Academic literature on the topic 'Brisbane Courier'

To date, histories of literary culture in Queensland have not paid particular attention to newspapers, despite the fact that metropolitan and regional publications carried considerable material that allows us insight into the ways in which books were circulated and evaluated. Reviews and essays sat alongside advertisements run by department stores, specialist retailers, large distributors and newsagents, in turn jostling for attention with interviews with authors, poems, reports of literary gatherings and substantial critical essays. This article offers a ‘case study’ of literary materials in The Brisbane Courier, part of a project on the representation of literature (broadly conceived) in Australian newspapers from 1930. The year 1930 was chosen because the interwar years are so frequently characterised, in discussion of the critical study of Australian literature in particular, as a time of neglect, and the Depression as a catalyst for the gradual narrowing of literary horizons. Our larger aim is to understand this historical period better, as well as to calibrate the discussion of Australian literature against the discussion of literature generally. By focusing on a single year for data collection, we have been able to assemble a rich and detailed picture of ‘talk about books’. This, in turn, has enabled us to analyse the significant differences between, for example, the ways in which books are discussed and represented as commercial and aesthetic objects in regional and metropolitan newspapers (see Dale and Thomson 2010).

AbstractBrisbane has sometimes been represented as a bulwark of literary traditionalism against the advances of poetic modernism in the southern capitals during the first half of the twentieth century. But as William Hatherell showed in The Third Metropolis, modernism had a brief but intense flourishing in the northern city during and immediately after World War II. This article traces the reception and practice of poetic modernism in Brisbane even earlier than that, in the period between the wars, both in the form of a vigorous critical debate over ‘modernistic poetry’ in the Courier-Mail and elsewhere, and also in the composition and publication of a significant quantity of self-consciously modernist poetry in Brisbane's evening daily, the Telegraph, with the active encouragement of the paper's literary editor, Colin Bingham, from 1930 to 1939.

This grainy old photograph from The Courier-Mail of 2 April 1971, under the headline ‘The Three Ancients’, shows three grey-haired men — James Devaney (identified as being 80 years old), Frank Francis (75), and Robert S. Byrnes (71) — standing around a middle-aged woman who sits at a Victorian-style desk in front of a photograph of the Queen. The caption explains this puzzling image. As an April Fool's Day gesture, the self-styled ‘three ancients’, all former presidents of the Queensland Branch of the Federation of Australian Writers (FAW(Q)), are singing a song called ‘Three Ex-P's’ (to the tune of ‘Three Blind Mice’) to the current president, Maureen Freer. The three men, we are assured, ‘have made a large contribution to the cultural activities of Queensland’.

As a young journalist at the Courier-Mail newspaper, my mother once met the famous British children's writer Enid Blyton, who stopped in Brisbane briefly. There was a press conference in a hangar out at the airport. Many important people were there — the Australian publisher, someone from the British High Commission, someone from the Prime Minister's Office, along with reporters from Sydney and Melbourne — and my mother, my beautiful young mother, in a panama hat with gloves and white glasses, excited to be there, to be amongst it.

The woman who demands assistance from her husband in her home is failing in her part of the marriage bargain, and the husband who gives it is losing his prestige as head of the house.— Letter from ‘Mother’ of New Farm, Courier-Mail, 6 February 1939, p 14The letter from ‘Mother’ in the Brisbane suburb of New Farm endorsed the assumed and actual centrality of unpaid work within the home for most white women in Queensland — especially for wives — in the interwar years. It accepted a division of labour in which men were defined primarily as breadwinners; by contrast, and despite female participation in the formal economy, the major role for women was that of wife and mother. This allocation of responsibilities was a fundamental component of the gender segregation which characterised work and the Queensland economy in this period.

Based on the premise of journalism as a text resulting from intellectual endeavour, this article undertakes a sustained examination of the thought of author and newspaper editor Charles Brunsdon Fletcher (1859–1946) in relation to Asia and the Pacific. It examines three books and lead newspaper editorials published during Fletcher's time as editor of the Brisbane Courier (1898–1903) and the Sydney Morning Herald (1918–37). Fletcher argued that geographic proximity necessitated closer ties between Australia and her neighbours, while the White Australia policy had restricted Australia's potential for economic and population growth – particularly in the tropical north. Such views placed Fletcher among a small but articulate movement of the period, which encouraged greater understanding of Australia's regional neighbours. In identifying such sentiment in newspaper editorials, this research reveals greater diversity in opinion in Australian journalism on migration and race than was previously known.

AbstractThis article provides a synopsis of the spread of epidemic influenza throughout Queensland in 1919–20.1 Statewide the story was, to a greater or lesser extent, the same – regardless of occupation or whether one was from the city or the bush, on the coast or in the far west, no one was immune; even being 300 kilometres from the nearest epicentre of the outbreak was no guarantee of safety. An examination of the state’s newspapers, particularly the Brisbane Courier, makes it evident that outbreaks of influenza erupted almost simultaneously throughout the state. Aided and abetted by Queensland’s network of railways and coastal shipping, together with the crowding of people at country shows, race meetings and celebrations of the formal conclusion of World War I, the disease was swiftly diffused throughout the state. This article hopes to give the reader a sense of how the sheer scale and urgency of the crisis at times overwhelmed authorities and communities.

