Many nations adventured for the discovery of Australia, but the British peoples have alone possessed her. Sir Keith Hancock, Australia
Woman is never anything more than the scene of more or less rival exchange between two men, even when they are competing for the possession of mother-earth. Luce Irigaray, 'This Sex which is not One'
This is a paper about landscape. But the territory I will explore is at once physical and linguistic, sexual and social, literal and figural. A historical question I want to address is: how is it that the land known as Terra Australis Incognito came to be named, tamed and, in Hancock's (1930) words, possessed by British interests - initially on behalf of Empire and eventually on behalf of Australian native sons? On another level the question becomes one about identity. How has man as subject confronted this land as alien other and attempted to define himself through his attempts to understand the land; to come to terms with his experience of its space and boundaries; to assimilate its strangeness into himself and his symbolic order? These are the processes through which people who came to live on the land and fill in what Hancock called its Vast, open spaces' have constructed their images of identity as Australians.
On another level the question becomes one of semiotics. How is it that processes of self-representation and identification with the land came to be registered in discourse, in language, with reference to a speaking subject, a self, which is male, and with reference to an object of discourse, an other (in this case the land) which is female? Thus, in Hancock's text, Australia is imagined, through metaphor, as the body of a woman. It is this 'woman,' that is woman-as-sign within Western political discourse, to whom Luce Irigaray (1981) refers when she comments that woman is never anything more than the scene of a rival exchange between men (105).
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I chose to introduce the paper with reference to the opening lines of Keith Hancock's 1930 history because social and political commentators site this text as seminal in the construction of an Australian national identity. Until the 1930's the concept of a national character, marked by its distinct difference from England, had little currency in the texts which took Australia as their theme. But with the publication of Hancock's Australia, the idea took shape and gained a force of academic authority, the traces of which survive to this day. The text encodes a nationalist history, but it is primarily a history of land settlement. Hancock calls it a 'history of progressive mastery.' The idea of the land, signified as woman, as a body to be shaped, conquered and civilized by man, is a central preoccupation of the text. The Australian identity which emerges is the matey, egalitarian native son of the democratic nationalist tradition.
As R.W. Connell (1968) pointed out, 'the themes developed or crystalized by Hancock have been taken over by his successors with only minor modifications ... The result has been a homogeneous tradition of social comment and criticism' (15). That homogeneous tradition is coming to an end. It is no longer possible to (mis)read history in terms of colonial conquest and Western appropriation of a foreign land and its indigenous peoples. Yet the structuring ideas embedded in Hancock's nationalist history and the narratives on Australia which preceded it have not been fully explored. There is more to be said, and, in particular, more to be said, both literally and figurally, about women.
When feminist historian, Anne Summers (1975), in Damned Whores and God's Police, challenged the absence of women from the definitive texts which constitute an Australian tradition, she specifically sited Hancock's Australia and Connell's critique. She wrote, 'A ... flaw of Hancock's work, one which eluded Connell and the Hancockians he selects, was that Hancock used the terms 'Australian' and 'men' synonymously: the Australia he described was a wholly male universe depicted from a man's point of view' (58).
Summers took up the position as a socialist feminist writer. She engaged in a social, political and systemic analysis of male power and female colonization. She took the argument as far as she could with the tools of analysis available to her at the time. Her critique, however, remained incapsulated within a humanistic philosophic tradition which upholds the autonomous identity of
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the male or female historical subject. She could not register then, but we can now, that what both her text and that of Hancock signify, through language, that 'Manzone Country,' the title of her chapter and name she gives to Australia as the object of analysis, is woman.
In fact, no commentators on the Australian Tradition, to my knowledge, have registered or analyzed the significance of the enunciation of the land-as-woman. Yet, if one re-reads the texts on Australia which constitute an historical tradition, from Dam-pier's A New Voyage Around the World (1697) to Manning Clark's recent five volume history, what becomes apparent is that although references to actual women as historical agents are rare, references to the idea of woman, embedded in linguistic constructions of landscape, are everywhere.
