Prepared to Go. Prepared to Serve

When God calls you to a place, you have to go. There is no choice in the matter; you have to go where you are sent. While you think you might have an option to go or not to go, the truth is if you are obedient to the word of God then you must go; it brokers no argument. And if we aren’t going, we need to be serving, even if we might be gone tomorrow.

Having come to Canberra in December last year I only thought that it would be a short 1-2 month stay at best, and that come January I would be off teaching out there in the wider world. This was my plan at least, but often God has his own plans. On asking my parents where would be a good place to go to church while I was here in my ‘temporary’ state of affairs, my mum suggested HOG. And so being the good little Christian that I was, I went along. My first night there was a little strange, I didn’t know anyone, and I didn’t really know why I was there, apart from the fact it was church, and I needed to connect with Christians. What I saw though on my first night, the one thing that actually stood out about the community was just that, it was a community. When I use the word community in this sense, I use it to reflect the truest sense of the word, here there was no visible cliques, groups, factions, but instead there was an undercurrent of unity.

This was strange to me, how is it that a large group of people, in particular, how is it that a church can be without fraction? Growing up all the churches I had been to had some sort of divisions, be they generational, cultural, sub-cultural, friendship groups, etc, but here they were nonexistent. I needed to know why. It wasn’t till a few weeks later that Geoff started talking about the history of HOG, and then on a Wednesday about inclusiveness.

On the Wednesday session he brought up something interesting about the group that some might argue suggested the reasons for such unity, and that is as a church, the general view was that everyone was much alike, making it easy to relate with everyone, but he also challenged that norm, and said we needed to include people outside our norm. I think it is this attitude of acceptance, and this desire to accept, that breaks down the barriers that would automatically exist. I believe that if people are there with accepting and open attitudes, divisions wont occur, but if people exclude others for whatever reason, then exclusions will happen, regardless of how alike the larger group might be – I have seen those very types of divisions occur everywhere, where people are alike, yet chose to separate themselves from others like them.

But I digress, and will continue. Seeing this difference to other churches I had been in and being accepted because I am what I am has actually broken down a lot of barriers I put up on moving to Canberra, and just after Christmas I felt the Lord telling me to ‘watch and listen’, and that is what I did, I watched, listened, learnt, and saw a model of Christs church that glorified God in everything, in brokenness and joy, in living, community and desires. A community united, desiring to glorify God. Truly, not just lip service but heartfelt desire that pushed all other desires to the side.

And yet even on seeing this, I still thought my stay was only for a few more weeks, and that said, I refused to put down roots, I was hesitant in making friendships, because I figured that I wasn’t going to be here for long. Fortunately for me everyone starting putting roots into me, investing time to get to know me, sharing about themselves, and before I knew what had happened I had roots, roots tangled with others, and I knew from then it would be difficult to leave of my own accord.

I used the word ‘go’ in my title for a particular reason; the main reason is that God doesn’t desire us to leave relationship, to leave people. He wants us to stay connected, and that should someone ‘leave’ they are merely going somewhere else, but will always be tangled with where they came from.

So here I am now, not sure if I will be here next week, waiting to hear back from an interview 800km away if I get a job or not. There is a real disquiet in my heart too, not one born of any apprehension, but a sadness that I might be really moving on. I have learnt so much since December, and am still learning, and there are relationships here that I don’t want to leave behind should I go, and it’s sad and scary. But I know in my heart right now, that should I be given the job, I will take it, not because it’s a job, but God is telling me that where I go from here is where I have been sent by him. I am going because he so desires that I go, and if I stay, it’s because that is his plans for me right now, just as it was in December, even if I did not know then.

I have been incredibly humbled by God in this. Where I end up a year, 2 years a lifetime from now should never be a choice I make from my own selfishness, but one with an understanding that God want’s to use me there. It is also a challenge, because I think that we need to be in a state of continued preparedness to go. It is easy staying where things are comfortable, safe and calm, and we can get complacent to Gods call for our lives, ignoring opportunities and chances for us to do his work. If we are prepared to go, then we are listening to God, and looking for how he works in our lives, both in the immediate and the future. If we are comfortable it is easy to ignore a command to go, and continue to live as we do. Are we following Christ or are we trying to tell him where we want to go?

