Dropbear by Evelyn Araluen
“I will meet you at edges of a body shaped like loss
and trace the outline of your absence with smoke.”
~ Guarded Birds
Dropbear (2021), the debut collection of poetry, essay and memoir from Evelyn Araluen, is a sparkling clear and powerful negotiation of language and identity. Using a backdrop of Australiana kitsch and mythology, Araluen picks apart colonist narratives and the damaging impact they have had, and continue to have, on the culture, history and language of First Nations people.
I had the pleasure of seeing Araluen in conversation with Tony Birch at Sydney Writer’s Festival, discussing Dropbear, and it was a wonderful way to learn more about the stories behind her work and piece together the much larger picture that the collection begins to paint. Araluen’s energy filled the room and it’s the same energy, passion and eloquence that she imbues in her written word. She is careful and concise, though often delivers a bite with some piercing lines. “Acknowledgement of Cuntery” delivers this mix perfectly:
I would like all this acknowledged
And to remind everyone
That we are meeting on Land Stolen
and remind everyone how sad it is
you all died
To remind everyone
that you’re all dead
or stolen
or silent
How sad it is
Araluen plays with an impressive variety of form and structure: from more standardised to experimental poetry, to vignettes of memoir and essay. Though slim, the collection is divided into three parts - “Gather,” “Spectre” and “Debris” - with each one offering incisive depth amongst the limited number of pages.
Some of the poems are written in all capitals which adds to the fervour of her words. I agreed with Tony Birch when he said he could imagine some of the verses in these poems being shouted loudly and the sense of urgency it gave them to be heard, as in “With Hidden Noise:”
“I’VE GOT PLENTY AND SO MUCH ROCKET A DEAL A JAR IN A HEART // THE NICEST NOTHING YOU’LL NEVER OWN // A BODY ECSTATIC AND THE GUN THEY BREAK IT WITH // THE SONG I STRIPPED FROM THE STREETSIDE HOWL // BEHOLD THE UTILITY OF AN IDEA YOU CAN’T LOOK IN THE EYE //”
Araluen’s words are a reminder that memory and trauma can be all-consuming and remain constants in a landscape, culture and identity that is still under fire and in pain. Her opening poem “Learning Bundjalung on Tharawal” speaks to this pain softly through the eradication of First Nations languages:
“It is hard to unlearn a language:
to unspeak the empire
to teach my voice to rise and fall like landscape”
Araluen offers us sweet reminders that through the pain and grief, what she is really fighting for is love - for family and place - and it’s her words about her family and the depth of love, respect and gratitude that vibrates through these poems I connected with the most. “See You Tonight” is a stand-out for me from the collection:
“If all we get from history is each other,
isn’t that plenty? I hope this living
is long enough for me to bathe your children, to
brush their hair. I’m saving them that book of
bush songs, those gumnut onesies. Cicadas wail
to the moon watching us above silhouettes.
Didn’t she ever tell you that on? It’s all good.
I will, I will, I will.”
Reading the ‘Notes’ for the collection was eye-opening and mic-drop worthy, as Araluen explains how she has taken apart iconic literary tropes about Australia and reimagined them through her own work to create a more inclusive national literature that acknowledges First Nations experiences and Australia’s colonial history:
“Any responses to this intertextuality, and the tone in which it is presented, should be read with the understanding that the material and political reality of the colonial past Indigenous peoples inherit is also a literary one. Our resistance, therefore, must also be literary.”
This is a spectacular debut collection that, for me, will require many more readings before I feel I can truly appreciate the full breadth of everything Araluen is offering up to us with her words. They are readings I am greatly looking forward to.
Elaine Mead is a freelance writer and book reviewer, currently residing in Hobart, Tasmania. She is passionate about the ways we can use literature to learn from our experiences to become more authentic versions of ourselves and obsessed with showing you photos of her Dachshund puppy. You can find her online at www.wordswithelaine.com.
