Archibald Meston (b. 1851) is remembered as the framer in Queensland of the 1897 Aboriginal Protection Act, legislation which he later helped to implement as Southern Protector. From 1870 until his death in 1924, he published hundreds of articles, stories, poems and letters in Queensland and New South Wales newspapers. While by no means distinguished as literature, this mass of material invites attention not only for its diverse discourses on Indigenous people, but also because it helped to shape the idea of Queensland held by residents and outsiders. The state's history, natural history and geography are Meston's most frequent subjects. This essay seeks to understand further the ideological significance of his journalistic construction of Queensland by examining the connections cultivated in his writings with the poetry of the Romantics, Byron and Shelley, and their American successors, Longfellow and Poe.

Janette Turner Hospital is the author of eight novels, four collections of short stories, a novella published only in French, and a crime thriller under the pseudonym Alex Juniper. Her work has been published in 20 countries, and in 12 languages other than English. She is the recipient of a number of overseas literary awards, and both Griffith University (in 1996) and the University of Queensland (in 2003) have conferred honorary doctorates upon her. In 2003 she won the Queensland Premier's Literary Award for Best Fiction Book for her most recent novel, Due Preparations for the Plague, and the Patrick White Award for Lifetime Literary Achievement.

Visitors to Dunk Island these days can choose to stay at an expensive resort. They may arrive by air at the island's airstrip or by regular boat service from the mainland. They can sail, swim or snorkel. And if they take one of the walking tracks, they may find the cairn that marks the resting place of E. J. Banfield and his wife Bertha, who lived on the island from 1897 to 1923. I would guess that few of those who encounter the site know who Banfield was or what he was doing on Dunk — or even why they should care.

In January 1967 Janette Turner Hospital left Queensland for Boston. She was unpublished. 25 years of age, and very much the product of a loving but fundamentalist childhood that she understood as the ‘source of all comfort and security, but also the source of all harm’. She has called America. India. Canada and France ‘home’ and has also frequently taught in other European countries. Although she has two adult children who have made their lives in the United States and Canada, her parents and three younger brothers remain in Brisbane, so she returns regularly to sustain family ties.

Australians — not least of all historians and political scientists — have long wondered whether Queensland was any different from the other colonies/states. Some of the ways in which it differs from most of its southern sisters — such as its geographical size and decentralised population — have always been obvious. No less well known has been its pursuit of agrarian policies. For much of the second half of the nineteenth century and the first half of the twentieth century, governments of all political persuasions in Queensland preferred to develop primary rather than secondary industries, and consequently favoured rural rather than urban areas. An integral part of agrarianism was its emphasis on closer settlement — that is, breaking the pastoralists' (or squatters') hold over vast areas of land and making smaller and suitable plots of land available to men of limited means, people most often referred to almost romantically as ‘yeoman farmers’. Governments envisaged a colony or state whose economy was based less on huge industries concentrated in a few hands and situated in the cities than on a class of small-scale agriculturalists whose produce would not only feed the population but also be a principal source of wealth.

This grainy old photograph from The Courier-Mail of 2 April 1971, under the headline ‘The Three Ancients’, shows three grey-haired men — James Devaney (identified as being 80 years old), Frank Francis (75), and Robert S. Byrnes (71) — standing around a middle-aged woman who sits at a Victorian-style desk in front of a photograph of the Queen. The caption explains this puzzling image. As an April Fool's Day gesture, the self-styled ‘three ancients’, all former presidents of the Queensland Branch of the Federation of Australian Writers (FAW(Q)), are singing a song called ‘Three Ex-P's’ (to the tune of ‘Three Blind Mice’) to the current president, Maureen Freer. The three men, we are assured, ‘have made a large contribution to the cultural activities of Queensland’.

Mary Mayne was the mother of Mary Emelia and James Mayne, two of the most significant benefactors to The University of Queensland, and the impulse for their philanthropy can partly be traced directly to her. She was an extremely successful businesswoman in colonial Brisbane, yet her business achievements have been overlooked by assumptions that the family's wealth came only from the foundations laid by her husband, Patrick — even though it was her fortune, as well as his, which funded her children's final bequests to the university. By the time of Patrick's death in August 1865, Mary was experienced in business, which was unusual for married women during this era. Her experience and skills enabled her to take over the administration of his estate and, despite his debts, to preserve most of his property holdings. At the same time, she amassed her own fortune. Although she faced a number of hurdles, her success proves that widows with skills and assets were able to operate as effectively as men in the commercial world, and undermines simplistic assumptions about the impact of gender discriminatory barriers in colonial society.