For centuries, Australia existed as an empty space on the map of the world, as body of desire. Man, as the agent of history, confronted raw nature, as a vast and empty other, and named it his Australia Felix. The land, then, has taken on the attributes of masculine desire. This desire acts as a generative force in the narratives of exploration and settlement. We can examine the discourse on Australia as an attempt to understand the land and claim it for the self. As Todorov (1984) explains in his recent study The Conquest of America:
Language exists only by means of the other, not only because one always addresses someone but also insofar as it permits evoking the absent third person. But the very existence of this other is measured by the space the symbolic system reserves for him [or we need to add, 'her,' or 'it,' on both literal and figural levels]. ...[Any investigation of alterity is necessarily semiotic, and reciprocally, semiotics cannot be conceived outside the relation to the other.] (157)
The land signified as absence can be named as other in two senses - as an abstraction, a hypothetical place/space, a locus of desire (as in Marcus Clarke's (1987) reference to Australia as a 'fantastic land of monstrosities') (v) or as the not-me, that which is opposite (as in Vance Palmer's (1966) identification of the Australia the pioneers confronted as 'a lean, unlovely mother ... an enemy to be fought.') (47). As other, the land is either similar to me and functions as an object to be assimilated into my symbolic order so that it becomes identified with the self (as in Francis Adam's (in Palmer, 1966) writings 'The bush is the heart of the country, the real Australian Australia') (47), or different from me, but not
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Schaffer
beyond the realm of my understanding (as in descriptions of the convict settlement as a 'howling Hell on earth') (White, 1981:16). In either case the land is named through linguistic processes of inclusion and exclusion. That is, it exists either within my ken and is linked to me on a historical, cultural or moral plane: or it is outside my ken and perceived as alien, foreign, strange. The naming takes place within a symbolic order of sameness. The play of sameness and difference, through which the land as other comes to be identified with the self, is registered in language (see Todorov, 1984).
The Frames
Radical French theory, as developed in the writings of Julia Kristeva, (1980) posits a language theory predicated on an unstable subject, a subject-in-process, constituted by the signifying practices of language. Kristeva specifically attends to the relation between language and the maternal body. For Kristeva, following Lacan, the child's entrance into culture, language, and the law-of-the-father, is effected through a repression of the pre-oedipal mother. During the mirror phase a child identifies with the specular image of a unitary self - with exteriority, oneness, and self-presence. Language privileges exteriority. It establishes the illusion of a unitary subject by laws, rules, and procedures which harness the threat of a chaotic, fragmenting body. Kristeva explains that language as symbolic function constitutes itself at the cost of repressing instinctual drive and continuous relation to the mother' (136). However, this mastery over the other, effected through discourse, is never complete. The symbolic is constantly undermined by what she calls the semiotic mode. Language is not one system, one law or meaning, but a system of signs 'that admits both structure and interplay' within the gap between sign-ifier and signified (128).
For Kristeva, the body of the mother is what is sacrificed to the paternal function in order for the subject and culture to achieve a social and symbolic cohesion. Within the symbolic order of the name-of-the-father, social coherence is made possible through language where 'every body is made homologous to a male speaking body' (242). The mother, - named, tamed and subdued -becomes the phallic mother, the mother of the subject's imaginary (191). The subject's relation to the phallic mother, (the third, absent other, or locus of desire) within the signifying practices of language, constitutes identity.
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Kristeva discusses the need to analyze poetic language in a way that recognizes, in the gap between signifier and signified, the place of the (absent) mother. She argues 'in favour of an analytic theory of signifying systems and practices that would search within the signifying phenomenon for the crises or the unsettling process of meaning and subject rather than for the coherence or identity of either one or a multiplicity of structures' (125) (emphases in original). More specifically to our point, Kristeva suggests that the relationship of the subject to the pre-symbolic and trans-symbolic mother 'is probably one of the most important factors producing interplay within the structure of meaning as well as a questioning process of subject and history' (137).
The Naming of the Land-as-Woman
With regard to the Australian tradition, the subject in discourse is constituted by its relation to the land as (m)other. The desire for the place of the mother is co-extensive with the desire for the land. To challenge the illusion of unity of the subject, following Kristeva's practice, we can interrogate the processes of naming: to ask not what woman is, but how she has been constructed in metaphors of landscape as man's opposite and displaced through the operations of metaphor and metonomy. In so doing, it is possible to trace a rich and diverse network of contradictory meanings which the illusion of unity disguises. 'A writer,' says Roland Barthes (1975), 'is one who plays with his mother's body ...: in order to glorify it, to embellish it, or in order to dismember it to take it to the limit of what can be known about the body' (34).