There is a second challenge I am only just now learning, this very week, although it has arisen prior, I just haven’t been able to contextualise it until now. This challenge is even harder than being prepared to go; it is the challenge of serving, and committing to serving where we are at, in the immediate. I am incredibly guilty of failing to serve these last few months, I saw my temporary state a perfect excuse to avoid committing to serving, I can cook, but never have I provided dinner after church, I can play an instrument, but never have I offered to play in church, I can serve the community, but in my refusal to put down roots I have shied away. It is easy to serve when you are safe and comfortable, easy to commit to things, in fact sometimes that service is just done to be seen to serve, not offering anything of oneself that is really sacrificial. I know all about this kind of service, that’s how I used to serve at my old churches. But here, knowing that I could be gone whenever God sends me should not be an excuse not to serve.

Serving while being prepared to go, committing to the present, despite what changes the future has in store is incredibly tough. I have always valued my word, that when I say I will do something, I mean that I will do it, in fact it has become a point of pride for me, I am so proud of this fact that I have refused to commit to serve  at church, simply out of fear of breaking my word. I valued my own integrity above serving. It is hard for me to accept that if I can’t do something, then people will forgive me for that, and it’s silly to think that should I roster on to do dinner in 2 weeks time and have to move before then that I will feel I have let people down.

Serving needs to come at a cost, for me that cost is the value I place in my word. When Jesus performed the ultimate cost of serving, it was not comfortable. When Mary washed the feet of Jesus with oil and tears it cost her entire dignity. At the same time, being prepared to go when called comes with its own cost and challenges. In our preparedness to go we are seeking out God first, and his will and plans, listening for him to dictate to our lives. In that same way, in that prepared state we are also in the best position to serve the Lord where we are at, giving of ourselves not because we desire it, but giving because God so desires it. If you are comfortable and serving, is it really a service to others or are you just serving your own desires? Service needs to be sacrificial, giving, generous, and bold. Only being prepared to go where God sends us, be it down the street or another country, can we really serve where and how God desires us to serve. It has to cost, it has to come at a price, be born of self sacrifice.

I know for my own journey, that serving here and now, when I might be some place else tomorrow is a big step, because it means my commitments might be broken, that my integrity might take a hit, but if it doesn’t cost me, then I am merely doing things because I already know I can. I need to grow here and now, as much as I do when God sends me elsewhere. There is a certain urgency that comes with today, and being prepared to go, and/or serve is more important than our own comfort and desires.

Occupy What?

A story of the 1% co-opting the 98% and that other 1% (you know, the wealthy?)

In Martin Place on a sunny Saturday afternoon, in the heart of Sydney a crowd gathers. Discontent with the way the western world order sits they have a message… or do they? In New York the catch cry “we are the 99%” actually holds some water, however in Australia it feels more like “we are the 1% that think we are the 99% against the other 1%”.

That’s right, it is the usual suspects, one tweet sums this whole debacle up with more clarity than I can “Yet more speakers from socialist alliance, solidarity and socialist alternative. Literally. In that order. Let others speak! #occupysydney” As is so typical in Australia we are forever hearing the voices of 2%, 1% with wealth and influence, and 1% extreme lefties with their own anti-everything agendas. In fact it almost feels like there is no unified message, as the anti-1% sentiments that are predominant in the USA are quickly brushed aside to bring forth a host of other issues. It seems like the whole movement is merely a basis where they can platform ideas that despite having merit have no place here. To further frustrate any genuine 99% occupiers is the presence of every union under the sun. A plethora of un-unified and discontent voices drowning out a legitimate message

So what message should we be hearing then? The predominant message in the USA is one of the power and influence which 1% of the population have over the remainder, one of inequity in wealth, influence, opportunity, and social justice. So let us explore how that fits the Australian context.

The first point I will raise is wealth equity, as a simple symptom of unbridled capitalism wealth will forever continue to concentrate on the few. The old adage holds true, the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. In Australia we can already see a widening gap between the working class and the elite, and though not quite so pronounced as in the USA it still exists. One of the principles I can’t actually understand for instance is how pay structures work. It sometimes feels like the rich in this country do very little for their money, while the poor work their asses off to make ends meet, in a supposed meritocracy, merit is often ignored. As someone who is intrigued by aspects of anarcho-syndicalism I find the ideas that all workers should benefit from a businesses success have merit, not some sugar daddy who owns it, paying his workers little of the results of their labour, it could even be argued that we are well on the way to what is known as “wage slavery”.

