Hewettiana. Dorothy Hewett loved 4711. Dorothy Hewett preferred Greta Garbo to Marlene Dietrich. Dorothy Hewett would never knock back a cup of tea. Dorothy Hewett's temper tantrums were referred to as "McEnroes," after the tennis player. Dorothy Hewett enjoyed making theatrical gestures with her hand, showing off a malachite ring given to her by a Russian Writer. Dorothy Hewett called her daughters Bunch and Pose (and many other things). Dorothy Hewett’s family resemble each other so strongly I sometimes call them all "pod people." Dorothy Hewett watched TV like there was no tomorrow. Dorothy Hewett, not Hewitt. Dorothy Hewett's nighties were many and always top quality. Dorothy Hewett would put on powder and lipstick if we came over, and usually burst into tears at the sight of us (happy tears). Dorothy Hewett loved to reminisce about her childhood, and in particular her Lenci doll, her pet lamb, and her sister. Dorothy Hewett pronounced "restaurant" oddly, and invented "portentious," a pretty good word. Dorothy Hewett was sometimes relentless, and quite unreasonable. Dorothy Hewett's favourite reading matter was long books, the longer the better, although you'd be hard pressed to get her to remember the names of any of them. Dorothy Hewett's grave is in just the kind of spot she loved. Dorothy Hewett's hair was often in a tangle, but always soft and silky. Dorothy Hewett's preferred look was "glamour" and "striking," though from time to time she went for "distinguished." Dorothy Hewett's illness was frightening to her and everyone else as well. Dorothy Hewett was an easy touch, but very forgiving. Dorothy Hewett was my mother-in-law (so to speak). Dorothy Hewett was particularly demanding in the areas of food, comfort, and conversation. Dorothy Hewett suffered fools, but not gladly. Dorothy Hewett was a funny mixture of rebellious and resigned. Dorothy Hewett taught me the meaning of the word "agistment." Dorothy Hewett, and Merv Lilley, refused point blank to evacuate during the bushfires. Dorothy Hewett was born on the same day as my own mother (different year). Dorothy Hewett and I had rambling conversations, mostly about family matters, her daughter, and what we were reading. Dorothy Hewett was, at one stage of her career, given a story wheel, like a colour wheel, to "learn" the secret of narrative. She made fun of it in stories. Dorothy Hewett caused me to learn the expressions "bumping in," and "bumping out." Dorothy Hewett made big "eye rolling" expressions when she thought someone was stacking it on. Dorothy Hewett could turn in a flash. Dorothy Hewett died but I remember at least these things about her. Dorothy Hewett wrote "to a new friend" in the copy of Wild Card I asked her to sign (1991). Dorothy Hewett claimed to have cooked, but no one backed her up on that. Dorothy Hewett had quite a few capes in her wardrobe. Dorothy Hewett did not have a head for figures. Dorothy Hewett made up her mind, and that was that. Dorothy Hewett wrote in an unreadable scrawl, and very quickly indeed. Dorothy Hewett was very specific about her likes and dislikes. Dorothy Hewett loved a fuss.
John Kinsella, writing in the Sydney Morning Herald, said of his fellow poet and friend, "If there is such a thing as a great national writer, without subscribing to the parochialisms and narrowness that come with nationalism, it is Dorothy Hewett." Another old friend, the novelist Rosie Scott, said, "Dorothy was one of the most inspirational women I know. A great writer and poet with a lifelong commitment to her craft, she never lost her passion for social justice or her courage in supporting left-wing causes. Her sardonic irreverence, intellect, honesty, warm heart, her encyclopaedic knowledge of Australian literature and history were some of the qualities that made her a formidable friend, a wonderfully talented writer and a great Australian."
The Age: Partnerships and the write stuff One of the most remarkable literary marriages in Australia is that of Dorothy Hewett and Merv Lilley. When they met, Hewett was standing on a soap box in the Domain in Sydney reciting her stirring working-class ballad Clancy and Dooley and Don McCleod. Lilley was mightily impressed with the woman as well as the poem.
``I waited around afterwards to talk to her, but she was surrounded by people and I didn't like to push myself through,'' he said.
Lilley himself had been writing for many years and with Hewett's encouragement went on to write poems, short stories and his memoir about his father, Gatton Man. Today, however, there is a note of regret from Lilley that he never published more widely although there is no rancour.
``Dorothy is the one,'' he said. ``She's the one they want. She's a marvellous writer, I've always had unlimited faith in her work.''
Lilley has recently completed a novel, The Channels, a highly political novel based on many of his own experiences. It is a disappointment to both Hewett and Lilley that the manuscript, while being praised by many people in the writing industry, has not so far been picked up by a publisher.
Hewett feels responsible for Lilley's anti-climactic writing career. ``Merv hasn't made the most of his writing and I think that's my fault,'' she said. ``I had three sons, then we had two daughters together. He spent a lot of his energies running the household while I wrote and taught at the university. He freed me to do a lot more work. I was a better-known writer and obsessive about it which meant that Merv took a secondary role.
``We've been married now for over 40 years. I think his life and experiences have given me greater insight into lives of many other people and
AUSTRALIA COUNCIL : HOT ISSUES : MEDIA RELEASE 2002_30 In marking the sad passing of Dorothy Hewett, the Australia Council also celebrates the gift of her long creative life and the treasured legacy of her work, which will continue to inspire her readers and fellow writers for years to come.
I was saddened to learn of Dorothy Hewett's death on Sunday. Many have written eloquently about the gaping hole her dying will leave in Australia's cultural life. Some have mourned a more personal loss. I had the immeasurable good fortune to be one of Dorothy's students at UWA when she was, as a talented female writer and teacher, held to a tutor's position when others of lesser talent rose through the ranks by reason of male privilege. I was among those who witnessed her emergence as a playwright of force and originality; I saw Chapel Perilous staged at the Octagon Theatre in Perth before it was shut down for offending those of more delicate sensibilities. Her poetry celebrates a landscape and a way of life which many wheat belt kids, like me, still hold close. Her rendering of space and light, of the land's ruthless grasp, her embrace of its terror and destructive power are matchless. I have not seen much of Dorothy in recent years and knew her mainly through her work and the anecdotes that friends relayed. But I will still miss her rebellious spirit, her generosity, her passionate commitment to equality and to our shared humanity, her laconic wit and her sharp eye, as if I saw her only yesterday. I count myself singularly privileged to have known her. Carmen Lawrence, Shadow minister for the arts, Canberra, August 27.
Dorothy Hewett's aptly titled A Baker's Dozen has the same bracing effect. Here are 13 stories that prove what an extraordinary and supple writer this women has been - for so long, and across so many genres (the short story is Hewett's plasticine).
But it is the historical grip on Australian life - city and country life - that is even more remarkable than Hewett's technical virtuosity. She is that rare thing, a political writer whose lyricism and writerly nous is equal to her convictions. And she has range: the geography of her stories, from Perth to Brisbane, Russia to Sri Lanka, is matched by a broad, wry understanding of social class and social conditions. She is too shrewd to be polemical, too self aware; but her registrations of the political circumstances of her characters are acute. And her ear, a dramatist's ear, is perfect. Paul Keating knew how to invoke a period and a pattern of living and thinking by saying something as simple as ``Morphy Richards''. Hewett can do the same with ``Cashmere Bouquet'' - or a hundred other examples.
