James Mandarin

Literature

"Jack Davis' play, No Sugar discusses the marginalisation faced by the Aboriginals during colonisation; more specifically, the 20th century."

I focus on the words in the play. Black blotches of ink join together to create small delicate words along a blank canvas. The book smells old. It's small like an envelope and bends easily. It's not a long play, nor is it hard to read. The only problem is the number of characters in the book. That makes it quite difficult to keep track of.

I wouldn't say I love Australian literature. But I don't hate it either.

Jasper Jones was good. The swearing was amazing. I couldn't stop smiling at the funny bits. The book evoked emotions I thought I never had. Writing an essay on the book though, ruined it for me. Over analysing a text destroys it. It's like throwing a novel into a fire and watching as it twists and coils in the flames, before slowly breaking apart and crumbling to dust.

It's quite tragic.

I wouldn't want people to analyse Chloe's poems. That would be a heinous crime. It would be first-degree murder or attack on a work of beauty. I suppose Chloe's poems are one of those things you never analyse. It's something you sit down and read. It's something meant to be absorbed, not investigated, dissected and put together again.

Some things should be left alone and just enjoyed.

It's sad really, how people can be stereotyped and placed in a box because of the colour of their skin. I've never understood that. Aren't we all human with two eyes, two hands and two legs? Don't we all have a soul and a subconscious? Yet, why do we still hate each other?

What makes us human? What makes me human?

Is it the heart pumping in my chest? The fact I have morals and a mind of my own? A dictionary can never give me an answer. Well, at least not all of it. Even an encyclopaedia fails to explain the true meaning of being human.

Humans love. We bleed. We ache. We cry, we laugh, we fall, and we get up once again. Didn't the European settlers feel the same way about the Aboriginals? Were their ways of life too different for them to try and find a way to connect? Was it because they weren't European and white? Is that why?

Were they viewed as savages just because they didn't wear shirt and breeches, and did not speak English?

What can I say? Humans are a tragic race. We inflict pain and death on each other. We destroy civilisations and, species of plants and animals on this planet and yet, destroy one another because we're different.

It must suck, being different.

Chloe doesn't understand it as always. She comes up with a feminist reading of a piece. I smile. She always does that. Female empowerment, she calls it.

It must be a good thing then, being a girl.