Speaker 1: Hello again.
Speaker 2: It's Ruby Jones and I'm back to share another episode
Speaker 2: of Read This, Schwartz Media's weekly books podcast, hosted by
Speaker 2: editor of Monthly Michael Williams. It features conversations with some
Speaker 2: of the most talented writers from Australia and around the world.
Speaker 2: In this episode, Michael is chatting with Australian writer Josephine Rowe.
Speaker 2: As always, Michael is here to tell me a little
Speaker 2: bit more about the episode and Michael. Ruby Jones Hello, So, Michael,
Speaker 2: As a podcast host myself, I know that there is
Speaker 2: something really special about learning the guests of the show
Speaker 2: actually listen to it regularly, and I believe you had
Speaker 2: that experience with your guest Josephine Rowe.
Speaker 3: Yes, I'd like to think Ruby, it's more than just vanity.
Speaker 3: You know, there is something very nice when someone comes
Speaker 3: in to do the show and they're already a listener,
Speaker 3: but there's this added element to it with writers, because
Speaker 3: we know that writing is such a kind of solitary
Speaker 3: pursuit that in many ways writers are doomed to labor
Speaker 3: on their own until the end when they finally get
Speaker 3: to come out and talk about it. And the idea
Speaker 3: that a writer and in the case of this week's guest,
Speaker 3: a writer of the caliber of Josephine Rowe is listening
Speaker 3: to Read This and finding stuff in it that resonates
Speaker 3: for her creatively, intellectually, emotionally, is a very rewarding thing.
Speaker 3: The first episode where she had that experience with Read
Speaker 3: This was when we had on as a guest, the
Speaker 3: singular Gerald Manaine, and Gerald tells a story about how
Speaker 3: his creative process works and compares it to looking out
Speaker 3: at a line of trees in the middle distance. And
Speaker 3: while listening to this, Josephine Rowe was working in her
Speaker 3: own house in coastal Victoria, and she had more or
Speaker 3: less the literal embodiment of that experience. She was looking
Speaker 3: out at a similar kind of horizon, a similar set
Speaker 3: of distant trees. And to me, there's something really lovely
Speaker 3: about the fact of two different writers, different experiences, different
Speaker 3: points of their career, but somehow in communion with each
Speaker 3: other look out of a similar rows of trees, both
Speaker 3: literal and figurative. That seems nice to me.
Speaker 2: That's really special. So onto Josephine and her latest novel,
Speaker 2: Little World. Can you tell me a bit about it?
Speaker 3: Yeah, Little world's actually only. Josephine rose second novel, her Verse,
Speaker 3: was called A Loving, Faithful Animal, and it was long
Speaker 3: listed for the Miles Franklin Award back in twenty seventeen.
Speaker 3: It was described in The New York Times as gorgeous
Speaker 3: and having precise language, and that really does sum up
Speaker 3: Josephine Roe's particular gift. In between, she also published a
Speaker 3: collection of short stories similarly. Gorgeous Little World is a
Speaker 3: small book, a slender volume, as publishers like to say,
Speaker 3: but as with all of rose writing, it's much deeper
Speaker 3: and denser than its limited page count might have you expect.
Speaker 3: At the center of it is the story of a saint,
Speaker 3: a young girl we don't know what age she is,
Speaker 3: whose body remains incorruptible and whose mind remains conscious. And
Speaker 3: the story stretches across continents and eras from the nineteen
Speaker 3: fifties to the present day. There's a retired engineer who
Speaker 3: unwittingly becomes a custodian, a woman driving across the Nullibor
Speaker 3: in the mid seventies, and then at all the ends
Speaker 3: in contemporary Victoria with COVID lockdown, Josephine wrote, is just
Speaker 3: so kind of thoughtful and sharply intelligent, and her books
Speaker 3: demonstrate the ways in which she is an author who
Speaker 3: is acutely aware of the traditions into which she's writing,
Speaker 3: but also at the same time she's someone who is
Speaker 3: resolutely carving out her own imaginary landscape. And it was
Speaker 3: a treat to talk to her.
Speaker 2: Coming up In just a moment, Josephine wrote, isn't interested
Speaker 2: in efficiency.
Speaker 4: I didn't intend to write this book.
Speaker 1: Necessarily.