These 'playful' processes have been at work in the naming of Australia as a feminine (if not always specifically maternal) body. The writer's mode of imagining the landscape can be seen as determined by imaginary constructions of the feminine within the symbolic order. Further, these constructions are also determined by ideological constraints informing the writer's relation to power-knowledge. As Michel Foucault (1981) reminds us, a central question to be asked when analyzing discursive formations is: who speaks, for whom and by what authority? Extending Kristeva's analysis so as to include considerations about the writer's relation to power, he writes:
discourses are not once and for all subservient to power or raised up against it, any more than silences are. We must make allowance for the complex and unstable process whereby discourse can be both an instrument and an effect
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of power ... Discourse transmits and produces power; it reinforces it, but also undermines and exposes it, renders it fragile and makes it possible to thwart it. (100-101)
The discourse on the Australian tradition not only attempts to establish a national identity through the representation of man to the land but also to foreclose and maintain the interests of dominant social, religious, and political institutions. The land, then, is not only a feminine body through which man attains a (precarious) identity but also a shifting site of battles - moral, political, religious, economic - invested and traversed by the relations of power/knowledge. Writers of authoritative texts, in their attempts to master knowledge, construct the feminine, particularly in relation to the land, as an object and instrument of power. To illustrate this it is necessary to examine the discursive practices; to examine how the construction of femininity functions textually in the various articulations of the nature of the Australian character, especially in relation to man's battle with the land.
The Dispersement of 'Woman' and the Idea of Australia
The first British explorer to visit the land known as Terra Australis Incognito was William Dampier. In 1697, ten years after the publication of Locke's Second Treatise on Government, Dampier (in Gibson, 1984) provided the British peoples with the first detailed descriptions of the land and its inhabitants. The land of his experience was described negatively, in terms of lack. He related that it held no gold or spices, houses, water or crops, only pestering flies and miserable savages. But he imagined for the reader a land of more promising aspect:
I could not but hope to meet with some fruitful lands, Continents or Islands, or both, productive of any of the rich Fruits, Drugs, or Spices ... that are in other parts of the Torrid Zone, under equal Parallels of Latitude; at least a Soil and Air capable of such, upon transplanting them hither, and Cultivation. (10)
This conception of the use-value of the land is derived from Lock'e theory of private property, which assumes the right of ownership to land, based on human enterprise. In his Second Treatise on Government Locke (1969) wrote:
And hence subduing or cultivating the Earth, and having Dominion, we see are joyned together. The one gave Title to
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the other. So that God, by commanding to subdue, gave Authority so far to appropriate. And the Condition of Humane Life, which requires Labour and materials to work on, necessarily introduces private possessions (emphases in original). (310)
The assumption that the masculine (man, Empire, Civilization) has an unquestioned God-given right to subdue or cultivate the feminine (woman, Earth, Nature) and appropriate the feminine to masculine domination is a constant construct of Western discourse. As an ideological construct, following Foucault, it underlies British imperialist interests and shapes the Australian tradition. As a psychoanalytic construct, following Kristeva, it makes possible the inscription of the subject into culture.
The land evokes man's pleasure when seen as a resource for exploitation and appropriation; otherwise, it remains a 'waste' land. As Lenore Coltheart (1981) demonstrates in her thesis on the settlement of the Northern Territory, 'the consummation' of 'waste' lands was the mission of the Victorian age in Australia, a duty recognized as divinely ordained' (xv). This can be illustrated in the words of John Lort Stokes, (1846) Commander of the Beagle during its 1837-43 voyage of exploration. He wrote, echoing Lock's sentiments, of
... the feeling of pride engendered by the thought that we are in any way instrumental to the extension of man's influence over the world which has been given him to subdue. (in Coltheart:47)
Stokes looked to the Northern coast of Australia and imagined:
a noble city ... sprung as though by magic from the ground, which will serve both as a monument of English enterprise, and as a beacon from whence the light of Christian civilization shall spread through the dark and gloomy recesses of ignorance and guilt ... Providence has entrusted to England a new Empire in the Southern seas. (in Coltheart:43)
There are several impulses at work in this discursive moment. In the semiotic play of sameness and difference detailed here, there is a double movement - a movement between the signifiers of Empire and Christianity. The noble city imagined as a 'monument of British enterprise' marks Australia as a place of sameness with the self and the demands of Empire. The noble city imagined as a 'beacon from whence the light of Christian civiliza-
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tion shall spread through the dark and gloomy recesses of ignorance and guilt' registers the uncivilized land as an alien body of barbaric difference to be rescued from an unregenerate state of Nature.
