Continuum: The Australian Journal of Media & Culture
Vol. 2, No. 2, 1989
Performance Theory Australia
Edited by Brian Shoesmith & Tom O'Regan

New and strange ways: the radio broadcasts of Irene Greenwood

John Richardson


This paper examines a number of radio scripts written by West Australian women's activist, Irene Adelaide Greenwood, during the mid-1930s through to the mid-1950s. It explores some relationships between the social and political conditions of the period and the production of Greenwood's texts. Absent from the paper is a discussion of the radio institutions of the day with respect to the part which these may have played in the formation of broadcast material. This has been dealt with by others elsewhere. [1]

Given Greenwood's particular area of political involvement, her scripts inevitably connect with the histories of the early twentieth century women's movement. [2] In discussing these histories, as written by Greenwood and others, it is not my intention to evaluate, judge or criticise the aims of the movement, nor to position the movement as a socially progressive force or otherwise. But simply to examine the relationship between this aspect of the political field and the construction of a particular body of texts.

In the period 1936-1954 Irene Adelaide Greenwood set herself the task of sketching out the blueprint of a possible society and appending the instructions on how it would be built. As a committed feminist Greenwood took as her starting point the objectives of the West Australian Women's movement. Her finished product would be a utopian vision in which early feminist aims had been realised, of so much Greenwood was sure. Like all programatic aims, historical and contemporary, those of the women's movement were read through the system of power relations, and associated beliefs, which were in play during a particular historical period. Of this field Greenwood had less control.

As a radio broadcaster operating from within the women's sessions Greenwood was well placed to act as a propagandist for the women's movement. In historical circumstances which encouraged both national and commercial broadcasters to play their politics safe Greenwood trod the tightrope of institutional legitimacy with considerable skill. Her broadcasts were always political in orientation, and consciously so. But the relations of the period could not help but leave their imprint on Greenwood's scripts in other less calculated ways. The reflexive adaptation of early feminist beliefs formed the generating aesthetic of the broadcasts. It is as much from the structuring effect of this aesthetic, as from the more overt political message of Greenwood's scripts, that some of the social concerns of the period can be read.

What follows here is an attempt to understand this body of broadcasts by referring to the histories which surround them. These, however, are already themselves a construction, a fabrication of contemporary and historical analysis which is speculative rather than definitive in its characteristics. To read the scripts directly through such a composition would be to pour them into a pre-existing mould, thus denying their force as an instrument of speculation in their own right. Hence, the starting point must be the scripts themselves and the route to follow will be that which reaches out to interact with other writings of, or on, the period.

During the mid-1930s Greenwood began to broadcast a number of "travel adventures". These, she told her listeners, were based on the real-life exploits of contemporary travel writers. They described a journey undertaken by a heroine to some exotic location. After enduring considerable hardships and overcoming a range of barriers placed in her path the heroine would reach her destination (her destiny). Here, she would discover an idealised society and a land of plenty.

The figure rarely appeared in its completed form. Most scripts focussed on one or another of its themes at the expense of others. A script in which a relatively completed quest appears will first be examined followed by a discussion of the components as they evolved in the body of Greenwood's work during different historical phases.

Greenwood's Utopian Paradigm: Women of the Soviet Arctic

"Women of the Soviet Arctic" [3] is the story of the, "... Soviet men and women [who] have been conquering the Arctic with the aid of science". This single sentence describes the dynamic of Greenwood's project. The raw topography (nature, the Arctic) is juxtaposed with the tool of transformation (science) and the colonists (men and women). Their efforts will result in a form of nature which supports a particularly equalised culture (conquest). What follows is a movement from the general to the particular propelled by themes of Greenwood's formula.

As the introduction continues science in the abstract is converted into the technology and inventions which assist the colonists in their task - "ice breakers", "flying ships" (sea planes), "the latest equipment" and so forth. Greenwood completes her introduction by foreshadowing the theme of the journey:

Now although every school child in the Soviet has followed the work of the Northern Sea Route Administration, and speaks of its leader, Professor Otto Schmidt and his colleagues as "Heroes of the Arctic", it was a young woman journalist who first told the outside world of the everyday lives of the men and women who man these Arctic stations. She is Ruth Gruber...

The voyage of discovery has already been made, the traveller has returned. This establishes Greenwood's warrant. Gruber's report can now be legitimately relayed to the listeners via the mediation of Greenwood's script.

