This special double-sized issue of Island
celebrates a number – 100 – that few foresaw
when, back in 1979 (the year giving birth to Alien, the
Iranian revolution, Greenpeace International, Thatcher’s
election, V S Naipaul’s A Bend in the River, Pink
Floyd’s The Wall, SALT II, Sophie’s Choice,
Apocalypse Now, Mad Max and Highway to Hell),
a small group of Hobart writers founded The Tasmanian Review.
Forty-two pages long, and staple-bound on paper of such modest
quality that it is see-through, its editorial stated that ‘the
two criteria which determine the selection of material for the
journal are excellence and variety’. The
vitality and flexibility of those two criteria are such that they
remain on the masthead today. The editorial also noted the production
of the issue ‘by voluntary effort and without any government
funding’. In the second issue, editors Andrew Sant and Michael
Denholm were able to report on an ‘enthusiastic response’
from readers and a ‘substantial inflow of subscriptions’.
Even so: ‘It is our aim to pay contributors as soon as it
is financially possible.’ The next editorial carried welcome
news from the state government’s Tasmanian Arts Advisory
Board, in the form of ‘a small guarantee against loss over
the forthcoming year’. And so the predecessor of Island
took root.
Importantly, perhaps audaciously, the editors aimed
at a national readership and that too has remained
a feature of the magazine, coexisting with its strong
Tasmanian identity. National literary magazines require
state and federal funding to survive and thrive.
The persistence and longevity of magazines such as Meanjin, Overland and Island,
with their strong subscriber bases, are proven indicators
that those taxpayers’ literary dollars are
well spent. Island thanks the TAAB and the
Literature Board of the Australia Council for their
support over the years, as well as the University
of Tasmania, which has maintained close links with Island since
the early 1980s. Thanks are also due to those who
have served on its Management Committee, which came
into being in response to a difficult period, and
which has since played an important role in guiding
the magazine’s fortunes.
It is easy to overlook the unseen production side
of a publication. Over the past twenty-five years
the magazine’s various designers, layout artists,
subeditors, proofreaders and printers have worked
assiduously – often out of hours – to
ensure a high standard publication produced four
times a year. In particular, designer Lynda Warner
continues to provide outstanding service to Island.
Cassandra Pybus edited Island between 1990
and 1994. Rodney Croome then edited Island until
1999, when for a short period it had an interim editor,
Russell Kelly. Format and content quite clearly reflect
each major editorial period, and the roll call of
authors and commentators who have appeared in the
magazine’s pages is impressive.
Putting this issue together, with poetry editor
James Charlton, has been a pleasure and a privilege.
All of Island’s past editors were
invited to send in an essay of their choice, and,
in the case of past poetry editors, recent work.
A selected group who, in one way or another, have
been closely associated with the magazine over a
long period, were also invited to submit short essays
or stories, all reproduced here. Richard Flanagan’s
screenplay The Scent of Bread would highlight
any issue of a literary magazine; that it is published
in Island 100 is especially rewarding.
Needless to say the ordinary business of the magazine
goes on. Today more than ever Australian writers
rely on small magazines as primary publication outlets,
which is why this issue contains a range of fine
stories by emerging writers. And the lead essay ‘Humbaba’ by
writer and environment photographer Martin Hawes
was commissioned for this issue. It’s fitting,
given Island’s commitment to environmental
writing, that Hawes ruminated upon the project while
on a solitary walking trip ‘in the splendour
of some of the wildest country on Earth’.
Since 2001 the Tasmanian state government has sponsored
the biennial Tasmania Pacific Region book prizes.
Not without past controversy, they have nonetheless
achieved international prominence and Island again
runs extracts from the shortlisted books – twelve
in all. It’s unusual and pleasing to be able
to publish such a variety of quality material as
a single Feature, by Australian and New Zealand authors,
both eminent and less known.
Sant and Denholm co-edited the magazine for ten
years and are on record as indicating their pleased
surprise that it managed to last that long. Taking
their cue, I would not be so bold as to emphatically
predict another landmark issue of Island in
2030. But only a pessimist would rule it out, unlike Island’s
longtime subscribers, whose faith in and contribution
to the magazine continues to prove invaluable, for
Tasmanian and Australian literature.