesterday. These poems vibrate, a mark of having been carried for half a lifetime. As poet Chris Mansell says, Rosemary has been able to make love walk through time although it cannot walk through walls.  

 

This is a body of work that gives voice to the most pivotal and profound experiences. Tenderly, poetically, and with unflinching directness, Rosemary brings to light an important social history that might otherwise lie forgotten. More importantly though, she shares with us the most intimate of human stories; one that, I hope, sets her free to tell all the rest. 

 

I am excited for all of you to delve into reading these books, to enjoy, discover, to witness and treasure these remarkable stories and poems. It is my pleasure to declare the Pentridge trilogy launched.

It's Really Happening!

 

I'm crazy busy preparing for the local book launch on 25 November!

The three books are being released initially as a package, at a discount price. This deal will remain in place for the rest of 2023. Katrin, of Pentridge Voices (also my layout advisor and cover designer) had suggested – when we had wild thoughts that I could travel to Melbourne and launch the books in the Pentridge historical section – that we tie them in bundles with red ribbon. I don't find travel very easy any more, but I've adopted her idea for the local launch. As you see, I've started preparing the bundles.

They'll be pre-signed – yes, by my own hand, over and over again – but if people want a personal message added, they'll need to take them out of the ribbons and line up. They probably will anyway, as my cover artist, Lisi Klein, will be there too, ready to sign the two volumes featuring her lovely artwork, and that will be something only attendees at the launch can get.

Some of the RSVPs are slow to come in – get on to it please, guys, if you read this – but we already have more acceptances than the Community Centre has chairs! Luckily they can borrow some from the adjacent Nullum House drop-in centre and the Youth Centre.  The space is plenty big enough to take more. It would be good to know the exact number we'll need, also to make sure we have the right quantities of books and refreshments. Never mind, I'll just aim to over-cater!

I've had a look to see where we'll set up the refreshment table, the book buying table, the book inscribing table; and where the power points are for the mic and the card-reader. Friends have offered to do the food, and to help set up the space beforehand. I've bought more tea bags, coffee bags, paper plates and serviettes than we're likely to need....

Meanwhile I've posted the legal deposit copies, review copies, and gift copies to people who were particularly helpful and supportive in making these books happen.

It's really real!!!

Curses and/or Blessings

This self-publishing lurk can get a bit fraught! But sometimes what seems bad can turn out good.

Bad

A kind friend volunteered to organise a place for me to have my book launch. I followed up with a phone call; all seemed good. Then COVID happened, and then major flooding happened. The place was closed for months for renovations, and to raise it above flood level. When it reopened, I finally went to look it over and immediately realised it wouldn’t be big enough. The manager, a very nice woman, was cool about the sudden cancellation. Then I had to scramble to find another venue.

I soon realised I would need Public Liability insurance for most places, which I don’t have. 

Good

I approached Pottsville Beach Neighbourhood Centre, where I’ve volunteered for a number of years, running writing workshops, and also was on the Committee for a while, to see if I could hire one of their rooms. The Centre Manager, Angela, thought their spaces wouldn’t be big enough either, but suggested that because of my volunteer status they could sponsor the event, which is related to the work I’ve done for them, and cover me for Public Liability somewhere else. My local Community Centre is an ideal space, and available, so that's where it's  happening. Whew!

Bad

Because of the printing delay I mentioned in my last update, I had to move the launch date a couple of weeks. I'd intended to have it on my 84th birthday on November 12.

It's now happening on November 25th – bringing it close enough to Christmas that people are starting to get a bit careful about where they spend their money. I’m releasing the three books as a package deal. Even at 20% discount, with signed copies and all, it’s a big ask at this time of year. Also everyone starts to get a bit busy now. Among other things, it means that a geographically distant friend, who had been going to visit me at the time of the launch, can’t come now that the date has been moved. She’ll make it up here later, which is lovely, and still wants the books, but it’s a disappointment to us both.

Even worse

Two of the men whose work is featured in Blood from Stone and who are also part of the story I tell in the memoir, one a particularly close friend for many years, died before I could send them copies of the books, which I had much looked forward to doing – one suddenly, after a fall; the other after a year-long illness which it had appeared he was at last overcoming. If I hadn’t been delayed by having to do a reprint, they would have received the books in good time to have a read.

Good?

The men who died knew the books were happening, and approved. One had even read the first draft of the memoir and pronounced it good.

However, the times I deal with in the books were long ago for them, and painful to revisit. If they had to leave us, perhaps it’s better that, as it turned out, they didn’t have occasion to revisit that painful past yet again via the published books. At least, it’s some small comfort to think so.

Bad

I discovered some imperfections in Blood from Stone and realised that this too had been produced in the wrong version, before final proofing and corrections – too late now to order a reprint. 

Good-ish

Those who have seen the printed book tell me nothing leaps out at them. I realise most of the typos are things which might be noticed, but the reader's mind would skip over, automatically supplying the corrections. 

