Time: mid-1980s

Scene: Coffee lounge in Canberra where people can know of each other, about each other but only occasionally get to know each other.

We are interested in one group in particular, a group of people in their mid-thirties to early 40s. Around them are the very young – or so it might seem to the people we are zoning in upon. This is a university setting.

The group comprises three men and two women. They are all involved, one way or another, in environmental issues. The men and one of the women are lecturers in either environmental law or environmental philosophy and so on. The men are all going to a film: Letter to Brezhnev. One of the women thinks she might go too. But this meeting has been arranged by the two women for over a week, after several unsuccessful attempts for a month to get together. It goes without saying that these are busy people, not given to idle hours over pots of tea.

The men are only there because they recognised the women and joined them.

The men leave, the women stay.

First woman:   You should have gone to the movie if you really wanted to.

Second woman: No, now they’re gone, I’m quite pleased I didn’t. So how are you getting on? Have you settled into Canberra yet?

First woman: Yes, no, sometimes. I must say, it’s hard in winter. People seem to close themselves up. Its necessary to remember, its not me, its them, its winter. Many mammals hibernate. People do too, only they don’t recognise it. And besides, I felt so high over summer and autumn, this feels like depression by contrast. What about you, how are you going?

Second woman: Well, my life is determined by this book I’m trying to finish writing. I’ve just about finished the first draft. And besides, I don’t live in Canberra you know, I only come in once or twice a week and I’m usually dying to see people. So I have a different slant on it to you. I come here to enjoy myself, and I do.

First woman: Mmmmmm. Must be nice, living in the bush, but close enough to come in when you need people. Choosing when you see people. Sounds almost ideal.

Second woman: Yes. But you know, I miss the spontaneity and haphazardness of sharing my life. Knowing that I’m in charge of nearly everything that happens to me, it can be a bit lonely. Though mind you, its years since I’ve lived with someone, you know. But every now and then I realise that I still think there might be some man

First woman: I don’t want to live with a man in that way ever again. And you probably don’t either, if you really think about it. It gets so you lose the sense of where you end and he begins. And that seems to be the beginning of the end of a relationship.

Second woman: How are you feeling about Julius now? I must say, it was a bit of a shock when you told me it was finished.

First woman: Yes. (Laughs) One minute he’s making a special appointment so that he can ask permission to talk about the time we are together; and a month later he tells me that he doesn’t want a capital R relationship with me any more. His jargon, not mine. I find that black/white view, capital R letter Relationships, a heap of bullshit, an attempt to objectify what can’t be.

Second woman: And yet, you know, I thought Julius had a lot of promise. Of course, that was three years ago. Did he ditch you for a younger woman?

First woman: Aha! Just as I thought he would from the first moment he started using the capital R relationship jargon. I suppose the fact that I predicted it gives me some satisfaction. A little.

Second woman: Sounds so familiar.

First woman: Its not easy, is it, being an older woman? I mean, I really thought Julius was different and I thought that was because he was young, different generation, different culture and conditioning and all that. But its all on a continuum of maleness isn’t it? Men against patriarchy – feminist fuckers I call them in my cynical moments.

Second woman: Yes, this thing about being an older woman.

First woman: It puts us in danger of being used by men on their way somewhere else.

Second woman: Perhaps they think we don’t hurt as much.

First woman: I don’t think that consideration enters their heads.

Second woman: Well, I thought Julius was different. Though I never felt comfortable around his crowd. You know, different music, and this puritanical streak which is supposedly ideological. I preferred it when he came to my place and stayed the weekend.

First woman: On your own ground?

Second woman: I suppose so.

First woman: Well, he never came to my place, the place I call home, I mean. Down in the forests. (Laughs) He would have felt a proper fish out of water down there. Would have done him good. Whereas I don’t feel really at home in Canberra, his stamping ground. We’d go to parties and he’d fly around talking to everyone, putting his arm around beautiful women that he’s probably slept with or will sleep with.

Second woman: You know, I was really cut up when he told me we were through. Same scenario. He was ‘in love’. Actually, mad for a younger woman. But he didn’t want to talk about it or try to work things out. He left me to cold turkey. And I was more vulnerable than he was. You know, despite our age differences, he was much more experienced than me.

First woman: I think it’s a power thing. Julius is so obviously on the climb, trying to mix his radical politics with bureaucracy. Only an infant would think that could be a success. And we are both women with power – from a distance. But when he ‘gets’ us, its almost too easy. And there we are, with our insides hanging out, soft and open and ready for the boot. I resisted for ages, but the minute I capitulated I felt him beginning to distance himself.

Second woman: I’m interested in two men at the moment. I’ll have to decide between them.

First woman: Why?

Second woman: Because they don’t know about each other now, but there’s no way that can last. I’m sure neither of them would tolerate me having relationships with two men.

First woman: Must be nice, feeling desired and all that.

Second woman: Takes up so much time. And they are such different people, if I could put them together, I would have one ideal man.

First woman: Ha! If only it were that easy. You sound as though you wouldn’t be monogamous if you had the choice. Are you older than these two men?

Second woman: Yes of course. But not so much older than I was in comparison to Julius.

First woman: We’re pioneers really. There are no guideposts. It seems that we have only our own experience to rely on.

Second woman: And that of our friends. I wonder why no-one’s written a book about it.

First woman: Yes, there really ought to be a book about it. God, its good to talk to you.

Second woman: Yes, you must come out and stay with me some weekend. Come in spring and I’ll show you the rainforest.

First woman: And let’s not talk about men, eh?

They laugh.

A Canberra conversation.