Speaker 4: I had to write this book so that I could
Speaker 4: get back to writing the book that I was meant
Speaker 4: to be writing. And I think at this particular time
Speaker 4: in my life, where it was sort of late thirties,
Speaker 4: I felt like i'd sort of maybe most people, most
Speaker 4: writers feel this between books, you just completely drop off
Speaker 4: the map. Unless your book is a raging success. You
Speaker 4: kind of dip in and out of obscurity. And I
Speaker 4: think that's really fertile and important. So that plus being
Speaker 4: kind of late thirties and I was very transient, kind
Speaker 4: of moving around a lot. Nobody knew where I was living,
Speaker 4: and I was kind of like, nobody's looking quick, nobody's looking.
Speaker 1: You can do whatever you want, and I didn't.
Speaker 4: Actually there were central images in this book that were
Speaker 4: just so resident that I had to had to kind
Speaker 4: of follow through them. But I didn't expect to be
Speaker 4: writing about leprosy colonies in Naaru and Panama and termite
Speaker 4: mounds and you know, and all of these other wild
Speaker 4: places I was to and I did not expect it
Speaker 4: necessarily to be published.
Speaker 1: And that wasn't even the point.
Speaker 3: It's nice to me that it wasn't the point. And
Speaker 3: it's nice to me that you're liberated by the idea
Speaker 3: that no one's watching, so you're allowed, almost as a
Speaker 3: permission thing, you're allowed to do it. Does that suggest
Speaker 3: that this kind of writing, when you're doing it, feels
Speaker 3: like an indulgence.
Speaker 4: Which is not to say that it was easy. It
Speaker 4: took a long time. I tend to put things down
Speaker 4: for a while, put them in the third raw, let them,
Speaker 4: let them kind of mature a bit. And I'm a
Speaker 4: kind of ruthless condenser. So it's, you know, a very
Speaker 4: short novel, but it feels a bit. I hope it
Speaker 4: feels a bit like it's eaten a larger novel, because
Speaker 4: that's pretty much the breadth of it in terms of writing.
Speaker 4: Maybe on some level, writing always feels like an indulgence.
Speaker 4: It is an amazing thing to be able to kind
Speaker 4: of make any sort of livelihood of It's something that
Speaker 4: feels so necessary to you as a form of expression,
Speaker 4: to be both the means and the end.
Speaker 3: So that relationship between that idea of necessity and the
Speaker 3: idea of doubt. Do you remember for you the moment
Speaker 3: if there was such a moment when you developed the
Speaker 3: muscle of self belief where you were like, this is
Speaker 3: worth pursuing. This is a thing that I am going
Speaker 3: to do, regardless of the doubt.
Speaker 4: I guess I started writing quite young, and started publishing
Speaker 4: quite young, and before that there was music. I was
Speaker 4: in bands a lot in my teens and early twenties
Speaker 4: and was writing as well, And there was a point
Speaker 4: where I suppose I felt well, partly, I was surrounded
Speaker 4: by brilliant musicians who really spoke music as a first language,
Speaker 4: and I did not have that background. And perhaps it's
Speaker 4: easier to feel conviction being a self taught inverted commas writer,
Speaker 4: and it is to feel conviction being a self taught musician.
Speaker 4: I don't know if that's true. That was true of
Speaker 4: me maybe, or maybe it was just in terms of
Speaker 4: the people I was in relation to and making music with,
Speaker 4: who I saw as being far, far more talented and
Speaker 4: natural in that than I was. I do love music,
Speaker 4: and I sing and while a lot, but I don't
Speaker 4: write music anymore. There was a point where music sort
Speaker 4: of took the backseat, and then it got out of
Speaker 4: the car al together and I just really focused on.
Speaker 1: Words.
Speaker 3: So the idea that perhaps amongst musicians you felt it
Speaker 3: wasn't your native tongue or your native form in the
Speaker 3: same way it was for some of the people you
Speaker 3: revered when you made that move from music to the
Speaker 3: written word. Were there traditions you found you wanted to
Speaker 3: belong to. Were their writers you found yourself as a
Speaker 3: young writer trying to emulate before you found your own voice.
Speaker 1: Oh who do I?
Speaker 4: I feel is like deep in the fabric, you know,
Speaker 4: when somebody asks your favorite book and you kind of
Speaker 4: like reach back to the favorite books that have been
Speaker 4: your favorite books for twenty twenty five years. But coming
Speaker 4: through Slaughter by Michael and Datcha is a big one
Speaker 4: for me. And again that sort of that conviction to
Speaker 4: start a book with Dolphin Sonar to write about this life.
