Condition: Near new
For decades Michael Leunig has delighted and enthralled people across Australia and around the world. As an elder statesman for Australia his religious and political influence is widely felt through his poetry, artworks and cartoons.
It is interesting to note how often articles interviewing him are appearing in foreign newspapers from New Zealand to the United Kingdom and the United States. In recent times his views on the changing sociopolitical nature of Australia due to changes made by the Liberal government have been the main theme. People pay attention and hear what he has to say. He has a simplified world view that relates mainly to the messages of peace, love and the interaction of his soul with ducks and teapots.
The book on offer here is one of his more recent offerings but the messages within as always are thought provoking and often a challenge to the status quo.
Leunig’s cartoons remain timeless in their simple forms and heart warming messages. If the clutter in your life and soul is piling up then a book like this is just the remedy to help see the world anew and move on in a more positive light.
Some cartoons have previously appeared in the Sydney Morning Herald and the Melbourne Age.
Overall the book is in near new condition and is a fine addition to any library.
Please see the pictures and enjoy the small sample of his work from within.
Title – A New Penguin Leunig
Author – Leunig, Michael
138 pages of colour illustrations 19 x21 cm.
Subjects include Australian wit and humor, pictorial caricatures and cartoons
Published by Penguin Group Australia Victoria Australia
Transcript comments between television presenter Andrew Denton and Michael Leunig from the ABC television show “Enough Rope with Andrew Denton”
ANDREW DENTON: Please welcome a true one of a kind, Michael Leunig. Welcome. I have just discovered moments before this interview began that you are almost deaf in your right ear is that right?
MICHAEL LEUNIG: I’m totally deaf in my right ear, yeah.
ANDREW DENTON: So any questions I ask you about the right in Australia you’re not going to hear?
MICHAEL LEUNIG: Quite possibly, but I’m a bit blind in my left eye recently, so it’s all balanced.
ANDREW DENTON: Now once more for the beginners, what was the duck about?
MICHAEL LEUNIG: Well, I don’t know. I thought everybody would understand what a duck is about, and it’s just there is the duck. And suddenly the whole nation seems perplexed about what does a duck mean? I think a nation is in trouble that cannot accept a duck.
ANDREW DENTON: You’ve started the career you have now in your early 20s and originally it was for news day and your job was to deliver the political cartoon by 9:30 in the morning every day, which didn’t really suit you. How did you come to leave the straight and narrow of topical cartooning for the bent and curly of Michael Leunig?
MICHAEL LEUNIG: Well, I became a cartoonist because I’d sort of failed at everything else, really. I mean, it was by default. I’d worked in factories and things, and I thought, I must find something to do. So it’s a bit like becoming a musician. You sort of get a gig, you know, you draw and someone likes that drawing, and someone asks you to do another one. So I get to this newspaper and then I’m asked to be a cartoonist, to comment on the world of politics which I didn’t know a great deal about. I was very green. And it was drawing a cartoon about the Vietnam War. There had been a terrible incident and, I don’t know, it was a Saturday morning and the editor came in with a terrible hangover and he was singing an Irish song and he’d lost his glasses and he was carrying his shoes in his hand, you see, the editor. And I knew this would be quite a morning. But anyway I was trying to draw about this very difficult subject and I got engrossed and tangled in it and the deadline was ticking away and, anyway, I just then drew a duck. I drew a duck. It appeared. You see, I was stuck. I couldn’t go on. I didn’t know where to go forward. The duck appeared in my mind or came off the end of my pen and then I put a fella sitting on the duck and then I drew a teapot on his head. It was an act of defiance. I was being absurd, you see, because I couldn’t untangle this terrible Vietnam tragedy and I drew this thing and I walked up to the editor, plonked it on his desk and he kind of looked at it and scratched his head and he said, “Well I don’t understand that, but I sort of like it, you know and there’s no time to do another one.” So in it went, you see.
I felt maybe society lacked, you know, some enchanting quality, little mysteries and little poetic elements sort of stuff. Maybe that’s what I felt. I wanted to put that there. And there was this little space in the paper, you know, it’s that big. It’s like a little stage. I thought it’s a little stage and I can put little actors on it and things and why should I restrict this to these boring politicians? Why can’t I put pixies and fairies and ducks and all those embarrassing things, the things that are deeply embarrassing to the grown-up, intelligent adults.