More about Mathinna

I wrote about Mathinna's history last April. This evocative painting of her by Thomas Bock calls me back again and again, and so today I put the unveiling of this portrait in my story, Years of Stone, set in Tasmania in 1842.

But writing is never so simple. Sometimes there are surprises.

Right now I'm revising Years of Stone, rereading and revising, and yet feeling like progress is very slow. I read a note from Rick Bylina this morning who is cutting back on his social 'platform' to free up more time for writing. His cry: Write on! His personal challenge: 500 words a day.

So I thought perhaps I should just try this and write my 500 words.

I began by blocking the scene of a soiree at Government House because it was incomplete. I listed the characters, their potential motivations and conflicts, and then set the scene as Deidre looks at this painting of Mathinna, just unveiled.

Now, of course, I had to go look at the painting again. Here's the surprise. Notice that oval surrounding Mathinna. There's rather an apocryphal story about Australian author Richard Flanagan being inspired by the painting of Mathinna, seen first in a storage room at a museum. The image here is unframed, but if the painting were framed in a typical oval frame, Mathinna's bare feet would be hidden. Ha!

Former convict painter Thomas Bock, truly celebrated today for his insightful early paintings of aboriginals, and popular in the 1830s until his death in 1855 for his portraits of the wealthy, gave us quite a gift. A picture of the essential Mathinna.

Here's the scene that resulted:

Deidre drew closer to the framed, formal painting. Mathinna’s expressive dark eyes looked back at her, forever six years old, a plaintive half-smile on her lips, hands clasped, as Deidre had never seen her,  Mathinna, sitting quietly, no possum nearby.

“What do you think of it?” asked Thomas Bock, his high dome forehead catching the light from the chandeliers above.

“It’s certainly very true to her nature,” replied Deidre. “She seems wistful.”

“Ah, she didn’t want to sit still.”  Bock gestured at the painting. “She wanted to have her little pet painted as well, but Lady Franklin did not approve. So, we made a concession. She was to sit still, and I was to paint her bare feet, but outside the oval of the formal portrait. I wish you could see the whole painting.”

Deidre looked at the painting again and tried to imagine Mathinna's bare feet peeking out from her beloved red dress. With the ornate oval frame, that essential symbol of her freedom and her exuberance hidden, Mathinna was fixed in time, proper and sedate. “It’s still a remarkable painting.”

Source of image: Wikipedia

M is for Mathinna . . .

Today's entry for A-Z Blogging is short for I'm going on an all-day quilting road trip.

Anyone who has seen Thomas Bock's painting of this little aboriginal girl (1842) has been drawn into the story of her short life (1835-1852). In summary, Mathinna was born after the Black Line, that abortive effort by the Government in 1830 to remove all aboriginals from the island of Tasmania by force to Wybalenna on Flinders Island, under the auspices of Reverend Robinson.

When the new Lieutenant-Governor John Franklin and his wife, Lady Jane Franklin, visited Wybalenna in 1838, they (or rather Jane) was entranced by a little girl of 2 or 3 named Mary. They adopted her a year later, renamed her Mathinna, and took her to the formality of life in Government House. From unfettered time and surrounded by her own culture, this little girl now must wear shoes, learn to read and write, and generally adhere to Victorian rules of comportment.

Mathinna, in her own way, rebelled. She ran up and down the halls of Government House, often accompanied by her monkey (which, I imagine, terrorized the household). She refused to wear shoes. She danced with abandon at soirees and rode around town in the Franklin's open carriage, always wearing her favorite red dress.

When the Franklins were recalled in 1843, Lady Franklin very nearly had a nervous breakdown. Mathinna, then about 8 years old, was not taken to England, for the Franklin's family doctor advised that Mathinna would most likely die of the very cold climate there. So, Mathinna was taken to the Queen's Orphan School, where lessons, strict rules, and schedules reigned.

Not much is known of her life after the Franklin's left. But in 1852, she was found drunk and drowned in a ditch at the age of 17. Only her portrait remains.

Source of Thomas Bock's painting of Mathinna.