There are two typos to which that wouldn't apply – one changes the meaning of what is said – but I have been able to type the correct versions in matching font, and am painstakingly cutting and pasting them in manually over the mistakes – in every copy! Tedious and time-consuming, but I don't choose to let the books go out with crucial errors.

Ironic? Spooky?

The dream, or rather nightmare about the launch, which I recounted in my previous post, included this:

 I looked for a copy of the memoir to read something from that as planned. The only copy I could put my hands on was wrapped in a sheet of paper on which the head of the printer’s production team had written all the reasons why he could not completely carry out my instructions for corrections, and what he had done instead. The book itself was a mess! Some of the corrections were on pages badly pasted over the old ones. Others he hadn’t done at all. And that was the only copy I could find. I clutched it, aghast, with no idea what to do next.

In real life, the book doesn’t look a mess; all the books look beautiful. And it's not the memoir but the anthology in which some errors are uncorrected and others are (neatly!) pasted over. But I can't help thinking that was something of a psychic dream.

Bad

You can’t find these books on Amazon yet. When I did my survey as to whether people wanted paperbacks or ebooks, the overwhelming majority preferred paperbacks. I was advised it would be cheaper to do a print run than POD, so I estimated what I thought I could sell and ordered that number. When I get rid of them, I’ll go to POD and ebooks. 

In the past, being a lover of ebooks myself, I have wished authors wouldn’t wait until after the release of their paperbacks to bring out the ebooks. Now I understand why!

Good

It’s my intention they will be available through Amazon later. Meanwhile, I’ve set up a business account which I’ll link to my PayPal, and there will be a link on my website for you to order your copies. Just let me get through the forthcoming local launch first. Then I’ll let all you people who don’t live in the same town as me (or even the same country in many cases) know the details. I’m looking at doing a Zoom launch for you, too! 

Hang in there, and I will keep you posted.

OMG! NIGHTMARE!

Don’t worry, it was a literal nightmare, not a metaphorical one. But horrifying while I was experiencing it. 

I wouldn’t be a bit stressed about these books, by any chance?

Background

The local printer I chose is not primarily a book printer, also some of her equipment was wrecked last year in the latest and worst of our recent big floods, so she currently sends those jobs out to what she calls her production team. They do a beautiful job of the physical production; however they managed to print the wrong version of the memoir – the one BEFORE I had corrected the hard copy printer’s proof. This has meant a reprint, at no extra cost to me. That took the printer, who was as upset as I was, some time to negotiate. I was then asked to go through and highlight particular pages where the correct version differed from what I got. After that it seemed to take forever, and I have been getting toey because I'm eager to send out review copies, invitations to the launch, etc. I'm releasing the three books as a package, so the other two titles have had to wait until this one is finalised.

We had definite word the books would be with the printer last Friday and with me by Monday. This did not happen. Following my Tarot reading, indicating that someone was sitting on them, I phoned the printer. She contacted the production team again, and was told they had been dispatched, but only yesterday. I will get them today. Whew! (Part of me says I'll believe it when I see it.)

That's what I went to sleep with.

In the nightmare ...

The book launch was taking place at my friend Maureen’s home. 

In real life this has never been the planned venue. But Maureen has always been very supportive of me, and did a lot of fund-raising to help get me to Texas in 2006 when I was a guest of the Austin International Poetry Festival – which provided my accommodation while I was there, and other perks, but not my travelling costs from Australia. I can see how the dream would have come up with this scenario, particularly as I have had to find a new venue at short notice for the launch of these books. 

All was going well. The guests took refreshment, seated around long tables, while an old friend of Maureen’s and mine said lovely things about me in a launching speech. Stacks of the three books which make up my ‘trilogy’ were dotted around the room for people to purchase later. Then suddenly Maureen told me there wasn’t much time left, as the speechifier had gone on a bit long, and people were expecting the event to end shortly. I looked for a copy of the memoir to read something from that as planned. The only copy I could put my hands on was wrapped in a sheet of paper on which the head of the printer’s production team had written all the reasons why he could not completely carry out my instructions for corrections, and what he had done instead. The book itself was a mess! Some of the corrections were on pages badly pasted over the old ones. Others he hadn’t done at all. And that was the only copy I could find. I clutched it, aghast, with no idea what to do next.  

Thankfully, I then woke up.

Yes, I am anxious. I had asked to see a hard copy proof of the corrected version but that request got lost somewhere. The printer assures me she has checked everything very carefully this time. I won’t be happy until they are delivered this afternoon and I can go through the reprint in detail.

(Meanwhile I am hosting the online community Poets and Storytellers United today, preparing for a post-class review of my latest Reiki II students at my home in two days' time, choosing one of my Beltane poems for the next gathering of the local Goddess circle, and drafting a launch invitation as well as a press release for potential book reviewers. Slowing down in my senior years? Not much.)

Image in the Public Domain.  Edvard Munch, 1893, The Scream, oil, tempera and pastel on cardboard, 91 x 73 cm, National Gallery of Norway.jpg

What About Those Books, Then?

People keep asking me this. (Hey, it's nice that they're impatient.) 