The passage recalls the plight of an earlier voyager, Odysseus, when confronted by the Skylla and Charybdis in his attempt to navigate the straits on his return journey. The Skylla, or mountain cliffs, like Stokes' 'monument of English enterprise,' represent the invincible authority of the Father's law. The Charybdis, or dark whirling maelstrom, like Stokes' 'dark and gloomy recesses of ignorance and guilt,' represents the archaic body of threat, the pre-Oedipal maternal realm which precedes the Father's discourse. Odysseus sails to safety by clinging close to the rock of the Father's law. Stokes conquers the threat of the maternal realm by asserting a faith in man's mastery of the land through the processes of Christian colonization. The sacred trust of Providence (the law of the father) is the 'magic' which transforms a threatening landscape into land of social cohesion.
Stokes called the continent the 'Plains of Promise.' But the notion of threat, sounded with reference to the 'dark and gloomy recesses' represents an unsettling element in the text. The fear that the land might come to absorb its inhabitants is a common feature within the discourse on the Australian tradition, one most recently recalled in the film Picnic at Hanging Rock. In the literature of exploration the threat of absorption can be registered as operating on a sub-textual level in the discourse concerning the expedition and disappearance of Charles Leichhardt. Leichhardt began his journey North to the Gulf of Carpentaria in October, 1844. When he did not return for fourteen months, he was presumed dead, absorbed by the alien bush. His reappearance evoked the mythic motif of Jonah and the whale: a man swallowed by the vast interior and then miraculously rescued. The newspapers reported his return as a 'return from the dead.' Further the Sydney Morning Herald described the interior landscape which Leichhardt had traversed in excessive terms which subdued any suggestion that the land might have the power to absorb its inhabitants. The paper reported that his journey had:
established the broad fact that our continent possesses an Australia Felix to the north as well as to the south ... a land of mingled sublimity and beauty; a land of majestic rivers and graceful streams ... a land ... of wheat and barley, and vines and fig-trees, and pomegranates; a land of olive-oil, and honey;
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a land wherein thou shall eat bread without scarceness; a land where stones are iron, and out of whose hills thou mayest dig brass. (in Coltheart:53)
It would not be the last time the newspaper resorted to journalistic excess. But it is excess to a purpose. In this description we note both ideological and psychoanalytical semiotic impulses. The references to wheat and barley, and later to brass and iron suggest that the Plains of Promise can be put specifically to agricultural and industrial use. But the excessiveness which swells at the centre of this description: 'a land of wheat and barley, and vines and fig-trees, and pomegranates; a land of olive oil, and honey' evokes the image of both a biblical promised land and a nurturing maternal body - a pliant, waiting, passive Mother Earth, needing only the consummation of an eager European presence. The threat that the dark continent might absorb its pioneers into its vast, open and empty centre had been quelled. Jonah has escaped the whale.
The early aspirations of Empire would be sorely tested in the light of actual settlement experience. Increasingly, through the decades of land exploration and settlement, the imagery of the magical body gave way to the language of threat. When it defied the settler's attempts at mastery it was described as 'hostile,' harsh,' 'obstructive,' 'decitful,' 'cruel,' 'impoverished' and 'raw.' Still, as long as imperialistic assumptions concerning the use of value of the land predominated the discourse, the land was imagined as a desired (rather than feared) feminine other capable of being mastered and subdued. Thus, a pastoral historian in 1911 would report that 'the soil was, as it were, electrified by the touch of colonization' (Collier:95).
We can register the signification of the land as a terrain on which man battled for possession against a powerfully resisting force in William Harcus' 1876 emigration guide. Harcus wrote:
To successfully plant a young Colony ... seems to require special qualities, physical, moral, and intellectual, which are possessed in their highest form by the Anglo-Saxon people. It is a small matter to supplant the Aboriginal inhabitants of a barbarous country and to secure possession of their land ... It is battling with Nature, conquering the soil, holding on against capricious seasons, fighting with the elements and compelling the earth to yield what it never yielded before - a reward for man's toil - that the real triumphs of an old people in a new land are seen. (in Coltheart:71)
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Harcus speaks for Empire. In this discourse the whole of Australia, land and people, are assimilated into the self. His assertions uphold the authority of white, male, Western civilization as a presence which must be established and maintained in the advancing cause of progress and civilization. Imperialistic assumptions of mastery over the barbaric natives and capricious Nature take the forms of moral, economic, physical, rational and sexual possession. The terms of possession are military - battling, conquering, holding on, fighting, and finally, finding triumph. Victory is assured. Nature will 'yield what it never yielded before,' if not crops in abundance, then enhanced power to a flagging British Crown. Nature here is imagined as a phallic Mother Nature, who is desired not for herself but for the power she symbolizes.
