Roundabout at Bangalow: An Intimate Chronicle

I would remind the reader that no memoir is entirely reliable. Family stories in particular can't be trusted, nevertheless something of the essential is always preserved. For instance the experience of a small child, punished for wetting the bed by being made to stand in a cloister wrapped in his wet sheet until morning, represents the essence of orphanage experience; while the story of a father diving deep into the flood to retrieve a sunken boat and save his family becomes the truth of his character, of what a father is and does. It's the same with location, particularly the landscapes of childhood. A lighthouse on the Cape or the calm reflective surface of the Big River soon lose their geographical truth. They become focal points around which experience swirls, gathers, then settles into a pattern. Such locations and stories present a quite of memory and desire.