Speaker 4: You know, the early nineteen hundreds Corner Player in Your
Speaker 4: Orleans that you have a handful of facts about and
Speaker 4: then just to that kind of like wonderful, fragmentary, illuminative
Speaker 4: narrative that he builds from that. And that was a
Speaker 4: book that I read with like, oh, you can do anything, you.
Speaker 1: Just have to.
Speaker 3: I can so see that in your work, sincerely, and
Speaker 3: in that thing of One of the feelings that I
Speaker 3: most am seeking out is that feeling you get of
Speaker 3: I didn't know you could do that. You know, that
Speaker 3: idea that they somehow a license somehow. What's happening with
Speaker 3: the form, what's happening with the sentence on the line
Speaker 3: is confounding my expectations. And the older I git the
Speaker 3: more I read, the rarer it is to get that
Speaker 3: thing of the surprise of the possible.
Speaker 1: Yeah, I think that's writing it.
Speaker 4: It's best as well when you kind of come to
Speaker 4: that junctuary like, well, I didn't.
Speaker 1: Know I could do that? Am I allowed to do that?
Speaker 4: And you have to sort of turn off that critic
Speaker 4: that is kind of policing what is permissible. Maybe sometimes
Speaker 4: I think that that term to give permission or to
Speaker 4: take permission is kind of problematic. Because if I think
Speaker 4: for myself, if I was waiting for permission, I would
Speaker 4: never have become a writer. I just don't come from
Speaker 4: that sort of background. I was raised by libraries. I
Speaker 4: would be nowhere without libraries. I grew up in the
Speaker 4: outer Eastern suburbs in a commission house. There were not
Speaker 4: a lot of books in the house. There was not
Speaker 4: a lot of money for books, but there was, you know,
Speaker 4: the Country Gully Library where I was taking out Leonard
Speaker 4: Cohen poems from the age of about you know, thirteen
Speaker 4: or something like that. And then that sort of trajectory
Speaker 4: to twenty twenty one, twenty twenty two being on a
Speaker 4: research fellowship at the New York Public Library, which is
Speaker 4: I used to get tiery walking into the New York
Speaker 4: Public Library, just the idea this is for everyone, and
Speaker 4: that it's just a great equalizer.
Speaker 3: Do you a linear writer? I mean you described this
Speaker 3: as a small book that has swallowed a big book.
Speaker 3: Do you do you write and then cut down? Do
Speaker 3: you write in fragments and then work out how they
Speaker 3: fit together? Is it a combination?
Speaker 4: I think anybody who was at all interested in efficiency
Speaker 4: would be horrified by the way that I write. I
Speaker 4: write longhand a lot. I think there's just part of
Speaker 4: my brain that completely shuts down if I'm looking at
Speaker 4: a laptop, So I try to leave it out of
Speaker 4: the process for as long as possible. But you know,
Speaker 4: I do think that all of the best thoughts happen
Speaker 4: on the back of an envelope or a piece of
Speaker 4: scrap paper. Hotels stationary Gold. Literally think there was a
Speaker 4: hotel notebook from a while ago that it's felt like
Speaker 4: every every time I wrote something onto that particular notebook,
Speaker 4: it was like a little midas like it turned into
Speaker 4: it bloomed into an idea. Actually, a lot of little
Speaker 4: world was kind of written on that particular hotel station.
Speaker 3: Are you superstitious?
Speaker 1: Yeah, very sorry.
Speaker 3: I was just picking up the vibe from several of
Speaker 3: your answers.
Speaker 1: I think I think I inherited that from my mother.
Speaker 3: Was she superstitious?
Speaker 1: She was very superstitious. Absolutely.
Speaker 3: Did she apply that superstition to kind of the way
Speaker 3: she lived her life or did it constrain the way
Speaker 3: she lived her life?
Speaker 2: Mmm?
Speaker 4: I would say it did constrain in some ways. But
Speaker 4: she did have a certain sort of spookiness about her
Speaker 4: as well, in terms of like knowing what you were thinking.
Speaker 1: Maybe that's just do.
