We speak with Dr Peter Chen about the motivations behind his new title, Animal Welfare in Australia: Politics and Policy, the treatment of pets versus non-companion animals, the societal "meme" of meat-eating, as well as the recent ban on greyhound racing and its subsequent un-banning.
It’s always a thrill to receive a new book from the printer, and we’re particularly excited about this new release, the latest in our Animal Publics series. In Fighting nature: travelling menageries, animal acts and war shows, Peta Tait reveals the captivating and sometimes disturbing history of animal performances in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.
Travelling menageries became widespread in Europe, Britain and the USA during the nineteenth century. Some acts featured elaborate military re-enactments, real and simulated violence, and nationalistic displays of pomp and ceremony. They also had a knack for attracting controversy. Female lion tamers, and acts that involved a tamer putting his or her head into a lion’s mouth, proved particularly scandalous, especially in the colonies in Australia, New Zealand and southern Africa. In this edited extract, Peta Tait describes how feeding displays played a central part in these performances, and how spectators responded to them with a mixture of fascination and disgust.
Inspired by Gardens of History and Imagination, we at SUP decided to compare notes about our gardening adventures. We'd love to hear your stories, too (head over to our Facebook page to share your garden-making pictures, and for a chance to win a copy of the book!). Even within the SUP team we discovered a surprising diversity of gardens, from coastal balconies to bushland plots. Here's a little more about how our gardens grow ...
What was the inspiration behind your chapter in the Gardens of History and Imagination?
My growing fondness for, and fascination with, harbourside gardens inspired my chapter, ‘Riverine Gardens of Sydney Waterways’. These properties did not simply look out at the water; they deliberately incorporated their harbour views into their landscapes, and were themselves designed to be seen from the water.
“Dig for victory” – and so, like many others in my family I did. Lawn was sacrificed to rows of runner beans, carrots and lettuces. Behind them all was the mess that ducks, and later hens, produced. We kept the roses for the hips and grew edible flowers like nasturtiums as well as mint, parsley and thyme. But it was all very unstable – no certainty that one would still be there to reap what one had sown as even civilians were directed hither and yon. What fascinated the child that I was, was how things grew. You took a boring-looking, blackish pip and put it in the ground. You watered it and waited and after a time the earth above it was broken by a greenish something and if you sheltered this from the birds and the squirrels it turned into a plant – and one lump grew into a bean plant and another into a carrot. I have never lost this sense of wonder even though I am amongst the world’s worst gardeners – give me a flourishing plant and it is likely to die in my hands. As I grew, I came to wonder where all these different seeds came from and how they were brought together, how long people had nurtured them and where they had found them.