Counterpoise

This week's 'Music Show', with Andrew Ford, on ABC's Radio National, opened with Hugh Crosthwaite's 'Counterpoise', a haunting work for solo violin.

The piece is played by Sarah Curro, who is interviewed, along with her husband Paul Davies, a luthier, about the different qualities of violins. It's a fascinating interview.

Hugh's piece was inspired by my poem, also called 'Counterpoise', published in my first book of poems, Angels, like laundry.

Counterpoise

 

Behind, beside, before;

once, nonce, hence – 

time pools in the present

tense; deeps of now brim– 

never to be reclaimed,

ever flowing silently away.

Mulch, mushroom, messmate;

foundation, footings, framework –

building begets spaces,

earth cleaves to sky;

light brings forth shadow,

action yields to rest – 

stone, plank, tile,

myrtle, moss, manure.

 

 

Pulse, breath, blink;

bone, flesh, hide –

inner engenders outer,

launches soaring dreams;

summer’s gold garnered for 

fecund swelling fall – 

pith, pulp, peel;

never, nigh, next -

New grows old, old

gives way to new.

On time’s curving arc, end-

ing is beginning –

former, forthwith, final:

past, present, prospect,

was, is, ever.

Mothlight

My third book of poems, Mothlight, has now been published.

Mike Vernon has done a wonderful job with the photographs through the book, making it a beautiful production.

Here are some things that others have said about it – for which I am very grateful:

    In 'Mothlight', Brian Walters reveres both the natural world and the power of the clear poetic line. One poem at a time, he edges us closer to seeing, to captivation, to wild play, to progress. At a time of renewed environmental awareness, this collection invites the reader to do the only thing that is left for us to do – a gentle moving through the world.

–      Amanda Anastasi, poet

 

    I love these poems, the surprise of them, the wideness and range of vision, the delicate precision of the lens shifting from the personal, the heart, to the glory of the world. The exultation and celebration of the natural world is a constant and marvellous echo of Hardy. There is too, a similar humane heart.

–      Helen Elliott, literary critic and writer

 

    A Brian Walters poem is a walk in fair weather and good company in the high country in winter; it is an act of kindness and courage you wish had been your own. His voice is a forest of Old Testament timbers—the Cedars of Lebanon transposed well south and reborn as a sclerophyll woodland. His lines are an elegant eucalypt elegy, a vote of thanks, a currawong choir.

    –         Mark Tredinnick, poet

 

I will be reading my poems at the Poeticas gig, 2 pm this Saturday 27 August 2022 at the Northern Arts Hotel – 359 Barker Street Castlemaine. 

It would be great to see you there!

I was banned by Facebook

 

On 20 August 1944, Count Schwerin von Schwanenberg was brought before the Nazi ‘People’s Court’, charged with treason. He was unshaven and wore no tie. Prominent in the July plot against the Nazi regime, he knew he was about to hang. 

When Nazi judge Roland Freisler angled for an apology, Schwerin would not be cowed, but spoke out about the ‘many murders’ of the Nazi regime ‘at home and abroad’ – drawing Freisler’s apoplectic ire. Hoping they would obtain useful propaganda footage, the Nazis filmed this exchange, and the film has survived – a powerful example of a person speaking truth to power.

 

I posted this clip on Facebook, with some background information, as part of a regular series of posts promoting my book Treason, which recounts the German resistance to Hitler.

 

I have posted the clip a few times before. 

 

This time I received a notification from Facebook that my post was blocked, because it violated Facebook’s community standards. 

 

I was plunged into the Kafkaesque realm of Facebook’s processes.

 

The notification stated ‘this is because you previously posted material that violated Facebook’s community standards’. The previous week, Facebook had notified me of such a breach, but when I asked for a review, they overturned this and apologised for getting it wrong. According to Facebook’s retraction, there was no previous breach. But there was no way for me to point out this mistake to Facebook.

 

The notification set out Facebook’s standards – all laudable – but did not say which standard was breached, nor how. 

 

Despite failing to specify what was wrong, Facebook required me to select from a menu my reason for saying that the post should not be blocked. This is like someone on trial being told to defend themselves when they are not told the charge.

 

Despite this absurdity, I asked for a review and marked the option ‘The post does not violate Facebook’s community standards’.

 

Facebook then advised that they try to have a person review the decision, but could not guarantee this, because of staff shortages due to Covid. 

 

Really? There are plenty of people they could hire to do this task, even during Covid. It’s a task that could readily be performed online. The excuse was specious.

 

Having asked for a review, I received a prompt response. Facebook had reviewed the post (evidently by its algorithms, not by a person, who would scarcely have had time to watch the video clip and read the post). Facebook stated that they had reviewed the post and confirmed that the post violated Facebook’s community standards. Again, they did not say why.

 

One thing is clear: Facebook’s algorithms are incapable of distinguishing an anti-Nazi post from a Nazi post.

 

Facebook then asked me whether the communication from them had been helpful. When I marked that it had not, they thanked me and said they used responses to improve their service.

 

Facebook notified me that there was a right of appeal to Facebook’s ‘Oversight Board’. 

 

This ‘right’ of appeal is illusory. According to Facebook’s own figures, in 2021, the Oversight Board received over a million appeals, but the Board published just 17 decisions, overturning Facebook 11 times. Opting for an appeal was like buying a lottery ticket.

 

Even though a waste of time in terms of reversing the decision, I decided to lodge an appeal anyway. When I tried to click on the link, nothing happened – just the wheel of death as the attempt to log in timed out. I did this several times. Even getting to the Oversight Board was blocked.

 

This was not the first time I’ve had trouble with Facebook’s ‘standards’, with the same opaque processes.

 

Over several years I built up an earlier page promoting my book. I paid Facebook money to promote it, and the page grew to have over 11,000 followers. Then Facebook closed it down (and the linked Instagram feed), without any recourse, saying it violated their community standards, and again failing to say which standards, or how it breached them. Just before publication of my book, I lost all the investment of time and money made in building up this following.

 

As I emailed Facebook (of course, there was no reply) the page 

 

did not violate Facebook’s published community standards. Nor does it violate community standards as any reasonable person would understand them. The content, dealing with the bravery of those who stood up to the Nazi regime, usually at the cost of their lives, is entirely in accordance with the highest community standards.

 

It is important that the events of the Nazi regime, the mass murders which have given us the terms ‘genocide’ and ‘crimes against humanity’, are widely discussed and known. The efforts of those who struggled against that regime should also be part of our shared discourse.

 

I can’t speak truth to Facebook, because they are not listening. Bizarrely, the business takes a perverse pride in its refusal to support its customers. Who knows how Facebook’s processes are intended to work – but it is clear that this platform is not a safe place to invest. It is only capable of dumbing down our shared discourse and, as a result, diminishing our community.