Before retracing Gruber's tracks, Greenwood elaborates on the nature of the quest, its raison-d'etre. Gruber's mission is, " go abroad and study the problems facing women under the differing political systems of fascism, communism, and democracy". Fascism and democracy (capitalism) are summarily dealt with. The Nazis have removed Gruber from her lecturing position at the University of Cologne. On her return to America, in the grips of the depression, she finds that "professional women [are] almost as unwelcome as in Germany".

The scene is set for the success of communism to reflect back on the failures of fascism and capitalism. Greenwood has levered to the surface the force which underpins all utopian constructions - their invitation to compare the reader/listener's own reality with that of an idyllic projection. It is a comparison designed to expose the flaws in the listeners' current social arrangements.

The journey is never easy. A variety of obstacles are placed between the traveller and her destination. Here, science becomes an aid with which the explorer overcomes the difficulties which she is pitted against. In the case of Ella Maillart, the heroine of an earlier script:

After many disappointments she fell in with a party of four scientists leaving for the very part of Asia she ached to see - the high plains of Kirghistan - and they agreed to take her. [4]

Gruber's Arctic will be a landscape which has been "transformed", so much has been made clear in Greenwood's introduction. In this script the (raw) Arctic is represented as a barren "naturally" inhospitable wasteland. Its conquest will be her supreme example of the figure of transformation - to be challenged only by Mrs Rosita Forbes' mapping of the Sahara desert. [5] But "change" was not always figured as "transformation". In some scripts change was represented as the re-discovery of a mysterious lost nature. In these parables the traveller herself often belongs to a branch of the sciences, like botanist Miss Isobel Hutchinson, whose initial quest was undertaken in the name of "research":

She explains her constant returnings to the Arctic lands in these words - "I had heard the call of the wild on star-lit nights under the Northern Lights; I had slept in a snow hut; I had broken a new trail - and my heart beats for the wilderness". [6]

Nature cannot help but be re-worked during the course of the journey. Hutchinson "breaks a new trail", builds, "a snow hut" . Yet in this instance, nature remains "the wilderness" - a wilderness which is supportive of, rather than antagonistic to the heroine. Both nature transformed and nature re-discovered are in affinity with "woman".

The Arctic is the raw material par excellence of Greenwood's scheme - the twin "poles" of her "new and strange" nature. It is, in Gruber's case, reworked into plenitude and, in Hutchinson's, re-discovered as wilderness. There is no essential difference. The difference is between this future-past and Greenwood's present. The distance to the pole, either forward or back, is the measure of nature's loss in the present.

Initially Gruber is confronted with a bureaucratic, rather than an environmental hazard - no Western citizen had previously gained access to the Soviet Arctic. To help overcome this hurdle she is supplied with a letter of introduction from the American Arctic explorer, Stefanson. Stefanson's letter gains her an interview with Professor Otto Schmidt, leader of the North Sea Route Administration and himself a scientist.

The letter of introduction is a pass-key found elsewhere in Greenwood's scripts. Miss Freya Stark, for instance, travels to Arabia "armed with official letters to open all doors". 7 The letter performs the function of the "magical agent", a talisman which in Vladimir Propp's analysis of folk narrative assists the hero to accomplish his task. Propp's heroes are also engaged in a quest, crusade or journey. 8

Gruber uses her talisman to good effect:

... this letter was the open sesame which took her past the closed doors (closed to other foreign journalists) of Dr Otto Schmidt in Moscow, for, next to Stalin, he was the man everyone most wanted to meet and interview.

In Propp's scheme the "magic agent" - in this case a letter passed from one scientist to another (Stefanson to Schmidt) - conceals a donor. The donor is the pivotal element of the story, that which facilitates the shift to an altered state of social equilibrium and makes the story itself tellable. 9

In Greenwood's narrative the donor is science, synecdochically represented by the personae of Stefanson and Schmidt. Schmidt unlocks the second closed door, that guarding the secrets of the Soviet Arctic. It is here that Gruber will find her utopia. Schmidt points Gruber towards her destination, telling her,

We want to open new land, to build cities, to find gold.... And, (pointing to a huge wall map) here are polar stations where women are wireless operators, meteorologists. Here is Agarka [sic]. Today it is a thriving lumber town. Five years ago there was nothing but tundra. And the leader of Igarka is a woman.

