Category: Analysis

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Paul Giles, Professor of English, Institute for Humanities and Social Sciences, ACU, Australian Catholic University

The Land of Sweet Forever consists of eight previously unpublished stories and another eight non-fiction pieces by American author Harper Lee, who died in 2016. The non-fiction essays first appeared in magazines such as McCall’s and Book of the Month Club Newsletter and they are all quite short.

Review: The Land of Sweet Forever – Harper Lee (Hutchinson Heinemann)

Lee’s fame as a writer derives from her novel To Kill a Mockingbird (1960), which sold around 40 million copies and became one of the most widely taught books in United States classrooms during the second half of the 20th century. Its emollient representation of racial tensions in the Deep South chimed nicely with widespread anxieties among traditional white communities arising from civil rights movements of the 1960s.

An earlier draft of Mockingbird, entitled Go Set a Watchman, was published in 2015, shortly before Lee’s death. Again it sold very well, shifting over a million copies in the US during the first week of publication, despite this first version being more ambivalent and less sentimental in tone about enduring racial hostilities.

The eight stories in this new volume, edited by Casey Cep – who is working on an “authorised biography” of Lee – date from the writer’s early years, before Mockingbird. They are set partly in her home town of Maycomb, Alabama, and partly in Manhattan, where Lee lived during the 1950s, working first as a proofreader and then as an airline reservations clerk.

Cep describes the rediscovery of these stories, which were found in Lee’s New York apartment, as “thrilling”. In truth they are mostly slight productions, all written before Lee was 30 and none published in her lifetime. They would probably always have remained in her bottom drawer had it not been for the subsequent success of Mockingbird, but their posthumous rediscovery is valuable because it offers valuable insights into Lee’s artistic development.

There is nostalgia here for the world of childhood, something that later helped to ensure Lee’s massive popularity. The narrator of one story, “The Cat’s Meow” intimates that “no matter how long I lived away from home I would always be from Maycomb, Alabama”.

Though she resists the “deep-water segregationist” atmosphere of her hometown, Lee’s narrative persona in this story continually regresses to the perspectives of childhood: “I suddenly felt ten years old again.” Indeed, the psychological conflict between the safety she nostalgically associates with her early life and a more knowing adult perspective forms the crux of Lee’s work, both in these stories and her later fiction.

Another of these early stories, “A Roomful of Kibble”, offers a sympathetic portrait of the narrator’s friend Sarah at the University of Alabama. Sarah’s alleged transgressions – having a “bottle of beer in her hand” and “an irreverent attitude toward the Dean of Women” – make the tone of this story seem comically dated.

At the end, however, Sarah shuts the door in the face of a neighbour who has accidentally set herself on fire in the kitchen, because they had previously argued about barking dogs. This causes the unfortunate woman to burn “to a crisp in the hall”. This weird juxtaposition of gentility and murderous violence anticipates Lee’s more mature gothic style.

Dark humor

The most compelling aspect of these stories is their dark humour and restrained satire. This arises from the narrator’s sense of distance from domestic pieties. Lee’s narrators are attracted instinctively to the role of onlooker, caught between two worlds, but detached from both. They are neither fully immersed in Manhattan nor entirely at home back in Alabama.

One of the most amusing stories, “This is Show Business?”, features the narrator trying to help out a New York friend who is running errands by driving her car round the block in Manhattan to evade a parking patrolman.

Possessing only an Alabama driving licence and having never driven in New York, she describes the car sardonically as “one of those push-button affairs where if you know what to do, everything is done for you”. The disorientation experienced by the Southern girl is treated in an offhand manner, but her discomfort is palpable.

Yet there is a similar sense of discomfort when the focus switches back to Alabama. The story that gives this collection its title, “The Land of Sweet Forever”, starts with an ironic pastiche of Jane Austen’s famous first sentence to Pride and Prejudice:

It is a truth generally acknowledged by the citizens of Maycomb, Alabama, that a single woman in possession of little else but a good knowledge of English social history must be in want of someone to talk to.

But the story then develops into a typically double-edged description of Maycomb’s Methodist church, with the narrator ghoulishly observing: “There is nothing like a blood-curdling hymn to make one feel at home.” Given this sense of alienation, strategic silence becomes a useful tool in dealing with Bible-bashers and recalcitrant family members. Warding off her overtly racist sister, the narrator of “The Cat’s Meow” says “the first lesson of living at home these days” is “if you don’t agree with what you hear, place your tongue between your teeth and bite hard”.