There have been several anecdotal accounts of the literary scene in Brisbane during World War II and numerous references in more general works. In 2000, Queensland Review published some reminiscences of writers Estelle Runcie Pinney, Don Munro, Val Vallis and David Rowbotham, under the title ‘Writing in Brisbane during the Second World War’. Some of the more important general works include Judith Wright's ‘Brisbane in Wartime’, Lynne Strahan's history of Meanjin and Judith Armstrong's biographical work on the Christesens, The Christesen Romance. My interest in this subject arose from editing Judith Wright's autobiography, Half a Lifetime, published in 1999, and recently in editing, with her daughter, letters between Judith Wright and Jack McKinney which were mainly written in Brisbane in the later years of the war and the immediate postwar period. Initially my purpose was to gather information to elucidate people or events mentioned in these writings, but my interest widened to embrace more general information about the period. My research led me to the conclusion that Meanjin and its editor Clem Christesen were catalysts for many of the literary activities in Brisbane during World War II, not just among resident Australians, but among troops temporarily stationed in Brisbane — particularly Americans, whom Christesen cultivated and published. This article records a few glimpses of literary life in Brisbane, and incidentally in the rest of the country, during a period described by Patrick Buckridge as never having been researched ‘in enough detail’.

Queensland politics during the first decade after Federation is a subject which has received little attention from historians and political scientists. In general, they have shown a marked lack of enthusiasm for the era, preferring to rush on to the period after 1915 — the year in which Queensland Labor formed its first viable, long-term government. In this essay, I propose to show that the 1900s was in fact an important turning point in Queensland history. I will show how the almost exclusively developmental political culture of Queensland was successfully challenged by Liberal and Labor parliamentary forces when the Philp government (1899–1903) could not respond adequately to the problems of Federation and domestic recession. I shall also demonstrate that the tentative steps towards social intervention made by Queensland governments during 1903–15 reflected a significant change in political attitudes within a parliament which had traditionally concentrated on supporting capitalist-orientated development. The moderate electoral, industrial and education reforms offered during the 1900s paved the way for the more radical state interventions offered by subsequent Labor administrations between 1915 and 1957.

According to Stephen Dovers, environmental history can provide broad historical perspectives on things like colonial impacts, the evolution of technologies, the emergence of institution settings, the growth of commodity trade and changing land use regimes. It is a useful method of gathering baseline data on the past states of natural environments and, because this often relies on ‘local knowledge’, has the potential to foster community participation and engender community empowerment. Through the intelligent critique of past regimes, such history can, moreover, convey policy lessons, by offering what elsewhere Dovers describes as an ‘antidote to policy amnesia’. He also suggests that ‘a more innocent and less driven purpose’ of environmental history is ‘to unearth stories worth listening to’. While Dovers is careful not to claim too much for environmental history, and concedes that it ‘provides clues and some cues at best’, he may well be understating the power of stories, especially those that relate to relationships between people and place. Peter Hay reminds us that there is a powerful congruence between empathy with place and a commitment to the protection and maintenance of local natural ecosystems. A deep sense of place instils a desire to act ethically towards that place, and usually it is grounded in a concern for the life — human and otherwise — that has been integral to it. However, it is also formed out of emotional attachments to scenery — land and seascapes built up, as Simon Schama puts it, ‘as much from strata of memory as from layers of rock’.

In the capitalistic drive for economic and social ‘restructuring’ and an increase in economic ‘efficiency’, some of the industries supporting small-scale enterprises have been marginalised and labelled as ‘anachronistic’. Whilst studying the culture of the Queensland small-scale sapphire miner, we took the opportunity to observe and analyse a case of how this phenomenon and its consequences can develop in a specific community. Generally, we found that, when state policy supports and encourages larger enterprises to displace established small-scale enterprises in a particular industry, this can have dire consequences for small communities.

Paris, London, Milan, Tokyo, New York, the Gold Coast — the Gold Coast? The Gold Coast may not rank as an international focal point for high fashion, but it can claim the distinction of hosting the world's first major hotel named after, or more accurately branded by, one of the big names of the international fashion industry — Versace.

Redland Shire lies between the Brisbane City limits and the waters of Moreton Bay and is named after its red soil, which has provided fertile farmland since the establishment of the City of Brisbane. The photographic collection entitled ‘Langafonua’ pictures Pacific Islanders building a new life in Redland Shire. In 2002 it was exhibited in the Redlands Gallery from 16 March to 12 April, and then at the Australian Historical Association Annual Conference in Brisbane in July. The photographs and text explore aspects of cultural life of the Polynesian families who immigrated from the South Pacific in the 1970s. The title ‘Langafonua’ connotes the aspirations of this community as it attempts to build a new life in Australia. The migrant families pictured here work in fields that are often on the cusp of rezoning for residential development. Much of the land is still owned by retired Italian farmers who lease the farms to Tongans and Samoans. In the hands of the Islanders, the farms produce the yams, sweet potatoes and bele so beloved by the Polynesian community.

Several things have inspired me to interview the editors of two of Queensland's free gay and lesbian newspapers, Queensland Pride and QNews. First, both newspapers are in transition in 2004. QNews has appointed Australia's first female editor of a broad-spectrum gay community paper. QNews also seemed to be significantly altering the content of its fortnightly publication. At the same time, in an unrelated move, Queensland Pride has shifted from a fortnightly newspaper to a monthly magazine format and included a lesbian-specific section, the L-Pages.