In 2006 Queensland's Courier-Mail was relaunched in a ‘compact’ format. This study compares one week of the broadsheet format of The Courier-Mail (the third week of September 2005) with the corresponding week from the new compact format a year later. The study demonstrates that the new format of the newspaper was not merely an aesthetic change: increased advertising and a more regular use of pullouts were accompanied by often-significant changes in editorial content. Refining Sparks' model of print media fields (2000: 14–15), the authors demonstrate how this change in positioning of the newspaper might be mapped against other print media and suggest that this model might also have wider application in understanding a media landscape experiencing legislative and technological change.

We know about the first day at Wolston Park from a report in theBrisbane Courierof 1865. On 12 January of that year, seven prison warders (two of them women) and ten police constables escorted 57 male and twelve female lunatics from Brisbane Gaol ‘to the new Asylum at Woogaroo’. Since 1859, Queensland's insane had no longer been sent to Sydney, but were lodged instead at the Brisbane Gaol. Now the asylum was ready, its residents were loaded into cabs and taken down to the river. There they boarded a steamer namedSettlerand were conveyed down the river to the landing point near Woogaroo Creek. The name of the asylum hinted at the reality that this was Aboriginal land: the word Woogaroo, so it was remembered in the 1930s, being a corruption of an Aboriginal word meaning ‘to step over a person lying down’. Aboriginal people would be among the earliest inhabitants of the asylum, but not in great numbers. Instead, the institution was rapidly filled from its earliest days with the immigrant settlers who made up most of the colony's growing population.

We live in a patriarchal society, which by definition means that it is a system in which descent is traced through the male line. This is not where its power lies. Patriarchy is so pervasive that it tends to appear natural, but the reality is that it permeates most aspects of our society today and it has done so for the last 4000 years (French, 1992). But what is it that is so pervasive? Under the patriarchal system most males are granted a status over the majority of females, thus males become powerful, respected and influential, while females become powerless, devalued and silent. It is "a system in which women are rendered invisib1e" (Erika, 1986, p. 53). But to choose to ignore women's consciousness is to miss the most re1evant area of women's creative se1fexpression in society, which in turn denies women freedom in behaviour.

This thesis examines the role of conservative newspaper proprietors and editors to generate support for war against the Boers in South Africa. The thesis utilises Rune Ottosen's theoretical model concerning newspapers creating a pro-war mentality, and S.E. Finer's theory on the influences of the military on civilian Government. The pivotal supportive roles of Governor Lamington and Premiers Dickson and Philp and the oppositional role of Premier Dawson are also examined.

In 1940 a small group of mathematicians and classicists began to work on Japanese codes with the encouragement of the Australian Army, and several of them began to learn Japanese. In the same year the Censorship Office in Melbourne launched a Japanese course to meet the needs for censors with a command of Japanese. This was the first Allied response to the demand for Japanese linguists. Some of the graduates were posted to Wireless Units in Queensland or the Northern Territory where they derived intelligence from Japanese wireless communications. After US forces had been forced to abandon the Philippines, General Douglas MacArthur had set up his headquarters in Australia. While the US Navy established the Fleet Radio Unit Melbourne, MacArthur created Central Bureau in Brisbane to deal with encrypted messages. This was staffed by graduates of US language schools, the Censorship Office School in Melbourne and Bedford Japanese School. Soon afterwards the Allied Translator and Interpreter Section was formed, which provided linguists to follow the troops as they fought their way towards Japan: they interrogated prisoners and translated documents found on the battlefield.

Once perceived as a colonial backwater shaped by convicts, bushmen, laconic working class, and ANZACs, Australia has now asserted itself as a nation with strong and admired cultural attributes; home to world-class cities, globally recognised personalities, citizens of growing sophistication and a range of admired cultural institutions. One intriguing observation is that this accumulation of cultural capital has been mobilised by Australia’s emerging reputation in the realms of food and drink. Is Australia’s cultural ‘coming out’ indebted to its contemporary food and beverage professionals? Australia’s European heritage, and consequent worldwide exposure, began in the late 18th century. Before European contact, Australia’s knowledge of the world beyond its seaboards was limited to visits by the Macassan Indonesians fishing for trepang, or sea cucumber. In 1788, under pressure to alleviate pressure on their groaning penal system, exacerbated by the loss of the American colonies in the previous decade, the British sent Arthur Phillip to Sydney Cove to establish the first permanent European settlement in Terra Australis. Within a few decades, penal colonies were founded in all the other current Australian states – in or near their capitals; Hobart, Melbourne, Adelaide, Brisbane and Perth. The military, free settlers and emancipated convicts brought with them their largely Anglo-Celtic heritage, habitus and culture – architecture, agricultural and later industrial economies, political, religious and social institutions, clothing, social mores and rituals, and of course food and drink. Many of these, arguably, were ill suited to the remote, sparse and harsh antipodean environment. Yet little changed and the tyranny of distance ensured that what change there was would be tediously slow.