The map is a symbol of the super-imposition of science upon nature, [10] it becomes a thematic object denoting the triumph of science. The heroine's journey traces out the contours of the map, either a-fresh, or, as in the case of Mrs Rosita Forbes, for the first time. In doing so, the explorer becomes the scientist:

Her other love was for maps....The curly red lines across African deserts had the fascination of a magnet for her and she used to hope that the explorers who were writing their names over the few blank spaces left on maps would leave just one small desert for her - a hope which was amply realised in later life. [11]

A number of similar images appear in Greenwood's scripts. Of these the most privileged of all is the aeroplane. The aeroplane, a heavily recurring image, performs a dual function. It is both a physical tool which conquers the natural terrain and an overarching symbol of the power of science. In 1950 Greenwood described her first sighting of a jet plane. The text is laden with pleasure:

And when the Vampire Jet came roaring out of the sky to bank and soar and whizz by standing on its side, with a roar that shattered the air behind it, every single spectator held his breath in startled incredulity. It was gone almost before you could see it, and you heard it only after it passed. [12]

When Gruber resumes her journey she flies. Like Paulina Ossipenko who, in a previous script, had established a record for flight in a straight line, Gruber inscribes her own line on the landscape. [l3] Again it is the mark of science on nature. Distance, time and terrain are vanquished:

She flew from Moscow to Krasnoyarsk, a distance as great as the whole breadth of the United States, and this was but her starting point down the Yenesei River by launch (though up on the map) to Molokov Island, which is the sea-plane base for the Arctic. She did the last lap of 815 miles in a modern white Donier flying boat in 8 hours. What had taken dog sledges 40 days, and now took a river boat 6 to 8 days, she did in as many hours...[Greenwood's emphasis]

For Greenwood, as much for the characters in her story, time was of the essence. At Igarka, "there was so much to do and time marched on so swiftly".

With the voyage completed Greenwood takes up the hitherto neglected component of "industry". Science alone is not enough to complete the transformation from wasteland to utopia. Science must be complemented by collective effort. At Igarka Gruber found "a city which never slept". On the wharf "ships were loaded all 24 hours of the day".

As will be seen, Greenwood's heroines were never passive observers. Just as Gruber, in her conquest of the terrain during the course of her journey performed the function of scientist, she now joins the industrial push. Her vantage point is from within, assisting in the transformation "Here she met all the people, lived among them, and, because everyone else worked, accepted a job on the local newspaper...".

The fruits of women's labour can now be picked. The Arctic has been conquered. But conquest does not rob the Arctic of its "nature", on the contrary, it liberates it. Only now can "nature" realise its full potential. Only now can the Arctic become "fertile". Fertility is injected into nature by the "womanly" yet strangely androgynous figure of Chief Scientist Marie Krenikova: "it was her job to make the Arctic fertile, to grow vegetables and fruit and grain to feed the population" . The results are spectacular:

Everything was free, transportation to Leningrad and back (at the end of two years service) food, clothes, cigarettes, books, radio communications with friends, and salaries were doubled and sometimes trebled while they were away in the Arctic, and then they went down to the Crimea and lived in the sun for two months holiday, and, as often as not begged to be allowed to go back to the Arctic.

"Everything was free". The values of the listeners present are called into question. Greenwood goes on to put the point more explicitly: "When Dr Gruber offered money for a fur coat, they stared at her in amazement and then in pity. She had found a world of new values". The new values are egalitarian values, the quest has been fulfilled, and as a by-product the capitalist mode of exchange has fallen. But the "fur coat" is more than the object of exchange, more, even in the Arctic, than a necessary article of protective clothing. It is a signifier of "femininity" which is taken up in Greenwood's description of "the pretty 19 year old wireless operator":

She was small slender, fair with soft skin and a low cultivated voice. She wore her fur coat with an air which could compare favourably with any woman in Europe for feminine charm and grooming.

"Femininity" is a common attribute of the Greenwood heroine. The heroine is, like Miss Pauline Gower, "very lovely, very feminine, and still (to confound the critics) very capable". [14] She is, like Mrs Mardi Gething, "very small and vivacious...hard to picture at the controls of giant bombers". 15 Or, like Valentina Orlikova, "who, in her officer's uniform presented a picture of tailored perfection combined with womanly beauty...positively the most lovely creature (from photographs) that I've ever seen". l6 In the terms of the utopian paradigm, "femininity" is on the side of the new nature. For the feminists of the early women's movement the dominant construction of femininity was not on the reform agenda.

Yet at Igarka femininity is brought under severe pressure. As Schmidt had foretold, the leader of the colony, Valentina Ostro-umova, was indeed a woman. But at the very moment when woman ascends to the pinnacle of the hierarchy, and renounces her prescribed role, femininity falls away:

She wore the navy blue jacket and navel cap of the officers of the Northern Sea Route Administration, and a white shirt blouse and tie with a long navy skirt, and so drew no attention to the fact that she was a woman. Her hair was cut short like a man's. She was thin and angular, in her early forties, with a strong face with high cheek bones and piercing eyes. ... Dr Gruber ran into her often but always felt that the woman was eliminated in the capable official.

