The Confirmation
January, 1976
The minibus held eight, but the short man with the missing tooth had been off sick. So, Patrick Bowen had two seats to himself. He stretched out, his arms across the headrests, and watched familiar country pass by: a dry-stone wall that ran most of the length of this stretch between Gilford and Banbridge; low-grazed pastures; a wind-chimed cottage containing a dreadlocked, naked arse tribe of wild Scots who they’d often see washing in a dam of cold, muddy water; fat cows; rain.
The seven men were returning from a building site. They’d spent the morning raising frames for a row of flats on the outskirts of Gilford. They would be the usual, dreary, can’t-swing-a-cat, hear-everything-your-neighbours say variety of dwelling. They’d put up most of the walls, and braced them, but then the rain had started, and stayed, and now they were heading home early.
This suited Patrick Bowen. Tonight was his son’s Confirmation. It was to be a big night with family and friends, Father…
Madam: Archbishop Fisher (July-August 2024) does not resist the attacks on his church by the political, social or scientific atheists and those who insist on not being told what to do.
Aug 29 2024
6 mins
To claim Aborigines have the world's oldest continuous culture is to misunderstand the meaning of culture, which continuously changes over time and location. For a culture not to change over time would be a reproach and certainly not a cause for celebration, for it would indicate that there had been no capacity to adapt. Clearly this has not been the case
Aug 20 2024
23 mins
A friend and longtime supporter of Quadrant, Clive James sent us a poem in 2010, which we published in our December issue. Like the Taronga Park Aquarium he recalls in its 'mocked-up sandstone cave' it's not to be forgotten
Aug 16 2024
2 mins