‘National fantasy’

Penguin Australia, under the Hutchinson Heinemann imprint, is clearly targeting a mass audience for this book, imposing a “strict embargo” until publication day. The publisher is hoping these early stories and incidental pieces will be eagerly seized upon by Lee’s loyal fans, just as Go Set a Watchman was ten years ago.

It is certainly interesting to have these obscure and unpublished works now made available, but in truth this volume more resembles a scholarly edition of a famous author’s juvenilia than the kind of major publishing event that would mark the unearthing of literary buried treasure.

The non-fiction pieces are particularly varied in quality, with some interesting comments by Lee on her friend Truman Capote and on Gregory Peck, who played the role of Atticus Finch in the film of Mockingbird. Lee describes this as “an inspired performance” by Peck. She also writes revealingly about slavery, describing it as “man’s oldest institution”.

A 2006 letter to Oprah Winfrey, which appeared in The Oprah Magazine, includes some barbed remarks about e-books. Lee asks the television impresario if she could “imagine curling up in bed to read a computer” in the way she herself wept for Anna Karenina during her Alabama youth.

But Lee was certainly no systematic critic and to include her recipe from a 1961 edition of The Artists and Writers’ Cookbook seems to be scraping the barrel in every sense. The book is also not helped by the publisher’s choice of “The Land of Sweet Forever” as the running head throughout this volume, a flaw in production that makes it difficult to locate the book’s individual pieces.

Harper Lee will always have an important place in American cultural history because To Kill a Mockingbird touched a vital cultural nerve in the 1960s, just as Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin did a hundred years earlier. Like other immensely popular (and teachable) works such as The Great Gatsby, Lee’s work speaks to what critic Lauren Berlant called a condition of “national fantasy”.

In Berlant’s analysis, readers project their dreams and anxieties onto a particular version of the mythological mystique of the US. This kind of utopian vision manifests itself through material wealth and individual success in Gatsby, or through childhood security and racial harmony in Mockingbird.

Given the power of this idyllic vision, Lee was perhaps wise not to risk sullying it by engaging too actively with the rise and fall of critical fortunes normally associated with a long literary career. The social resonance of several writers in mid-20-century America – J.D. Salinger is the most obvious case – derived largely from their reticence, their unavailability for interviews or public appearances.

The apparently oracular nature of the author’s literary works seemed to be enhanced by the parsimonious scarcity of their output. Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man (1952) promoted the invisibility not only of the novel’s fictional protagonist but also his elusive creator. This was, of course, the very reverse of today’s relentless circuit of authorial self-promotion, boosted as it is by publishing conglomerates eager for market spotlight. In this, as in so many other ways, Lee seems to be an author from a lost era.

Nevertheless, it is useful to gain from these pieces a clearer understanding of the complex historical situation within which Lee was working. It is chastening to recollect that the world Lee is chronicling is as distant in time from us as Herman Melville’s representation of New York in the 1850s was from that of F. Scott Fitzgerald in The Great Gatsby (1925).

Lee’s agent Maurice Crain described the author in 1956 as “a nice little Southern gal from Alabama”. Patronising though this undoubtedly was, it pinpointed an identity that Lee herself never entirely sought to outgrow. Many of Lee’s preoccupations can be recognised in embryonic form in The Land of Sweet Forever.

From the tone of her introduction to this book, it seems possible that Cep’s forthcoming “authorised biography” might possibly be too beholden to Lee’s legend. In due course, though, there might be opportunities for a fuller reassessment of Lee’s prominent position in 20th-century American literature.

I could imagine a critical work that would pay proper attention to her literary interplay between child and adult (perhaps involving queer theory), her perceptive probing of split selves, her capacity to bridge many different audiences and her canny awareness of how intense racial prejudice continued to lurk within ostensibly enlightened white communities in the Deep South.

Given her totemic popularity, Lee appears to be an author ripe for cultural reassessment. To that wider end, Cep’s biographical excavations may well in time prove indispensable.

Paul Giles previously received funding from the Australian Research Council.

– ref. Harper Lee’s unpublished stories are not ‘thrilling’ – but offer insight into a literary legend – https://theconversation.com/harper-lees-unpublished-stories-are-not-thrilling-but-offer-insight-into-a-literary-legend-267842

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Amin Saikal, Adjunct Professor of Social Sciences, The University of Western Australia; Victoria University; Australian National University

In recent weeks, Pakistan and the Afghan Taliban have engaged in the most serious military clashes between the two neighbours in several years.