The Heroine

The role of the heroine in Greenwood's plan was of paramount importance. The heroine traversed the landscape working on nature or discovering it anew. The heroine was a leader who, by her tireless efforts, set the example for others to follow. She was neither a character in the fiction nor a fictional character. Unlike the characters of fiction, she was not the receptacle of psychological traits which invite an identification by the reader/listener "within" the text. But, rather, a composite of the values required for the fulfilment of her task. She was, like Ruth Gruber, plucked from the plane of "fact" and deposited in the world of "fiction". But if Greenwood's heroines were "factual" they were exceptional in every respect.

Dr Ruth Gruber of "The Soviet Arctic", "had caused quite a sensation in her own country of America by becoming the youngest Doctor of Philosophy in the world, man or woman, at the age of 20". This was not the only qualification bestowed on Gruber, but unlike "education", the value of "science" was not given a priori. It was not a quality which she possessed independently of her quest. The narrative allows Gruber to appropriate "science" during the course of her adventure. Nor was science the possession of Gruber alone. This, like "leadership", was distributed among other actors in the story. In keeping with the socialist nature of the product "The Soviet Arctic" had several heroines, each of them the bearer of at least one essential value. On occasions when the heroine played a more individual role in the transformation/re-discovery, it became necessary to prime her with a plenitude of talents. This operation often drove the text into a frenzy of excess. Consider, for instance, the case of Ella Maillart, a heroine who, in words attributed to co-traveller Peter Flemming, "often proved the better man of the two":

Ella Maillart is Swiss, an expert swimmer, yachtswoman and shi-er [sic]. When she was 21 she represented Switzerland at the Olympic Games in Paris in 1924 - the only woman against 17 contestants from other countries. For four years running...she represented her country at the International Shi-ing [sic] Federation in Italy, Austria and Switzerland. She founded the first women's hockey Club at Geneva and played as Captain against France.... [S]he also taught French in English schools and English to private pupils in Berlin, became a stenographer in Paris and was a winter sports correspondent for a Geneva newspaper. In addition to sailing a yacht and yawl around Europe and across the Mediterranean, she did six months archaeological work in Crete and acted in a film made in the Swiss Alps. Finally, in 1930 she went to Moscow to study the youth movement there...". [17]

Maillart's outlook is broadly international. She traverses nature in a variety of ways (skier, sailor, swimmer). As an archaeologist she works the land to re-discover a lost culture. As Olympian and captain of her country's hockey team she is a leader. She has the feminine attributes associated with a film star. She is also, like Gruber, an educator and journalist.

Moments of excess such as this expose the fibres from which the heroine is composed. The same strands recur throughout Greenwood's opus. They take on different guises but in the end connote the same values. They are extracted from the general ideological field, re-modelled to suit the narrative and congealed in the figure of the heroine.

The heroine was seldom Australian. Or if she was she would be living and working overseas. She could be European or American but was usually British or Russian. Her culture was the culture of "The Great Elsewhere". If British she would be a member of the bourgeoisie or aristocracy, such as The Marchioness of Reading, "one of the most travelled, brilliant, truly cultured and handsome women in public life in England today"; Miss Bette Gibbs, "(daughter of Sir Harold Snagge)"; Lady Chalmondely, "(pronounced Chumley)"; or Miss Katherine Trefusis-Forbes who, "recently left England on a tour of Canada, Africa and the Middle East". l3 Her class status was enough to connote "leadership" . But class inequality was neutralised by her involvement in a project which was for the social good. The Duchess of Atholl, for instance,

has always laboured to see that children receive the best that she can help to obtain for them whether education or milk and other food, living conditions or anything at all in fact which she as a member of the government has any control over. [l9]

In the scripts which departed from the travel genre the figure of transformation was the dynamic which governed the heroine's project. Nature now became the Western social system. The project was always of direct relevance to the aims of the women's movement. Its successful conclusion again resulted in egalitarian conditions, with a special emphasis on a specific reading of sexual equality. The project replaced the figure of the journey, its fulfilment would lead to utopian social conditions.

