A New•••aa Zealand Qgarter!J' VOLUME SIXTEEN 1962 Reprinted with the permission of The Caxton Press JOHNSON REPRINT CORPORATION JOHNSON REPRINT COMPANY LTD. 111 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10003 Berkeley Square House, London, W. 1 LANDFALL is published with the aid of a grant from the New Zealand Literary Fund. Corrigendum. Landfall 61, March 1962, p. 57, line 5, should read: day you will understand why', or even, 'Learn this now, because I First reprinting, 1968, Johnson Reprint Corporation Printed in the United States of America Landfall A New Zealand Quarterly edited by Charles Brasch and published by The Caxton Press CONTENTS Notes 107 The Brothers, Kevin Lawson 108 Snowfall, Ruth Dallas 109 The Greaser's Story, 0. E. Middleton IIO Three Poems, Raymond Ward 129 Canadian Poetry and the Regional Anthology, R. T. Robertson 134 Washed up on Island Bay, W. H. Oliver 147 New Zealand Since the War (7), Bill Pearson 148 COMMENTARIES : Canadian Letter, Roy Daniells 180 The Broadcasting Corporation Act, R. ]. Harrison 185 REVIEWS: The Turning Wheel, ]ames Bertram 188 Poetry of the Maori, Alan Roddick 192 New Novels, Paul Day 195 Correspondence, David Hall, W. ]. Scott, R. T. Robertson, Wystan Curnow Paintings by Pam Cotton VOLUME SIXTEEN NUMBER TWO JUNE 1962 Notes ON I APRIL, the New Zealand Broadcasting Service became a Cor- poration, and ceased to be a government department. That was the first change necessary if broadcasting, with TV, is to play its proper role in New Zealand life. On another page, Mr Harrison examines the Broadcasting Corporation Act and the measure of independence which it gives the Corporation. The Act is only a beginning; the change so far is largely one of name. A board of three men heads the Corporation, taking the place of the Minister of Broadcasting. They however are only a part-time triumvirate; the direction of and effective responsibility for the two services will be in the hands of the Director General whom they appoint. It is he, backed by his board, who must establish the working independence of the Corporation. If he is a man of vision and experience who understands the potentialities of the media (and no lesser man will be adequate), he will know that their task is to give pleasure and provide news (in every sense of the word) in such a way as to become, in the long run, an influence for enlight- enment and civilization. If on the other hand he is simply or chiefly an administrator, broadcasting will remain what it is today, a char- acterless purveyor of items of entertainment some better some worse, intellectually and morally a cipher; while TV, taking the line of least resistance, will be given over largely to so-called popu- lar programmes of the kind which the public is supposed to want when they have had no chance of seeing and learning to want something better. In short, if broadcasting and TV are not adven- turous and enlightened and progressive in tendency, their influence will become obscurantist and reactionary; they are active forces; they cannot be neutral. We have now a fine opportunity to let them develop to the full and become as vigorous and inventive as we know they can be, reflecting the rich variety of talent, taste and opinion in which the vitality of a complex urban civilization expresses itself. The kind of Director General needed is a determined civilized man who has shown his ability in more than one field preferably and not in New Zealand alone, and who understands the function of the two media in a democratic society. He cannot, by definition, be a mere administrator, whether he comes from broadcasting or 107 outside it. One scientist and two businessmen may do well heading the Corporation-this remains to be seen; but a far wider back- ground is necessary for the direction of its services. The first Dir- ector of the N.Z.B.S., James Shelley, possessed the right sort of qual- ities. A man of his calibre is essential if broadcasting and TV are to be, on balance, powers for good in the life of the country. The Director General whom the triumvirate so quickly appointed is an unknown man who, starting as an accountant, worked his way up in the administrative branch of broadcasting. May he prove equal to his position. THE vitality of the arts in this country usually depends at any given time on the work of a few gifted energetic people. In the theatre, we probably owe most, since the war, to Richard and Edith Campion. It is ironical that the company which they formed, the New Zealand Players (the first full-time professional company the country had had), collapsed about the time when the Arts Advisory Council was set up; one of the Council's objects is to support just such work as that company aimed to do. That Mr Campion has now accepted an appointment in Australia is a serious loss to both amateur and professional theatre. His productions never lacked quality, and he was particularly happy working with students and other amateur groups, which are the nursery of the professional theatre. The country is poorer and smaller for his going. KEVIN LAWSON The Brothers · THEY came as honest men, holding their sadness well as if death had not changed or broken their fierce pride, and went with a promise of friendship at my death. I08 They came from the shadows, a few whose tortured minds cloaked a violent past. Some angered because I love turn from me not speaking. See, how noble they are. Yet already they're hard with guilt of their dying out of the bitter work. Some day I shall think of them and know how well they disguised their terror. RUTH DALLAS Snowfall AGAINST the fallen snow Bushes bare and thorny A delicate structure show Like bamboo on a screen. For a moment, when The snow was falling, Every tree stood laden With blossom of pear. At dusk the bird-cries Haunting the garden, The hungry wax-eyes Disconsolately flying. The round moon shines On mountain snowfields; Soooh, say the pines In the chilled air. 109 Pavement and houses Are sheeted over; Nobody passes. Lighted windows. Close the door. The cat has come in With snowflakes in his fur. Outside is silence. From time to time Fresh snow falls, Swish, like a broom, Or a dance of dry leaves. 0. E. M I D D LE T 0 N Jrhe (;reaser's Stor)V THE Kaitiki was one of those reliable old ships which used to carry cargoes across the Tasman and around the coasts of Australasia. When I joined her, she had a mixed crew of Australians, English- men and New Zealanders, and her crew's quarters and food were poor by comparison with the newer ships. But there was a girl in Sydney I wanted to see again rather badly, so, although it wasn't my usual job I signed on as a greaser, hung up my shore-going gear in the locker, and looked around to see who my cabin-mate would be. He turned out to be a youngish fellow called Johnson from Liver- pool. He was slight and dark with a small scar on the fleshy part of his left cheek. He had a quick, jerky way of speaking, and a habit of darting his eyes about which you noticed the first time you met him. But you strike all sorts at sea. 'As long as he doesn't go throwing boozy parties in the cabin when I'm trying to get some shut-eye ... ' I thought. I found myself on the four to eight watch, Johnson got the twelve to four, and a West-Australian called Slim Young took the eight to twelve. One way and another, several of us found we had bumped into each other at sea, or in port, on other ships. No one IIO seemed to know Scouse Johnson though. In spite of the discharges he had, both coastal and deep-sea, no one seemed to have set eyes on him before. We left Wellington on a fresh June morning with general cargo for Sydney and Newcastle. There were the usual Westerlies in the Strait, but the wind dropped to a breeze as we cleared the coast and we seemed set for a steady, routine trip. Although she had none of the lines of the newer ships, the old Kaitiki was a good sailer. She had been under the same master for years and was reputed to have made millions for her owners in the years she had plied the Tasman. When I went down to relieve Johnson for my first watch, we chatted briefly at the foot of the ladder. 'How's she going, Scouse ?' 'Not too bad. She'd be like an oven in the tropics though.' It was true that the Kaitiki brought forth more noise and heat from her old belly than many a ship twice her size. She had been built in the first place as a coal-burner, but her engines had been converted to oil at about the time of the first world war. 'No wonder so many of the firemen ashore won't have her on' I said to myself as I went about with my can and lump of cotton waste. As soon as my stint was over and I had swapped a few words with Slim, I was glad to get up into the fresh air. When I had showered and hung my gear to dry on a steam pipe, I wandered into the mess for a cup of coffee and found a crowd playing cards.