The next aspect of the Australian context is that of influence. In Australian politics we have two major parties, Liberal and Labor. The Coalition speaks for corporate Australia while Labor speaks for Unions. Now Unions you might say could be regarded as the voice of the working class, but I will argue to disagree. Unions may have been relevant 100 years ago, but today they are more like self serving intuitions, more interested in their own survival than actually representing workers. An interesting fact to note is that union participation had spiralled to an all time low in 2008, picking up some in 2009 and 2010. The only real reason why you could argue for this drop is a perceived view that unions are largely irrelevant.

If our two major parties answer chiefly to these two sectors who answers to the Australian public at large? When was the last time you felt you could gain the ear of your local member, let alone the Prime Minister. So often the public are piped through aides and assistants before we can be heard, but if you are a representative of say, the mining companies, you can get your own private audience with the PM, have a chat, and tell them to drop the mining tax (http://www.abc.net.au/unleashed/2869942.html). This influence over politics that corporations hold is further seen in the privatised media as well as the massive spending on advertising campaigns. Recall the ad campaign launched by miners to oppose the mining tax? It aimed at creating fear in the public, and fear it did, giving weight a swing in the polls in the Coalitions favour and eventually forcing the Labor powerbrokers to out then Prime Minister Kevin Rudd for Julia Gillard. On top of the obvious media influence is the subversive influence of the media. People form and shape opinions based on how they are informed, and seeing that Australia’s most consumed news sources are all privately owned by rich media moguls it makes you wonder how much of what we believe is really our own reasoning.

Lastly I want to talk about transparency in democracy. As you are probably aware, Julian Aasange, founder of WikiLeaks is being held in the UK on extradition charges from Sweden. There is a lot of holes in the cases which have come against Assange, and some people go so far as to point to the US reaction to the publishing of a multitude of cabals by WikiLeaks as the cause for his current plight. You would think that in a democratic country, where governments are supposedly elected by the people for the people, then the people would know about, or be entitled to know about everything the government does. This is not the case quite clearly, as we are well aware that governments often have secret and classified information, which gets released only well after events to which they were relevant. If I elect a government, I would at least expect to be able to go in and see what they are doing.

Democracy has a long way to go before it truly is democratic, and capitalism is a system that works, but is as suspect to human greed and corruption as any system. Occupy Sydney has failed to address any of these issues; instead it has been hijacked by political activists flogging their same messages they always have. They are just 1% of the 99% who have failed to actually recognise the other 98% which they claim to be a part of, and as long as they keep pushing their messages instead of ones pertaining to the misrepresentation of the 99% the movement will remain insignificant here. It is sad, but Occupy Sydney has been co-opted by the protesters themselves. 

Econo(my)-God

(some explicit language)

More important than humanity,

More important than dignity,

More important than life,

We worship you daily, how do you fare?

It is important that you are stable,

That we can rely on you—

There is nothing else to rely on.

We rely on you for security, keep us safe.

We rely on you for peace of mind, I am invested in you.

We rely on you for purpose, without you what would we do?

Question the legitimacy of other Gods, and rationale them away

Yet worship you we will, till our final day.

A greater construct than any divinity,

Created by ourselves for our own validity,

And we think we have control.

Some of you have been predestined to prosperity—

Your father’s wealth.

Most of us predestined to poverty—

Your father’s wealth.

Thy will be done of course, it is better this way.

So long as we worship you, we keep the status quo,

Protect those in power, they know better of course...

Fuck you.

Fuck you, economy.

My profanity: a sin (I take your name in vain).

Fuck you, economy.

What have you done for the world lately?

Consigned billions to:

 - poverty

 - hunger

 - death

You let the rich sit in castles of glistening glass and steel

Reaching for the heavens, like one hundred towers of Babel.

While in the dirt below the masses seethe like waste,

Etching out a living, dust for bread, mud for wine.

So I will blaspheme, and walk a different path,

One not shadowed by dogma and religious zeal.

Count me among the excommunicated from your church of pillage.

9/11, Terrorism and Perspective

Ten years ago I watched on with the rest of the world as the World Trade Centre in New York burned. Like so many others I was shocked, awed, appalled and angry. When you see the images today there is still an element of disbelief and the images fail to really sink in and become real. But it was real and the world changed that day, whether or not it changed how anyone expected it would, it changed nonetheless. Whilst 9/11 was a horrific event, the events that have unfolded in the world since, and as a result of that day are possibly just as horrific. 