Speaker 3: You think writers have to have that slight spookiness about them,
Speaker 3: like that idea that there are forces beyond their control
Speaker 3: that they are trying to harm s rather than I've had.
Speaker 4: That conversation with Rodney Hall actually about these, you know,
Speaker 4: the sort of coincidences that you are dealt and then
Speaker 4: you can choose to do something with or not, but
Speaker 4: you don't really have a choice. You have to kind
Speaker 4: of follow them through. I don't know if spookiness affects
Speaker 4: writers anymore so than anybody else. Maybe writers are just
Speaker 4: the people who are kind.
Speaker 1: Of like, I'll take an idea wherever I can get
Speaker 1: I'll take direction wherever I can get it. Let's let's
Speaker 1: go with this.
Speaker 3: You do hear it though from writers all the time
Speaker 3: is Oh, that character developed a life of their own,
Speaker 3: and I was surprised to see what happened on the page.
Speaker 3: And you know, I looked up out of a few
Speaker 3: sat and I had twenty thousand words or whatever. That
Speaker 3: idea is the idea that creativity and belief in the
Speaker 3: book have to rely on a kind of more things
Speaker 3: in heaven and earth.
Speaker 1: Yeah.
Speaker 4: Yeah, well then I think with most, with most are forms,
Speaker 4: I think an artist would say, you know, the best
Speaker 4: experience of making anything is that feeling of being a conduit,
Speaker 4: that you're not entirely at the wheel, or you're at
Speaker 4: the wheel, but you're not you know, you're not necessarily
Speaker 4: in charge.
Speaker 3: When we come back, Josephine shares how her relationship with
Speaker 3: saints began and the one thing she can't live without.
Speaker 3: We'll be right back.
Speaker 4: The very first image. And it doesn't spoil it because
Speaker 4: it is the first image. That's the image that opens
Speaker 4: the book, in the first couple of pages, is a
Speaker 4: man standing in the Australian desert waiting to receive the
Speaker 4: body of a child's saint, or who he has been
Speaker 4: told as a child saint, delivered by horse float somewhere
Speaker 4: in like mid twentieth century. That's that's what I had
Speaker 4: a very I'm quite a visual writer, and that that
Speaker 4: was the image that found me sometime in twenty eighteen.
Speaker 4: I actually like flipped back to my notebooks because I
Speaker 4: can't exactly pass how we get from there to Naaruru
Speaker 4: and leprosy.
Speaker 1: And I think I was thinking a lot about about.
Speaker 4: Naru, about what would make a nation amenable to how
Speaker 4: Australia has used it to. Even the term offshore processing
Speaker 4: is such a bloodless, cruel, dehumanizing term. But what makes
Speaker 4: a nation so desperate for revenue that that is the
Speaker 4: industry that they are open to. And so I got
Speaker 4: very interested in Naru's past in terms of phosphate mining
Speaker 4: and I kind of deep dived on that and in
Speaker 4: terms of those unintentional echoes. I went to you know,
Speaker 4: Broom and north of Broom for the first time, and
Speaker 4: that landscape just absolutely fused with this with this opening image,
Speaker 4: I can't remember which came first, and even the kind
Speaker 4: of visual of termite mounds and how those recall the
Speaker 4: pinnacles of limestone that are left over from gouging for
Speaker 4: a phosphate and what top side looks like on Naru.
Speaker 4: Now that was not an intentional visual echo, but that
Speaker 4: is kind of I think aspects of that reoccurred all
Speaker 4: through the book. Things that I didn't set out to
Speaker 4: kind of mirror or to recall, they just happened that way.
Speaker 4: So that was that was the opening image. I wrote
Speaker 4: the first section of the book, which is said in
Speaker 4: the nineteen fifties in the Kimberley and kind of reaches
Speaker 4: back to Naaru in about the nineteen thirties of leading
Speaker 4: up to the Second World War.
Speaker 1: And I wrote the final.
