New Zealand Books

Bernard Smith is a brilliant writer & art historian with a significant position in Australia's cultural affairs.This book is the result of mulling over the art of our times for the best part of 70 years. His books on the art of Australia & the Pacific Basin have long been the standard texts on the subject. He is still a lively correspondent in the small, intellectual Australian magazines. Even given these accomplishments, I was mightily impressed with his overview of Modernism, presented herein. I'd stored his auto-biography,'The Boy Aeodotus' by my bed shelf longer than I care to admit, deterred by the endistanced tone he took in referring to his formative self in the third person. Recently overcoming this, I delighted in his ability to communicate his brave and passionate curiosity, and, breathlessly, plunged into this tome. His notion of the 'formalesque' was initially an obstacle, until I was absorbed by his argument. He positions this 'style' as emergent in the 1890s & exhausted by the 1960s (coincidental with the 'new' brace of critical art writers such as Leo Steinberg & Michael Fried). In addition to art movements, Smith gathers social, political, economic & philosophical trends to urge his case. The sub-headings to each chapter, in themselves, would make this a superb intellectual venture. His history of art theorizing is a masterful summary that will clear the nostrils. His emphasis on Surrealism's impact on the 20th century is well-placed. This is vigorous, pacey writing, free of catch-cry paternalism and reminiscant of the generous, Olympian vision of Jacques Barzun's,'From Dawn To Decadence'.

At last a book that shows the art of Maori tatooing in its full glory.Fantastic pictures of original Maori body art make this a "must-buy" for anyone interested in tattooing or the study of ancient cultures.Truly awesome.

I have been studying the history of the Moriori for a while in order to understand the people as best as I can from afar, and Michael King's book nearly put the Moriori people in my hands. The collection of photos and other images showed me what they looked like, what they wore, and a bit of what the islands themselves look like. The writing is clear and, as far as I could tell, open and honest in its telling. Michael King did the best he (or anyone) could have done in gathering the information, organizing it, shifting through the propoganda and falsified information, and writing it out so that anyone could learn about the Moriori and their fate.

I highly recommend this book if you want to get the best picture you can from one source.

Ordering it directly from a New Zealand publisher was the least expensive option for me.

In sailing terms, the 1995 small boat anti nuclear protest at Moruroa was amazing achievement.

For reasons best known to themselves, the 1995 small boat anti nuclear protest at Moruroa was largely ignored by the world's sailing press and yet in sailing terms alone it was a phenomenal achievement. Given just 6 weeks for preparations, some 36 boats attended mostly from New Zealand and were largely crewed by amateurs sailors rather than experienced nuclear protesters. The voyage itself was the distance of two trans-Atlantic crossings, held in the middle of winter and with the outward leg mainly to windward. Once at Moruroa, there were no bars or beaches for relaxing, just a hostile reception from French navy and aircraft, and yet, inspite of gear failures, crew disagreements and some appalling weather, all boats returned home safely.

From a small boat perspective, 'The Moruroa Blues' gives a fine account of day to day life in the 'Coffee Shop' - the name given to a featureless patch of ocean to the north west of the atoll entrance which was used as an informal meeting place. In an easy readable style, Lynn Pistoll's describes protest tactics and how they learnt to anticipate and manage antagonism from the French military. These events are an important part of our anti nuclear history and should be told. The 'Moruroa Blues' is a compelling read and I thoroughly recommend it.

I can guarantee that this is the best researched mystery ever written. I enjoyed every moment -- from the first moment of research to reading the ultimate result. A terrific book

Amazing detail ..... brings a forgotten vibrant past to life once more

This book is one of the best rhyming children's books I own. As a preschool teacher I read this book to numerous children who all loved it. Here is an excerpt. "My Aunt Mary went shopping and she bought a giraffe." Next page. "My Aunt Mary went shopping and she bought a giraffe, and a scarf for the giraffe." The story continues with Aunt Mary buying more and more unlikely animals and rhyming clothing items. The animals are delightfully depicted in their attire. A goat gets a coat, a rat gets a hat, and pigs get wigs. There's an uproar when everyone sits down to dinner because the animals want other items. The goat wanted a boat not a coat, and the rat wanted a mat not a hat. "But luckily... very luckily... the llamas loved their pajamas." Bring back this book! It's a treasure.

The year 2000 was particularly nice for me, in that Elly Govor, my Russian friend whom I had helped with English, had her second book launched. It was the best book launch I'd ever attended, and it made everybody a bit misty-eyed. The book is "My Dark Brother", and it's the story of the Illin family who migrated from Russia to Queensland, Australia, and marrying into the aboriginal community. What made the launch so very appealing was that some of the present Illins had come to Canberra for the occasion, and met, indeed, some of their relatives they had not seen. Elly's book had for the first time brought the history of the family to their notice. And Elly had really stumbled on the material whilst researching her first book, "Australia in the Russian Mirror". I had a long conversation with Glenda Illin, great-granddaughter of Nikolai. Glenda took a "package" from the Australian Government department where she worked and is thinking of moving to Canberra, Australia's capital. Written like a novel, My Dark Brother is a great read. UNSW Press. All history should be like that. Elly was kind enough to mention me ini the acknowlegments.

This book is unlike anything I've read. It is a series of small extracts from many sources. Giving often very personal insights into the lives of colonial woman, there loves, losses and the beginnings of there families in the new place of New Zealand which at the time was vastly under developed. Often presented in letters you may as I did find yourself ingrossed in the lives of these strong woman.

One might have reservations about his politics and the trajectory of his carriage of public office, but it is impossible to deny the impact David Lange and his fourth Labour government had on New Zealand society, nor his eloquence as a public speaker and raconteur. When Lange died of complications from renal failure last year New Zealand lost a unique voice and left no obvious successor.

This short autobiographical memoir - dictated in his last days, as his eyesight gave out and he could no longer read or write, is a wonderful book. Lange's prose is wonderful in the early stages - benefitting, I think, from the manner in which he delivered the manuscript (you can almost hear it as an ex tempore public address) - and there is something sombre and moving about the way, as the chapters progress, the fluidity dries up, a function of Lange's failing health and ebbing energy. David Lange died two days after the final proofs rolled from the presses.

Not only beautifully crafted, but historically interesting too: clearly (and unashamedly) coloured by Lange's own perspective, it is a useful prism for viewing the directions in which Lange pulled his administration, which at the time defied easy explanation. Lange is candid about the deterioration of his relationship with co-architect Roger Douglas, and magnanimous enough to recognise that their long-lasting rancour was due as much to his own intemperate personality as Douglas' uncompromising vision.

I dare say that Douglas' memoir of the same period, should he write one (and I hope he does) will provide a somewhat different and equally valuable picture of events.

Ultimately the Lange administration will be seen in the wider geo-political context of the 1980s perhaps as something that was going to happen at some point anyway, but when one looks at the vibrant, dynamic and diverse culture, economy and polity that New Zealand enjoys today, and compare it with the staid and stultifying one which Lange took on in 1984, one can only tip one's hat to the man who actually did start that process rolling and acknowledge this very personal record of the events.

In 1984 Lange's soon-to-be predecessor, the late unlamented Rob Muldoon, left a sarcastic epitaph, reflexively, in the course of being pasted in a televised political debate: when stumped for anything to else say at all, barked bitterly: "I Love You, Mister Lange".

A few years on, with plenty of hindsight and more wounds healed by time, this might yet - without Muldoon's ironic veneer - grow to be the received wisdom about David Russell Lange's contribution to New Zealand's political history.

Olly Buxton