Terror, freedom and rights

One of the first issues I think is critical to look at in terms of the fallout of 9/11 is the effects it has had on the west, as well as on the Muslim world and the Middle East. Since the events that unfolded in New York there has been an almost unprecedented and near universal increase in ‘security’ in the west. In particular the United States has been affected greatly by this. The most notable measure taken to ensure security is the Patriot Act, or the Uniting (and) Strengthening America (by) Providing Appropriate Tools Required (to) Intercept (and) Obstruct Terrorism Act. I find it almost ironic that now in the ‘land of the free’, freedom is a commodity that is in short supply. The patriot act served as a means for the government and police agencies to operate under lest restrictions, enabling them to ‘fight terror’ at home. Whilst some would argue that the Patriot Act is a necessary evil to ensure that the American way of life is protected, the act itself contradicts with basic American principles of freedom and democracy—is the American way of life being protected, or has the American way of life been destroyed by its own government?

It is interesting to look at the Act as a form of terrorism, maybe a non-violent form, but the Act itself poses to perpetuate the idea that ‘anyone could be a terrorist’. This indirect fear mongering permeates an Act established on fear—the American Government played perfectly into the extremist’s hands, and allowed the event to change the American way of life, to infuse it with fear and breed hatred. It is ironic that an Act aimed to protect freedom diminished freedom. American’s have become victims of their own fear, and it is manifest still today, with invasive measures that anyone fifteen years ago would find almost impossible to conceive ever taking place. Full body scans at airports, highly armed security officers, unrestricted phone taps, internet monitoring, all these have become the norm, not the exception, and I am sure had Stalin had these tools available to him, he would have used them himself. It is these same types of tools that if slightly misused or abused can turn a state like the USA into a state like China—and it wouldn’t take much of a push.

It is important not to single out the USA here either, Great Britain, Australia, and most other westernised countries have all taken a step in this direction, some to a greater extent than others. In the UK you can’t walk down a street without having several different cameras film your every move. All these measures are a response to extremist terrorist acts against the west, acts of which you are more likely to be struck by lightning than ever really being a victim of. So why spend so much money on something that is, when put into perspective, a relatively minor annoyance? The answer is simple, visible politics. If the politicians are seen to be taking action, we can get behind them, even when the achievement is costly for almost no tangible result.

Perpetuating Dichotomies 

Another issue that has arisen as a result of terrorism is the perpetuation of dichotomies. There is a ‘them’ and ‘us’ mentality the world has taken on. I remember the Afghanistan war and the ‘axis of evil’ where, somewhere, somehow, along the line notions of differences have become the main discourse. They are ‘evil’, we are ‘good’, there is ‘Muslims’ and the ‘west’, ‘Arab’ and ‘American’, ‘terrorists’ and ‘the US army’. All these dichotomies exist, and are continually reinforced through the media and politicians. For some reason it is wrong to point out the atrocities of the war in Iraq, with countless civilian deaths (caused by both sides), and calling it terror. The west wages a ‘war on terror’ against the Muslim nations, but sometimes I think calling a ‘war of terror’ would be more apt. What could be more terrifying than not knowing if today is the day a bomb from the coalition of the willing (oh look another dichotomy, willing and unwilling) is going to land on your house, killing your children, and leaving you critically injured? More innocents have died in Afghanistan than Americans died on September 11, yet we continually try to justify the war.

We perpetuate these dichotomies as a means to garner support; ‘you are with us or against us’ mentalities are rife. Talk to any Muslim on the street today and ask them have they suffered discrimination because of their background, the result might shock you. These dichotomies enable us to feel justified in our war efforts, and satisfied with how things are going, because it aims to separate us, taking away the impact of the reality—a reality in which we really aren’t so different. The problem with perpetuating these dichotomies is so profound it is almost agonising seeing them played out. We are raising a generation who fear and hate what they are told is different, because it is all they have ever known. We need these discourses to protect our sanity and desensitise us to what is really happening.

They are people too.

They might have a different perspective, and see the world in a different light, but they are people, and the dangers of separating ‘them’ and ‘us’ is that BOTH sides will resent each other, fracturing humanity and cutting off any discussions that could bring us closer together in understanding to end the continual hatred.

Ten Years From Now

I worry. I worry that ten years from now, things won’t be better, things will be worse. I fear the massive blow-outs in military spending, neglecting the needy and starving. I fear the continued hatred, instead of resolving issues and coming together I worry that we will be at loggerheads, that the dichotomies of ‘them’ and ‘us’ will exist to a point where we need another civil rights movement. I worry that we won’t learn from history and our errors, and instead of working together to create a better humanity we continue to alienate each other. I worry that states won’t repeal the invasive security measures we see today, and they will become the norm.

At the same time I hope. I hope that we can actually put these differences aside after ten years of bitter conflict and move forward into a peaceful world with understanding.