In the colonial period of Australia's history, the dominant groups whose interests would shape the image of Australia resided in Britain. In the late Nineteenth Century, however, the colony took on a cultural and political identity as a new society. The discourses which speak from a nationalist Australian tradition obscure Australia's ties with an imperialistic past. Hancock's historical study, Australia, encodes these new nationalistic attitudes in the literature which identifies with the land on behalf of Australian nationalism and not British Empire. The Nationalist texts contain an ambivalence between the speaker's identification with either Britain or Australia and towards the land itself as an object either loved or loathed. These differences can be registered with reference to a theme which emerges often in the literature -the theme of the two mistresses.
In 1880 a popular emigration guide sounded the now familiar call of Empire - to master and subdue the land. 'As the soil of old countries becomes impoverished and needs rest and recuperation, it becomes imperative that fresh virgin ground must be found to meet the ever increasing wants of the stockholder and husbandman' (in Coltheart:71). In this description, England is named as the old and impoverished mother who will be replaced by the pliant young virgin. The master, stockholder or husbandman, is guaranteed rights of ownership and possession through land use on behalf of Britain. By the 1930's, the terms of reference have changed. Hancock (1930), reflecting on the ambivalence inherent in the two mistresses theme, writes: 'A country is a jealous mistress and patriotism is commonly an exclusive passion; but it is not impossible for Australians, nourished by a glorious literature and haunted by old memories, to be in love with two soils' (51). The historian of democratic nationalism admits to a dissonance
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between the desire for Australian nationalism, imagined as a jealous mistress, and a residue of imperialist loyalties to the motherland, located in its literature and old memories. His political loyalties are with Australia, but he reserves a space for English cultural traditions - 'Culture' being a desirable attribute of the parental heritage which did not necessarily follow in the wake of progressive mastery of the land.
What occurred, historically, between the writing of these two texts was Australian Federation. Politically, the old British authority was supplanted by a new order. But the idea of the land as a desired (even if illicit) object, answerable to male needs, remained constant. The difference is that the master was no longer English, but Australian. Hancock represents the interests of the new native sons vying with the old imperial father for authority over the land.
The nature of both the subject (man) and object (the land) is radically different depending on whether one speaks for Empire, or for Australian nationalism. In the texts quoted, the literature of Empire assumes man's victory over the land as the logical consequence of the White Man's burden. But the native son, who would conquer the land on behalf of more limited national needs, has diminished status. And the land, in the light of actual experience, defies his attempts at mastery. It offers a variety of unexpected responses to male demands and desires, including drought and bushfires; floods and poisonous snakes. Victory is never assured; his status remains in question. His desire for the land is represented as an ambivalent loyalty to two soils - old mother and new mistress. The Australian tradition, in Hancock's text, represents a coming to terms with man's limited potential on the land. But the limitations will be blamed on the 'fickle' land-as-woman, the land which denies full possession and, thus, identity.
Manning Clark's (1981) five volume History of Australia repeats the two mistress theme but from a more dissident political perspective. In a chapter entitled 'The Earth Abideth Forever,' Clark treats the centenary celebrations for the anniversary of the founding of New South Wales in terms of human defeat. He relates that British civilization, which promised the 'pursuit of material well-being and the freedom of the individual' enslaved the Australian colony to 'the bitch goddess of success and the goddess of respectability' (Vol. V:l). But the earth, lying in wait beneath a Western culture's materialistic desire, prepared its revenge. 1888
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was a year of severe drought. The drought, says Clark, was 'the revenge of an ancient, barbaric continent' upon the men who 'wantonly robbed it of its wealth' (Vol. IV:406). Clark's history is a challenge to Liberal social theory and its attendant faith in progress. Clark defies the liberal consensus of the White man's march to progress over the Western and non-Western world. He attempts to push against the boundaries of Western consciousness with the evocation of the 'ancient, barbaric' land. In Clark's history, the White Man is the intruder upon the natural environment, which he depicts as an enduring maternal presence. But he builds his argument on past Western, humanistic traditions. So, he leaves the white man with his two mistresses: the bitch goddess of success and the goddess of respectability. The bitch goddess of success was brought to life a century earlier by William James as a detested symbol of American materialism; the goddess of respectability retains the British mantle of Christian morality and mark of Western culture. Although given bulk and form over three generations of historical speculation, they are not unrelated to Hancock's mistresses, the British past and Australian present, imagined as divided loyalty between the two soils. Clark brings the mistresses to life in the dress of Western capitalism where they mirror man's diminished status. He reverences the ancient soil as an emblem of the enduring 'natural' world. But there is no 'natural' world. He returns to a romantic evocation of the eternal feminine, employed in this instance as an instrument of moral power in the patriarchal universe of the sinned against and sinning. Man abandons his mistresses when they appear to have failed him and longs to return to the imagined security of the pre-Oedipal womb in retreat from an unresolved battle with the father. The loss of a vision of potency for Western man accompanies a longing for the archaic Earth Mother, not in conquest but submission. We are reminded, once again, of Luce Irigaray's remark: 'woman' remains the scene of a more or less rival exchange between men, even when they are competing for the possession of mother-earth.
