What I confirmed this week...

        I tried to read a novel (written in the late '60s I suspect), published in the early '70s, by a well known South Australian woman from the local world of both Literature and Art. A big name at the time.

        As I understand it, it was well received at the time, but I have to say that I dumped it after three pages, finding it totally self-indulgent and over-written in which very little happens out in the tangible world. I came away with a clear re-affirmation that there are "female" novels, where most of the action is on the "inside", and there are "male" novels, where most of the action is on the "outside".

        Okay, sounds naive and trite, but it's pretty close to the (my) truth. And there's heaps of novels that fall in between the two, have a good healthy balance of inner thoughts and feelings and relationships, and with things actually happening out in the physical world. Other than sex.

        That's all, just a passing observation. Stirring up.

            Cheers...

                    Trev

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