Feel free to add your thoughts, to agree/disagree with me.

I want to know your own opinions, how do you think the world might look ten years from now? Do you agree with the war and measures taken by our governments?

I Love Summer

I love summer.

I love the oppressive heat, the sun beating down against exposed flesh. The hot, dry westerlies which blow long into the night. I love the thick humidity, when walking feels akin to swimming, and when the sweat sticks sweetly to your skin—refusing to give you a moment’s comfort. I love the smells, the scent of salt hanging heavy in the air, the aroma of the flora, flooding my olfactory organs with their heady brew. I love the colour, deep greens and soft blues, diffused by a lingering haze. The grey-green of the ocean, now blue as the atmosphere refracts from its churning surface, stretching far into the horizon; blue against blue, where the ocean and sky dissolve as one. White sun burns my eyes, white sand burns my feet, which I bury, the grains cool underneath. All about me cloth of every colour floats, hanging loosely from bronzed-coloured skin. I love the sound of cicadas buzzing their song, the roar of the ocean and hum of contentment.

I love the sweet relief of the afternoon tempest, fat drops of rain that melt on parched skin and baked concrete alike. The cool blasts of wind, lashing like whips of sweet bliss. I love the towering dark, anvils forged in summer flame, their heaven-reaching shadows turn the bright contrast to saturated grey. I love the flash of pink lightning, Thor’s hammering boom, the echoes of titans. I love the smell of dust before fresh-falling rain, the tang of day washed down by sweet water. I love the roar as the climax thrills my ears, a cacophony for the senses; music on the roof.

I love the swelling heat that follows squalls past, the lingering rainbow, the soft, cool, wet grass. I love the storm-washed sky, clear clouds that linger on, are painted gold-pink by the setting sun. The warm nights that follow, filled with smiles that taste the most magnificent morsels, sweet fruits and cool drink. I love the sound of laughter, and the crickets that chirp, raising their voice with cicadas. Bright eyes, warm skin, cool sweat, hot breath.

I love summer.

Oh the Irony...

So, over the last few days I have been working hard... kind of... well not really, due to procrastination, on an assignment. And yes this post is just another means for procrastination, but I thought I might share a little something that I found ironic.

Currently this paper is on the affects of caffeine on the youth of today, and I guess for that matter tomorrow and yesterday. The irony lies in the fact I am consuming unhealthy amounts of caffeine so I don't get penalised for a late submission. Some of the facts are astounding though in the amount of caffeine youths are taking today, one in five kids take over 200mg! DAILY! Now recently this year I have weaned myself off a dependency on caffeine. I used to take maybe 75mg a day on average (1 1/2 cups of coffee), with some days where I would take up to 250mg (2 coffees and a Rockstar). Now my daily average would probably be about 25mg, only due to about a coffee every 2nd day or so.

So, why am I telling you all about my diet, well lets start with the fact that when I went about a month with no caffeine at all I felt great. I woke up every day feeling fresh and energetic. My head was often clear and it wasn't too difficult to concentrate. It was wonderful. Then, uni started back up, and I am one hell of a sucker for the taste of coffee, and before long Rush, Rush 2 and Out to Lunch were getting my patronage (these are places to get coffee on campus FYI, and they server great coffee). What hit me though, in particular while working on this assignment is how unhelpful my recent falling back in love with coffee has been. 

I am a procrastinator, I like leaving things to the last minute and I thrive under the pressure of the looming deadline. What this does however, is require an intake of stimulants as my night drags on; and caffeine is there to bail me out every time. What turned out to be unhelpful though was that after I dosed up, I found it difficult to concentrate on my work. My mind was abuzz. Focusing was next to impossible, and as the night dragged on, I realised that my once old friend coffee was now an enemy. My head was muddled, unclear. It was hard to concentrate, and all I want to do in the morning is laze about in bed.

This is a far cry from what life was like caffeine-free, when getting out of bed was easy. Something this assignment has done though, it has made me acutely aware of the other affects of caffeine I never thought of, from its ability to be a performance enhancer in terms of working out, to something that leads to a whole plethora of other problems. While caffeine might not be directly responsible for heart disease for instance, someone who suffers arrhythmia might find themselves in dire straights after taking a large dose of caffeine (200mg+). Don't even start me though on how regular caffeine affects your brain chemistry, that's a whole other can of worms.