Qatar and Turkey mediated a ceasefire on Sunday, bringing an end to the hostilities that have killed dozens of people and wounded hundreds.

Both countries have agreed to respect one another’s territorial integrity. They will meet again in Istanbul later this week to discuss the next steps.

Yet, the situation remains tense, as the underlying causes of the conflict have yet to be resolved.

A haven for terrorism

At the heart of the conflict is Islamabad’s claim the Afghan Taliban have been harbouring and aiding the Pakistani Taliban (also known as Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan, or TTP) in order to change Pakistan along the lines of the Taliban’s extremist Islamic rule in Afghanistan.

The Taliban government has denied Islamabad’s accusations.

Since the Taliban’s return to power in Afghanistan in mid-2021, following the retreat of the United States and its allies, they have once again turned the country into a nest of various terrorist groups. This includes, most importantly, the TTP.

The Taliban have accommodated hundreds of TTP fighters (some with their families) in Afghanistan and boosted the TTP’s combat capabilities, so the group can now engage in deadlier cross-border operations in Pakistan.

According to the United Nations, the TTP has even accessed some of the US$7 billion (A$10.8 billion) worth of weapons left behind by the US and allied forces.

As the TTP has increased its operations in Pakistan, Islamabad has become more intolerant of the Afghan Taliban government.

It has also grown very concerned about Kabul’s ties with Pakistan’s regional rival, India. The Taliban’s acting foreign minister, Amir Khan Mutaqqi, recently visited New Delhi, where he was warmly welcomed by India’s government. Pakistan has traditionally viewed Afghanistan as being part of its backyard of influence.

Pakistan’s military and powerful military intelligence (the Inter-Services Intelligence, or ISI) have sought to counter the threat from Afghanistan by pursuing a strategy of deterrence and punishment.

This has included deporting tens and thousands of refugees back to Afghanistan, most of whom had fled the Taliban’s repressive, discriminatory and misogynist rule. Islamabad has also occasionally bombed targets in Afghanistan.

What led to the recent fighting

The situation escalated sharply this month after the TTP launched attacks on Pakistan security forces, including a suicide bombing on a police training school, killing 23 people.

Pakistan responded by striking what it claimed to be TTP sites in Kabul and Kandahar, where the Taliban’s elusive supreme leader Hibatullah Akhunzadeh reportedly lives.

In retaliation, Taliban forces attacked Pakistani posts along the disputed 2,600-kilometre Afghanistan-Pakistan border (also known as the Durand Line), resulting in considerable military and civilian casualties on both sides.

Pakistan also blocked Afghan transit routes, striking a serious blow to the already devastated Afghan economy. Although the Taliban rerouted their goods through Iranian ports, this is not as financially viable or a proper substitute for Pakistan’s transit routes.

The two sides agreed to a 48-hour ceasefire last week, but it was immediately broken when Pakistan launched more airstrikes that Kabul said killed several cricket players. Islamabad denies civilians were killed.

Pakistan’s dilemma

In the final analysis, Islamabad cannot blame anyone but itself for the challenges it faces from the Afghan Taliban. It nurtured and supported the Taliban as a terrorist group for some three decades.

As Pakistani Defence Minister Kawaja Asif recently acknowledged, Islamabad long pursued a double-edged foreign policy. It has publicly opposed terrorism, while using extremist groups, like the Afghan Taliban and their affiliates, to gain regional influence in its competition with India.

Thanks to this policy, the Afghan Taliban were able to seize power from the mid-1990s to the September 11 2001 al-Qaeda attacks on the US, and subsequently mount an effective resistance to the two-decade-long US-led intervention in Afghanistan. The Taliban were also able to regain power in 2021, to the detriment of both Afghanistan and Pakistan.

It is important to note this conflict is not between Pakistan and the people of Afghanistan, who are languishing under the Taliban’s draconian rule. Rather, this is a conflict between Pakistan and the Taliban government – a patron-client relationship that has now backfired.

The Taliban’s rule in Afghanistan is medievalist and fragile. It needs to be ousted, but this is a matter for the people of Afghanistan, not Pakistan. Foreign intervention in Afghanistan has not worked in the past.

Selfless assistance from the international community is needed to empower the people of Afghanistan to chart their own future. A combination of internal resistance to the Afghan Taliban – and external pressure on the group – is the best way forward.