The Australian Catholic University (ACU National at www.acu.edu.au) is a public university funded by the Australian Government. There are six campuses across the country, located in Brisbane, Queensland; North Sydney, New South Wales; Strathfield, New South Wales; Canberra, Australian Capital Territory (ACT); Ballarat, Victoria; and Melbourne, Victoria. The university serves a total of approximately 27,000 students, including both full- and part-time students, and those enrolled in undergraduate and postgraduate studies. Through fostering and advancing knowledge in education, health, commerce, the humanities, science and technology, and the creative arts, ACU National seeks to make specific and targeted contributions to its local, national, and international communities. The university explicitly engages the social, ethical, and religious dimensions of the questions it faces in teaching, research, and service. In its endeavors, it is guided by a fundamental concern for social justice, equity, and inclusivity. The university is open to all, irrespective of religious belief or background. ACU National opened its doors in 1991 following the amalgamation of four Catholic tertiary institutions in eastern Australia. The institutions that merged to form the university had their origins in the mid-17th century when religious orders and institutes became involved in the preparation of teachers for Catholic schools and, later, nurses for Catholic hospitals. As a result of a series of amalgamations, relocations, transfers of responsibilities, and diocesan initiatives, more than twenty historical entities have contributed to the creation of ACU National. Today, ACU National operates within a rapidly changing educational and industrial context. Student numbers are increasing, areas of teaching and learning have changed and expanded, e-learning plays an important role, and there is greater emphasis on research. In its 2005–2009 Strategic Plan, the university commits to the adoption of quality teaching, an internationalized curriculum, as well as the cultivation of generic skills in students, to meet the challenges of the dynamic university and information environment (ACU National, 2008). The Graduate Diploma of Education (Secondary) Program at ACU Canberra Situated in Australia’s capital city, the Canberra campus is one of the smallest campuses of ACU National, where there are approximately 800 undergraduate and 200 postgraduate students studying to be primary or secondary school teachers through the School of Education (ACT). Other programs offered at this campus include nursing, theology, social work, arts, and religious education. A new model of pre-service secondary teacher education commenced with the introduction of the Graduate Diploma of Education (Secondary) program at this campus in 2005. It marked an innovative collaboration between the university and a cohort of experienced secondary school teachers in the ACT and its surrounding region. This partnership was forged to allow student teachers undertaking the program to be inducted into the teaching profession with the cooperation of leading practitioners from schools in and around the ACT. In the preparation of novices for the teaching profession, an enduring challenge is to create learning experiences capable of transforming practice, and to instill in the novices an array of professional skills, attributes, and competencies (Putnam & Borko, 2000). Another dimension of the beginning teacher experience is the need to bridge theory and practice, and to apply pedagogical content knowledge in real-life classroom practice. During the one-year Graduate Diploma program, the student teachers undertake two four-week block practicum placements, during which they have the opportunity to observe exemplary lessons, as well as to commence teaching. The goals of the practicum include improving participants’ access to innovative pedagogy and educational theory, helping them situate their own prior knowledge regarding pedagogy, and assisting them in reflecting on and evaluating their own practice. Each student teacher is paired with a more experienced teacher based at the school where he/she is placed, who serves as a supervisor and mentor. In 2007, a new dimension to the teaching practicum was added to facilitate online peer mentoring among the pre-service teachers at the Canberra campus of ACU National, and provide them with opportunities to reflect on teaching prior to entering full-time employment at a school. The creation of an online community to facilitate this mentorship and professional development process forms the context for the present case study. While on their practicum, students used social software in the form of collaborative web logging (blogging) and threaded voice discussion tools that were integrated into the university’s course management system (CMS), to share and reflect on their experiences, identify critical incidents, and invite comment on their responses and reactions from peers.

Barbara van den Broek (1932-2001) trained as an architect in Auckland, New Zealand before moving to Brisbane with her husband and fellow architect Joop, where they established an architectural practice. van den Broek went on to run an office as a sole practitioner and took on architecture and landscape architecture projects. Over the course of her career she completed post-graduate diplomas in Town and Country Planning, Landscape Architecture and Education, and a Master of Science – Environmental Studies, and collaborated on a number of key projects in Queensland and Papua New Guinea (PNG). Our paper will build an account of her career. In assessing the significance of her contribution to landscape architecture, planning and architecture in Australasia, it will bring a number of other spheres into the frame: conservation and Australia’s environment movement; landscape design and the bush garden; and van den Broek’s personal development that included artistic expression, single parenthood, teaching, and the navigation of male-dominated professional environments to develop a practice that contributed to town planning projects in cities across Australia, and made significant contributions to landscape projects in Queensland and PNG.