Anyway, I feel I have made my point. It is ironic I am consuming caffeine whilst being made so acutely aware of its dangers, and maybe... just maybe, I will save $3.50 every time I am at uni and call it quits on my old pal.

FYI, I still love coffee, and always will, I shall just learn to live apart... for both our sakes.

Female Authors and the Literary Elite

   An interview was drawn to my attention today with V.S Naipaul (http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2011/jun/02/vs-naipaul-jane-austen-women-writers), in which he basically writes-off women authors. Now why I may not agree with the generalisation that he makes, after careful deliberation, I actually find myself shocked to agree with him! Now before you stop reading this and write my own opinion off, just hear me out. On reading this article, I actually realised that I have very few books on my shelf which are written by women, something I found quite perplexing. It’s not that I don’t read books written by women, in fact I have read quite a few, but the books I often buy are books where I appreciate the authors writing. It just so happens, I like what men write more than women.

      When one considers the wider world of reading, there is a vast plethora of male writers who show incredible craft, and very few female. In fact though some consider the works of Jane Austen to be fantastic, I myself find them a sentimental bore. I have read some of the stuff written by Naipaul, and I really enjoy his writing, he truly does have a gift and depth of craft that not many living authors have today. When I think about women authors that have actually challenged me to think while reading their novels, I can’t even dredge up a name—actually I lie, there is ONE book I have read, written by a female that has really got me thinking, and that is Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl by Harriet Jacobs. But even then, I don’t think it’s the craft that challenged me, so much as the content, it is a raw depiction of one girls struggle in a society where slavery is the norm, and I think the reason why it is so harrowing is that it is autobiographical.

            So let’s look at some female authors shall we. J.K Rowling is a female author I enjoy, but her level of craft is somewhat telling. She has improved vastly over the Harry Potter series, but she is still fairly sentimental (which doesn’t necessarily take away from the enjoyment). Stephanie Meyer is another female author who has risen to success lately, and don’t even get me started on the tripe she produces, if anything she helps Naipaul’s argument! Patricia Cornwall is another successful female author, but I find her books predictable, and she sticks rigidly to the tropes of crime fiction. There is perhaps only one female author I can think of who really stands out from all the others, one who continually surprises, innovated and shows incredible craft, Agatha Christie. I don’t really need to say much about her, as I’m sure most have read her books sometime in their lives, and if not, should.

            So what does this all mean? Well perhaps female authors still have a ways to go to actually get an even footing with men. I think perhaps some of the reasons for this lies in the history of writing itself. For the longest time writing has very often been a males domain, especially when it comes to writers of literary fiction. If you look back to the end of the 19^th century there was a wave of authors who wrote fiction for the intelligentsia, educated, sophisticated and complex, most of these authors would fall into the category of ‘literary fiction’, a highbrow, very complex, but extremely well written genre. Authors like T.S Elliot, Tolstoy, Henry James, Mark Twain, Oscar Wilde, et al. are all well noted, and all male. Sure there were females, more noted for their poetry works than prose. I hear many people bemoan these authors as boring, hard to read, highbrow etc. And they aren’t all wrong, after all War and Peace though a fantastic read is often tiresome, and hardly what one would call a page turner.

            What we have is a literary elite, for the educated elite, a category that Naipaul actually falls into himself. The notable part here is these writers often pre-dated the feminist and equality movements, which basically means that our perception of the literary elite as male, more often actually reflects the male dominated world in which they wrote: for male readers. Obviously the world has moved on from then, from the mass production of fiction at the turn of the 20^th century to now, the literary elite have been in decline. What has come to be more important than ones craft with words is ones ability to create an entertaining story. No longer are audiences interested in how well ones sentence is constructed, and the breadth and depth of ones vocabulary. As an English teacher in training, I actually find this conflicting. Part of me is elitist you see, part of me values the English language and how it is used and crafted, but part of me loves to watch culture evolve and change, and in the post-modern era high culture is dead.

            Naipaul is probably right therefore in his criticisms of female authors, and probably right in citing their lack of craft. But does it actually matter? Who are the authors that will be considered into the new literary elite in 100 years from now? No doubt it will be the authors who sold well (like Jane Austen did), wrote well, and were able to construct a sentence without the need of much of the new lingo developing in this digital age. What I can say, with confidence, is that the level of craft of female authors is defiantly on the rise, and with females now making up the majority of people who read, authors who write to this audience will emerge, and no doubt many of them will be female, and somewhere, there will be ones who show incredible craft and mastery of the English language. The hope is they move from more sentimental themes and start to challenge the way in which we think and view the society we live in.