Amin Saikal does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Pakistan and the Afghan Taliban avoid a deeper war for now, but how long can the peace hold? – https://theconversation.com/pakistan-and-the-afghan-taliban-avoid-a-deeper-war-for-now-but-how-long-can-the-peace-hold-267843

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Stefan Volk, Professor of Management, University of Sydney

You arrive at work, coffee in hand, ready to tackle the day. But your manager seems off, curt in meetings, impatient with questions, and unusually sharp in tone.

Before chalking it up to personality, consider this: they might just be sleep-deprived. Research in organisational behaviour and sleep science suggests that a leader’s sleep quality can significantly shape their behaviour at work – not just their mood, but their decision-making, communication style, and even ethical judgement. And the effects ripple far beyond the manager themselves.

In a multi-day field study tracking supervisors and their teams, researchers found that poor sleep on one night predicted more abusive supervisory behaviour the next day. This wasn’t a fixed trait; the same leaders behaved more positively after better sleep.

The study revealed a clear pattern: when leaders slept poorly, their capacity for self-control dropped. This affected the people around them, leading to more brittle interactions and disengaged teams.

The whole team is affected

This isn’t just about being cranky. Sleep deprivation impairs emotional regulation, reduces patience and increases impulsivity.

Tired managers are more likely to micromanage, react punitively and set an edgy tone, even when their team members are well-rested. These behaviours, in turn, reduce team engagement and discretionary effort. The result is a measurable dip in collective energy and productivity.

Despite the evidence, many organisations still glorify sleep deprivation. Executives who rise at 4am and start working before sunrise are often celebrated as paragons of discipline.

For some, early starts align with their natural circadian rhythms, which regulate our sleep/wake cycle. But for many others, this schedule creates circadian misalignment — a mismatch between biological clocks and social demands — which degrades alertness, mood and long-term health.

Management scholars argue that this culture begins early, in business schools and leadership development programs, where short sleep is normalised as a badge of honour.

But the consequences are serious. Chronic sleep deprivation undermines learning, performance and wellbeing, cultivating leaders who are less resilient, less clear-headed and less engaging at precisely the moments that call for steadiness and persuasion.

Leaders aren’t aware of the value of sleep

Surveys suggest nearly half of leaders report sleep problems, and more than 65% are dissatisfied with how much sleep they get.

Alarmingly, over 40% regularly sleep six hours or less, well below the recommended seven to eight hours for adults. And more than 80% of leaders say that not enough effort was spent to educate them about the importance of sleep.

The short-term effects of sleep deprivation are well known:

• daytime sleepiness
• reduced attention span
• and slower reaction times.

But the long-term consequences are even more concerning. Chronic sleep deprivation increases the risk of depression, addiction, obesity and metabolic disorders. It also impairs self-regulation, making individuals more prone to impulsive behaviours, from unhealthy eating to substance misuse.

For leaders, sleep isn’t just a health issue, it’s a performance issue. Studies show sleep-deprived leaders are less inspiring, less charismatic and, as mentioned earlier, more likely to be abusive towards their teams.

They struggle to manage their emotions, and often are not aware that their hostility stems from poor sleep. This can initiate a downward spiral: negative interactions lead to rumination and stress, which further disrupt sleep, perpetuating the cycle. Even a few nights of poor sleep can damage leader-follower relationships.

And the consequences extend to ethics. Sleep deprivation compromises moral awareness and increases the likelihood of unethical behaviour. One study found a 2.1-hour reduction in sleep led to a 10% decline in moral awareness.

Education can build a healthier workplace

Given the evidence, leadership development programs must take sleep seriously. Career sustainability for leaders means building mental and physical resilience to meet high job demands, and sleep is central to that.

Leaders also play a critical role in modelling healthy behaviours for their teams. By prioritising sleep, they can foster a culture of wellbeing and sustainable performance.

Unfortunately, sleep is still undervalued in many organisations. But that can change. By educating current and future leaders about the science of sleep, organisations can cultivate more effective, ethical and engaging leadership — and healthier workplaces overall.

So next time your manager seems unusually difficult, consider what kind of night they had. A short or restless sleep might be the invisible force shaping today’s workplace dynamics.

Stefan Volk does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Is your manager grumpy in the mornings? Poor sleep can lead to abusive and unethical behaviour – https://theconversation.com/is-your-manager-grumpy-in-the-mornings-poor-sleep-can-lead-to-abusive-and-unethical-behaviour-266793

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Esmé Louise James, Doctor of Philosophy, The University of Melbourne

Kim Kardashian’s clothing brand, Skims, has been no stranger to a controversial campaign. Over the past few years, Skims has repeatedly made headlines for releasing divisive products such as the nipple bra and hip-enhancing shorts.