Speaker 4: Part of the book, which is set in an unnamed
Speaker 4: central Victorian town at the outset of the coronavirus, and
Speaker 4: I had an idea of what the sort of middle
Speaker 4: section would be, but it did take a long time
Speaker 4: to write, partly because that middle section, which is a
Speaker 4: bit of a extended fever dream or screenwriting friend told
Speaker 4: me the term vast desert, like the second act being
Speaker 4: a vast desert, and it's from the perspective of the
Speaker 4: driver and she has not slept for a long time,
Speaker 4: and Mattils is the name of the protagonist in that
Speaker 4: section of the book. She is pretty much where I
Speaker 4: channeled all of my own insomnia or I wanted to
Speaker 4: do something with that particular state of mind where you're
Speaker 4: so tired that it really does affect your perception and
Speaker 4: it feels like the edges of things kind of start
Speaker 4: to break down. And that is like a really great
Speaker 4: state to be reading Spinosa in, because you're just kind
Speaker 4: of like, oh, there's no there's no me, there's no youth,
Speaker 4: there's not even us.
Speaker 1: There's just this.
Speaker 3: I've got to say, I'm very impressed with the idea
Speaker 3: that insomnia might be a generative state. That's never been
Speaker 3: my experience. Tell me, what role does emotion play for
Speaker 3: you when you're right?
Speaker 4: I think I'm somebody whose emotions are quite close to
Speaker 4: the surface in lots of ways, or at least it
Speaker 4: feels that way, to the extent that maybe I kind
Speaker 4: of I'm careful of what I let show it this
Speaker 4: offa sometimes I don't know, maybe we're getting into the
Speaker 4: weirds a bit here, but I think I'm often trying
Speaker 4: to kind of find the root cause or the root
Speaker 4: causes for yeah, forefeeling.
Speaker 3: So what about then, through the lens of someone like
Speaker 3: Matilda and a conception of a character like that giving
Speaker 3: her self knowledge, giving her the language to describe what
Speaker 3: she's grappling with? Yes, how much do you want to
Speaker 3: give that over to your character? And how much do
Speaker 3: you accept that as unspoken or at least assumed.
Speaker 4: Yeah, sure, I mean I think something that I hope
Speaker 4: I am getting better at is allowing characters to not
Speaker 4: be articulate, to not have infinite self knowledge. I think
Speaker 4: there's an awful lot that Matilde can't bear to look
Speaker 4: at or even name about her experience, you know, violences,
Speaker 4: harms that she has simply just completely disconnected from as
Speaker 4: a survival mechanism. And I think what were allowed through
Speaker 4: the sort of semi omniscient view of this other character
Speaker 4: who's who i'll refer to as a maybe saint, is
Speaker 4: kind of insight around those things Matilda hides from herself
Speaker 4: were back in her past somewhere.
Speaker 3: Tell me about that maybe saint, and tell me about
Speaker 3: your relationship with saints as an idea.
Speaker 4: Yeah, I think that the first intimation of a saint
Speaker 4: that was interesting to me was in Lenard Cohen's Beautiful Losers.
Speaker 4: I read it at fifteen, and I tried to reread
Speaker 4: it recently, and it is I had to stop after
Speaker 4: a certain point, but there's a there's a saint in
Speaker 4: that book that I, you know, later in life. I
Speaker 4: was really interested in it. It's an caterrat to cock
Speaker 4: with her, who's an indigenous saint or a First Nation saint.
Speaker 4: She was called the Lily of the Mohawks. And I
Speaker 4: was just kind of curious and kind of repulsed about
Speaker 4: what goes into sainthood, I suppose, And in this case,
Speaker 4: it was you know, on death she turned white, which
Speaker 4: is troubling in itself, and that all her small pox
Speaker 4: scars disappeared. Well, I was like, oh, okay, and it's like,
Speaker 4: for whose sake is that? It's forgiveness, it's atonement for
Speaker 4: you know, for things that maybe oughtn't be given. And
Speaker 4: I guess traveling through Europe and kind of walking into
Speaker 4: churches cathedrals where where saints will often be just laid
Speaker 4: out and displayed. In the case of this, I'm going
Speaker 4: to call her a maybe saint. Her body is not
Speaker 4: broken down, so she's kind of like arrested between this
Speaker 4: world and whatever comes after, but her consciousness is still intact.
Speaker 4: I think I had an idea of that when I
Speaker 4: sat out writing the book, but at the start I
Speaker 4: didn't realize that she was going to be such a
Speaker 4: strong voice in the book. Again, it was kind of like, oh,
Speaker 4: I didn't know. I didn't know I.
Speaker 1: Could do that. Okay, oh wait, we go.
