I am grateful, too, to the writers, scholars all, who responded so readily to invitations to contribute to this Stead supplement. Ron Geering, a close personal friend of Christina and a committed critic of her work, has written a personal reminiscence, Don Anderson provides some comments on A Christina Stead Reader, first published in 1979, Laurie Clancy writes illuminatingly on the later novels, and Helen Thomson provides a useful bibliography of the publishing history of Stead’s novels and collected stories. As a sidelight to that listing, Stead fans will be pleased to learn that her early novel, The Beauties and the Furies, will be published in Australia in September by Virago.

I had not expected to write anything myself for this supplement because my acquaintance with Christina has little of the literary about it; we became firm friends through a shared addiction to the music of Mozart. However, an article which appeared in a recent issue of the Sydney Morning Herald presented a view of Christina the person which is so much at odds with the lady I know that it has provoked me to rebuttal lest it be believed by the innocent.

During the several years we shared a house in Melbourne. Christina entertained a steady stream of visitors which included, as well as friends and other writers, academics, students, journalists, and reporters. She gave of herself and her time without regard for her work or her health. Later. in Canberra her easy accessibility to callers of all kinds began to take a very serious toll on her health, which has been less than robust for many years now. Her many friends are much relieved that she has come to see that she must take better care of herself, conserve her energies, and live more quietly than hitherto. We hope to have her around for many years yet. And we believe that, having achieved the splendid age of eighty, she is entitled to some privacy.

Imagine my reaction, then, on reading this: ‘Stead is the Greta Garbo of Australian literary circles, few people know of her movements, an interview or word from her is as rare as a swallow from China.’ And this from a reporter who admitted being granted the third telephone interview in a week! Christina is a woman of imperturbable dignity and immense charm, of overwhelming generosity and abiding affections. She likes people, enjoys company, has an infectious spirit of fun and an enviable capacity for making friends among people of all ages and kinds. Greta Garbo indeed!

Equally fatuous is the claim that ‘the writer shuns the press and pleads her terror like a creature caught and scrutinised by brusque hands’. It is my understanding that a special interview with a member of the press is to take place within a few days of my writing this and will be published simultaneously in the Melbourne Age and the Sydney Morning Herald on Christina’s birthday. Apart from being wrong in fact, this piece of silliness imputes a kind of character to Christina Stead which those who know her must find ludicrous in the extreme. It is as impossible to image her ‘in terror’ of another human being as it is to conceive of her as an eccentric recluse in the manner of Garbo.

She is also ‘said to be acerbic baffling and prickly to reporters’ which would be understandable if true, though in my experience it is not, and that reporters should find her so suggests some fundamental difference between them and other human bipeds I dare not speculate on.

Dear Christina, I do not mean to castigate those who know no better, but to take some small part in honouring and celebrating your eightieth birthday. Had I your good nature I would remain unruffled by nonsense in newspapers. As it is, I know you will forgive my display of ill temper and know what inspired it.

ABR wishes you good health, long life, and very many happy returns of the day, wishes most heartily endorsed by

Your most affectionate and devoted friend,

Mary Lord