The naming of colonial Australia and definitions of national identity detailed here, from texts of early exploration Nineteenth Century settlement experience and Twentieth Century historical formulations, offer a variety of ideological perspectives and attitudes towards Australian nationalism. Cultural production is susceptible to ideological transformation. Yet, despite differences among speakers, there are common linguistic elements in these discourses on Australia. All attempt to establish a space for the subject as a stable masculine construct through the linguistic representation of self-and-other dichotomies. Analysis of the dis-
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cursive representation of the land as the feminine other against which man measures his identity demonstrates the ways in which the idea of woman-as-sign functions to reserve the space of the stable subject, the homologous male speaking voice which constitutes Australian culture.
Questions concerning the authority of the self are resolved through the dispersion of woman into the signifying place of the other. 'Woman' as an idea embedded in the textuality of Western discourse is posited as the object and foundation of representation, the source and origin of desire, the object and sign of culture. But it is a masculine culture, named by a masculine subject, by reference to a feminine land-as-other.
What remains to be explored are the effects of discursive representation of the feminine on the construction of women as actual historical subjects. The linguistic signification of woman in the metaphors of landscape and national identity provide some insight as to the ways the feminine takes on an Austrtalian specificity within a masculine symbolic order. As we register the contradictions, the crises in meaning, we begin to deconstruct assumptions concerning the self as a stable subject and, at the same time, register a new, yet to be explored space for women and men beyond the boundaries of the Australian tradition.
Kay Schaffer teaches at the South Australian College of Advanced Education.
Notes
Barthes, R., (1975) The Pleasure of the Text, (trans.) Richard Miller, (New York: Hill and Wang).
Clark, C.M., (1981) A History of Australia, Five volumes. Melbourne: Melbourne University Press.
... , (1987) 'Preface' to Poems of the Late Adam Lindsay Gor
don, London: Samuel Mullen.
Collier, J., (1911) The Pastoral Age in Australia, London: Whit-combe and Tombs.
Coltheart, L., (1981) 'Australian Misere: The Northern Territory in the Nineteenth Century,' PhD thesis, Griffith University, Brisbane, Queensland.
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Connell, R.W., (1968) 'Images of Australia,' Quadrant 52 March-April, 15.
Foucault, M., (1981) The History of Sexuality: Volume One: An Introduction, (trans.) Robert Hurley, Harmondsworth: Penguin.
Gibson, R., (1984) The Diminishing Paradise, Sydney: George Allen and Unwin.
W.K. Hancock, (1930) Australia, London: Benn.
Irigaray, L., (1981) 'This Sex which is not One' (trans. Claudia Reeder) in Elaine Marks and Isabelle de Courtivron (eds.), New French Feminisms, New York: Schocken Books.
Kristeva, J., (1980) 'From One Identity to Another,' in Desire in Language: A Semiotic Approach to Literature and Art, (ed.) Leon S. Roudiez, (trans.) Thomas Gora, Alice Jardine and Leon S. Roudiez, New York: Columbia University Press.
Locke, J., (1969) Second Treatise on Government (London, 1689), Section 35 in Peter Laslett (ed.), John Locke: Two Treatises on Government, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Palmer, V., (1966) The Legend of the Nineties, Melbourne: Melbourne University Press.
Summers, A., (1975) Damned Whores and God's Police, Ring-wood: Penguin.
Todorov, T., (1984) The Conquest of America (trans.) Richard Howard, New York: Harper and Row.
White, R,. (1981) Inventing Australia: Images and Identity 1688-1980, Sydney: George Allen and Unwin.
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