Its latest release is no exception. Last week, the brand announced the release of an A$70 faux hair micro thong, available in twelve different colour and hair texture variations. The product has rightly been identified as a merkin – a pubic wig, or hairpiece for the pubic area.

While this controversial thong has been released as part of a 1970s-themed campaign, the history of the merkin dates much further back.

Venereal disease

The merkin is believed to have originated in the Early Modern period in Europe. The Oxford Companion to the Body dates its debut to 1450, though its exact origin remains contested.

What is known for certain, however, is the function of this curious piece of clothing. By the end of the 15th century, a major syphilis epidemic had swept Europe. The initial outbreak became known as the “Great Pox”. It led to widespread death and disfigurement, before becoming less virulent in later centuries.

As historian Jon Arrizabalaga and colleagues explain:

In some cases, the lips, nose or eyes were eaten away, or on others the whole of the sexual organs.

Pubic wigs became a practical way to conceal signs of the disease around the genital area. As well as hiding syphilitic sores, merkins could help to mask the scent of rotting flesh by adding a lavender-scented powder to the material.

It has been estimated that by the 18th century, one in five Londoners suffered from syphilitic infection. Admission records of London’s hospitals and workhouse infirmaries show syphilis was particularly rife among young, impoverished and mostly unmarried women, who used commercial sex to support themselves.

With no effective cure for the disease found until the beginning of the 20th century, it is hardly surprising merkins were used to conceal undesirable symptoms.

Pubic lice

Pubic wigs also proved useful for preventing the spread of pubic lice. England and France were battling rampant infestations of lice well into the 17th century. Shaving one’s pubic hair was, understandably, a proven method to prevent infestation.

However, this hairless appearance carried a negative stigma, as it was associated with the presence of disease and prolific engagement with vice.

Pubic wigs offered a solution to this perverse beauty paradox of the time, allowing women to appear unshaven (thus, healthy and clean) while being shaven to prevent infestation and spread of lice. The wigs could be boiled or even baked after use to assure sterilisation.

Appearances in literature

Although cultural awareness clearly predates it, the first recorded use of the term “merkin” comes from John Taylor’s Observations and Travel, published in 1617. It features among a satirical list of exotic and indulgent imports – such as “apes, monkeys, merkins, marmosets” – suggesting it was already recognised as a risqué commodity associated with vanity and excess.

The merkin continued to appear across a wide range of literature from the 17th century, particularly in bawdy pieces of work, such as the following 1661 poem:

He laid her on the ground,
His Spirits fell a ferking,
Her Zeal was in a sound,
He edified her Merkin.

Its use is most commonly associated with sex workers, though it is plausible wealthy individuals would also have adorned themselves with merkins to preserve the appearance of beauty and health.

Powdered wigs were adopted by nobility in the 18th century to conceal hair loss and deformities that resulted from syphilis, so it is not a stretch to imagine merkins would have been adopted as well.

By 1786, the term “merkin” had entered the formal lexicon, defined in Francis Grose’s A Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue as “counterfeit hair for women’s privy parts”.

Merkins today

As public health improved and societal attitudes towards hygiene changed, merkins largely fell out of fashion.

By the late 19th century, they had mostly faded into obscurity and survived only as a quirky historical footnote. One example is the well-known faux-Victorian photograph of a supposed merkin salesman peddling his display case of pubic wigs, which is circulating as though it were a genuine 19th century image.

While the Skims micro thong may appear to be a cheeky novelty, the merkin itself boasts a centuries-long history – evolving from a practical accessory to a provocative fashion statement today.

The Skims line of “full bush” thongs were quickly sold out soon after they were announced. While the company hasn’t made the intention behind the product clear, its virality has certainly sparked a broader conversation about body hair politics.

In many ways, even these cultural conversations mirror those from centuries prior. The merkin’s very existence is proof that women’s body hair has, for hundreds of years, doubled as a potent symbol of health, sexuality, fashion and autonomy.

Esmé Louise James does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Skims has put merkins back on the fashion map. Here’s a brief (and hairy) history of the pubic wig – https://theconversation.com/skims-has-put-merkins-back-on-the-fashion-map-heres-a-brief-and-hairy-history-of-the-pubic-wig-267740