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A review by incrediblemelk
The Harp in the South by Ruth Park
4.0
To be honest I read this years ago and so its details escape me, but I remember being struck by the vividness of its portrayal of inner-city poverty. In its portrayal of old-fashioned Australian working-class life and the role of women in particular, I file it along with Brides of Christ and [b:Come in Spinner|3190170|Come in Spinner|Dymphna Cusack|http://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1267846184s/3190170.jpg|3223146].
I read it as an example of a bygone form of community in which people of different races and circumstances (disabled, addicted, pregnant, aspirant, etc) were forced to coexist and be confronted by one another. Another example is the Depression-era young adult novels [b:Colour In the Creek|10448161|Colour In the Creek|Margaret Paice|http://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1297694742s/10448161.jpg|15352911] and [b:Shadow Of Wings|7390885|Shadow Of Wings|Margaret Paice|http://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1297575016s/7390885.jpg|9259547] by [a:Margaret Paice|1431429|Margaret Paice|http://www.goodreads.com/assets/nophoto/nophoto-F-50x66-2a9d702c2a0f483c9f7dd119cc28a9a7.jpg], which I read as a kid, and which taught me about a particularly Australian stoicism and laconic community-building in the face of poverty.
I live in an atomised world now where the communities we make are created by shared belief systems and tastes, and sheltered by the privilege of class and cultural capital. I've noticed people can be very uncomfortable when confronted with difference – of opinion, of belief, of circumstance – because we're able to retreat from it. The Harp in the South hardly sentimentalises its world – there's plentiful violence and trauma – but it seems to me to illustrate a kind of Australian community that may no longer exist.
The other thing is that I didn't realise that 'Roie' was short for 'Rowena' (which gives you a hint of how you're meant to pronounce the name). So in my head I pronounced it closer to 'Roy'. I don't know why I am confessing my ignorance here, but there you go.
I read it as an example of a bygone form of community in which people of different races and circumstances (disabled, addicted, pregnant, aspirant, etc) were forced to coexist and be confronted by one another. Another example is the Depression-era young adult novels [b:Colour In the Creek|10448161|Colour In the Creek|Margaret Paice|http://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1297694742s/10448161.jpg|15352911] and [b:Shadow Of Wings|7390885|Shadow Of Wings|Margaret Paice|http://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1297575016s/7390885.jpg|9259547] by [a:Margaret Paice|1431429|Margaret Paice|http://www.goodreads.com/assets/nophoto/nophoto-F-50x66-2a9d702c2a0f483c9f7dd119cc28a9a7.jpg], which I read as a kid, and which taught me about a particularly Australian stoicism and laconic community-building in the face of poverty.
I live in an atomised world now where the communities we make are created by shared belief systems and tastes, and sheltered by the privilege of class and cultural capital. I've noticed people can be very uncomfortable when confronted with difference – of opinion, of belief, of circumstance – because we're able to retreat from it. The Harp in the South hardly sentimentalises its world – there's plentiful violence and trauma – but it seems to me to illustrate a kind of Australian community that may no longer exist.
The other thing is that I didn't realise that 'Roie' was short for 'Rowena' (which gives you a hint of how you're meant to pronounce the name). So in my head I pronounced it closer to 'Roy'. I don't know why I am confessing my ignorance here, but there you go.