Interest in one of our greatest artists, Colin McCahon, as well as his now king’s ransom-priced work, seems insatiable even 37 years after his death. Dear Colin, Dear Ron by Peter Simpson (Te Papa Press) chronicles the correspondence, and friendship, of McCahon and his librarian-philosopher mate Ron O’Reilly. The 380 letters written over 37 years, and the 64 images discussed therein, were edited and annotated by McCahon expert Peter Simpson, who also provides introductions to each section. The letters are a literary pick-and-mix: canvassing ideas, philosophy and spirituality; insights into McCahon’s work, artistic practice and exhibitions; the local art scene; and observations such as those comparing our landscape with listening to Bach. The book, including thoughtful essays from McCahon’s grandson and O’Reilly’s son, will be catnip to enthusiasts.
What would you do if you were swallowed by a whale? Jonah came out okay, but will Jay Gardiner? In Whalefall (Zaffre), bestselling author Daniel Kraus imagines diver Jay being gulped down by a sperm whale, after being caught in the tentacles of a squid. Caught in the first of the whale’s four stomach chambers, he has one hour before his oxygen runs out. How can he escape?
Moving to a land far away from your home and family in the 19th century took courage and grit. Even more so for women. In Nailed Boots and Crinoline Gowns (Fraser Books), Robert Peden, author of the well-received Making Sheep Country, turns to the diaries and letters of rural Pākehā women in the Victorian era to flesh out their absence or simplistic depiction from most pioneer histories. Given isolation and times of hardship, Kiwi women developed self-reliance – or were broken by it, Peden writes. However, some found their new life – often also working closely alongside their husbands outside the domestic realm – rewarding.