Speaker 4: I Actually I was kind of ashamed of myself and
Speaker 4: afterwards because I was like, well, of course she has
Speaker 4: like she has to have autonomy of some kind, even
Speaker 4: if it's like rage, even if it's interior because otherwise
Speaker 4: she's a girl in a box that stands for what
Speaker 4: other people have decided she stands for and represents. And
Speaker 4: so yeah, I became integral that she have a person
Speaker 4: who had a history.
Speaker 3: That makes a lot of sense. That is not if
Speaker 3: it's not an offensive parallel, that's not income system with
Speaker 3: the way. In interviews in the past, you talked about
Speaker 3: the responsibility of depicting animals in your work, that if
Speaker 3: they were only there as a symbol of something rather
Speaker 3: than as a living being, that somehow you were doing
Speaker 3: them an injustice. Yeah.
Speaker 4: Absolutely, I think maybe it just comes down to I'm
Speaker 4: not especially interested in human beings as a superior species,
Speaker 4: and definitely no kind of person as being superior to another,
Speaker 4: and maybe no narrative or story as being We have
Speaker 4: like an attachment to particular narrative arcs of people who overcome,
Speaker 4: and that you know, people are strong. We consider characters
Speaker 4: strong or their lives meaningful only if they sort of
Speaker 4: tick these boxes and if there is a positive change,
Speaker 4: and otherwise is the story not worth telling? Is the
Speaker 4: person less vulnerable if they don't overcome, if they just endure.
Speaker 4: I think I've always been interested in telling those stories
Speaker 4: from the margins. But even that word is wrong because
Speaker 4: it's like the word remote, remote to where, marginal to whom? Yeah,
Speaker 4: you know, they're the center of their own life.
Speaker 3: Yeah, No, that resisting the idea of the kind of
Speaker 3: dominant or normal narrative. Is that resistance an active act
Speaker 3: for you when you write? Or do you find that
Speaker 3: the sense of kind of creative fulfillment organically comes from
Speaker 3: approaching a story slantwise?
Speaker 4: Probably a mix of both. I think I think I
Speaker 4: see myself as being kind of an outsider in lots
Speaker 4: of ways. Again, maybe that's typical of a lot of
Speaker 4: writers and big readers. That's sort of why we show
Speaker 4: up in the first place.
Speaker 1: They were kind of that's why you meet the best
Speaker 1: people in libraries.
Speaker 3: It's funny you said earlier that sense of between books,
Speaker 3: the possibility, even the likelyhood of falling off the map
Speaker 3: when you're between books. You're a peripatetic writer, and I'm
Speaker 3: curious about the effect that's had on your writing, on
Speaker 3: your creative process, on the different lines of trees that
Speaker 3: you're looking at at when you right.
Speaker 1: Yeah, that's a really good question. I like the one
Speaker 1: about the trees.
Speaker 4: I do think the trees and the landscape that you're
Speaker 4: in do shape your your perception. That's part of me
Speaker 4: that really sort of graves grounding actually of one kind
Speaker 4: or another. You know, on my birth certificate the address
Speaker 4: of my mother is a caravan park in Queensland and
Speaker 4: the address of my father is a different caravan park
Speaker 4: in Queensland. And I think that is like a self
Speaker 4: fulfilling prophecy. I mean, that's like the wires in the house.
Speaker 4: And I don't I don't make the rules. I'm just
Speaker 4: laying it's pretty much set out, you.
Speaker 3: Wash up wherever. The best public libraries, that's all about it.
Speaker 4: Yeah, yeah, I think a library card is probably that's
Speaker 4: probably the most thing.
Speaker 3: I respect, that commitment to grammar and passport, library card
Speaker 3: and the passport. What more do you need?
Speaker 1: Not much good parashoes?
Speaker 3: Yeah, that'll alert well. Look, thank you so much for
Speaker 3: joining us today. I really I love this book and
Speaker 3: it's a treat to change.
Speaker 1: You so much, Michael, really really honored to be here.
Speaker 1: Thank you.
Speaker 3: Josephine Rose new book, Little World is available at all
Speaker 3: Good bookstores now.
Speaker 2: Thank you so much for listening to another special episode.
Speaker 2: To read this as always, if you want to dive
Speaker 2: further into the show, you can search for it wherever
Speaker 2: you listen to podcasts. There are more than eighty episodes
Speaker 2: in the Read this archive for you to enjoy. See
Speaker 2: you next week.