Examining the hard copy printer's proofs resulted in some changes and improvements. It has taken time to get everything right. The two poetry books are done; I am still waiting on the final printing of the memoir, which is under way.

Meanwhile, the date of the 'Voice' referendum here in Australia has been announced as October 14th – when I was thinking of doing a Zoom launch for interested parties who don't live close enough to me to attend in person. 

I've decide it would be insane to have a launch on the same date as such a major national event. Instead I'm going to start with the in-person local launch on November 12th (my 84th birthday). So there is not quite such a big hurry to get the physical volumes into all our hot little hands.

Will I have a Zoom launch at all? I'm not sure at this point, but if I do it will be some time before Christmas. Maybe advance orders will be enough. Or perhaps I'll get the live launch videoed so it's available forever.

I'm starting to plan things like where to send review copies, who to invite to the launch (partly influenced by how many the space can hold) and who I'll ask to read poems on that occasion on behalf of interstate poets who can't attend. (While two of the books are all poetry, even the memoir contains some poems, not all mine.)

My wonderful local friend, brilliant poet Sarah Temporal, has kindly agreed to do the official launching, i.e. the speechifying to open the proceedings. Another dear friend offered, unasked, to help with refreshments.

I sometimes feel that I'm in a sort of limbo, but really everything is moving forward, just somewhat invisibly for now.

The Printer’s Proofs Have Arrived!

My excitement levels are almost unbearable! 

But then I put that aside, to get on with the job of checking the manuscripts for the final time. 

Already I discover why hard copy proofs are so necessary – there’s a layout problem with one volume. I hadn’t realised until I saw it ‘in the flesh,’ so to speak, instead of scrolling down onscreen.

A lesson in trust

Initially I forgot to ask the printer to supply proofs before going ahead! It’s so long since I was involved in the production of a physical book, not just ebooks. That hiccup made me wonder if something had suddenly gone wrong with the serendipity with which this project has so far been blessed. (What? Did the Universe not support it after all?)

Oh, me of little faith! The printer had only got as far as doing the covers when I realised and called a halt – and the covers are lovely. Whew!

Then, the resulting delay actually worked to my advantage. 

I’d invited my stepdaughter to visit, to help me (finally!) go through her late father’s papers. I’d been putting that off too long. She came to stay for a few days this week, we got the job done, and in the course of it we found among his papers some of mine – including a great photo of me at the time of the Pentridge poetry workshops which my memoir is all about. I’d forgotten I had it. 

In fact, I put out a call a little while ago, to old friends and colleagues, to see if anyone had snaps of me from that era. Seems they’re quite rare! But one friend sent me a couple from only a few years later, and I chose one of those for the book. The photo my stepdaughter and I came across is very much better, and from the right time. 

If I hadn’t caused a delay to the printing by being belated in requesting proofs, and if Cecilia hadn’t come to help me with her father's papers this particular week, just before the proofs arrived, I’d never have found that photo in time to insert it into the book in place of the other.

Serendipity is still happening!

Note: Yes, printer’s proof copies usually come bound, but this printer’s binding machine was damaged in the last of the severe floods we've had here in recent years, so at present she sends the binding out to a colleague. It's not essential at this stage, and would be an extra cost and more delay.

The Books Are With the Printer!

I’m excited that I can now share with you the covers of the Pentridge trilogy, as I am calling the forthcoming three books.  

(To see the writing on the back covers more clearly, click on each pic.)

The trilogy label might be a little misleading, as I wrote only two of the three, although I have some writing in the third (which was actually the first). But I can claim a degree of authorship of that one too. 

The first edition of Blood from Stone, the poetry anthology emanating from Pentridge Prison, was published in 1982 under my then imprint Abalone Press. I am also the publisher of this new edition, under my own name.

Simultaneously with writing my memoir of that time in my life, and with all the renewed interest in both the history of Pentridge and that of the Melbourne poetry scene of the eighties, it seemed the time was right for a new edition of Blood from Stone.

The Memoir, as you'll see from the first illustration, is called Breaking into Pentridge Prison: Memories of Darkness and Light. (There was plenty of both!)

Then there’s the little spin-off chapbook, Letters to a Dead Man, which can stand alone, but is directly related to the memoir.

I was very lucky to find a local printer. Like most things associated with this project, it happened serendipitously. I didn’t think we had any book printers in this town, but I had lunch with a friend who mentioned that she was getting her family history published as a book by one of the printers here. It’s not the major part of their business, but I’ve now seen samples of the books they’ve produced and they do a lovely job. It’s a nice coincidence that I have a history with this printer, from many years ago when I was conducting a lot of Reiki classes and they used to do all the printing associated with that.

It’s particularly convenient to use a local printer, because I’ve decided against travelling to Melbourne for a book launch there. Travel’s a bit arduous for me these days, as I age, so it will be a Zoom launch instead, in October, and later a local launch in person. It’s a smallish print run initially. The plan is to go to POD and ebooks a little later on.  Stay tuned!