The Soviet heroine was no less a leader, no less elevated in the hierarchy and no less involved in a social project than her British counterpart. Her project would be aimed at producing a more advanced stage in the transformational process, or, in the wartime scripts, recouping lost ground. Thus, Tatiana Aetemeva, who set about restoring her collective farm after the Nazis had razed it to the ground, was elected chairman of the local Soviet 20 Olga Lepeshinska, the best ballerina in Russia, social worker and good wife and mother, was the recipient of the Stalin prize, "the highest award an artist can get" 21 Valentina Grizodubova, who commanded a squadron of four engined heavy bombers, and was Chairman of the Women's Anti-Fascist Committee, wore on her breast

the Red Star of the Soviet, Hero of the Soviet, Order of the Red Banner and Order of Lenin and also a little enamel flag which shows her to be a member of the Supreme Soviet. [22]

The heroine had a high education and in one way or another was an educator herself. If British she would often be a product of "Oxbridge", where she would have achieved outstanding results. For instance, The Hon. Camilla Wedgwood with double first class honours (Cambridge), holding a tripos for Old English, Old Norse, Archaeology and Anthropology. Wedgewood also lectured at the London School of Economics. 23 Often the heroine's qualifications as an educator would be reinforced by claims of authorship. They frequently wrote books or newspaper articles. Soviet women were engrossed in their studies or had passed exams with high honours. 24

She would be a pioneer. She would have cleared the ground for others to follow. When the heroine was not a traveller-adventurer her activities would usually be of a political or scientific nature. Politicians included the Viscountess Rhonda, "who for close on thirty years has been making efforts for peeresses to sit in the House of Lords" and Miss Florence Hornesbrough, "Who last November made history by moving the House of Commons Address-in-reply to the King's Speech". Parliamentary democracy was among the routes to utopia.

Science, by its very nature, was a pioneering activity. It was the tool which pushed back the frontiers, broke new ground. The effect was amplified by women's participation in it:

there will be a place for women in the scientific field after the war, in the opinion of Dr Katherine Burr-Blodgett, who is the discoverer of nonreflective glass, commonly called "invisible glass". She has pioneered a way for them. [25]

The accomplishment of the mission demanded a woman of considerable courage. The war provided the backdrop with which to emphasise this and for a time the defeat of fascism was itself a sufficient project. The heroine was bombed, blitzed and strafed but she could dish it out as well as take it. Ludmilla Pavlichenko was a sniper with a score of 309 Nazis to her credit. [26] Maria Sinkova was a machine gunner "who died with more than thirty dead Germans strewn near her post. Here the enemy did not pass". 27 Before and after the War acts of extreme valour were less frequent but not altogether absent. In 1953, for instance, Mrs Harry Bonney won an MBE for exploits in a small Gypsy Moth plane and shot the Rio Grande rapids on a bamboo raft. 28

It was not strictly necessary for each heroine to possess each and every value - although many came remarkably close. The heroine was prefigured from Greenwood's concept of "an ideal type". They were selected on the basis of their compatibility the ideal and shoe-horned into the mould. Inevitably there was some degree of "spillage". The credentials of the heroine were established in no single script, but in a process of endless repetition with some variation throughout the body of Greenwood's broadcasts.

The deployment of the "ideal type" in a documentary format was not unique to Greenwood. Similar strategies were used by John Grierson who headed documentary film units in Britain and Canada during the 1930s and 1940s. The films which Grierson's organisations made portrayed a variety of industrial workers from an idealist rather than a realist perspective. In essence his subjects were idealised workers performing idealised work. It was a legitimate and legible trope of the day. Grierson's approach was not only similar to that of Greenwood's, it was motivated by the same philosophies and towards the same ends. According to Peter Morris, Grierson shared Walter Lipmann's view that, rather than acting rationally, people "submit unconsciously to the desires of the mind". 29 The masses could be manipulated through symbols, otherwise called, "the pictures in our heads". 30 Lipmann and Grierson were neo-conservatives but the principles expressed here are not too different from the cultural didacticism practised by the ABC where Greenwood worked for the best part of her broadcasting career.

The heroine, then, is not a character in the strict sense. She is a conglomerate of the values required for the fulfilment of a particular task. Her formation is governed by an assumed set of reading practices. She is formed discursively to reflect the system of educators and pupils, leaders and led, which was a feature of the period and adopted by both the ABC and the women's movement. She is an expert. She possesses a formidable array of talents which few listeners could hope to match. Her relationship with the listener is not one of identification but one of example. It is from this vantage point that the listener reads of the heroine's cherished beliefs, follows her journey or is told of her project.

Sometimes the project takes the form of a journey of discovery, at others it is embodied in a more recognisable social program. In either event it takes place "Elsewhere". At the heart of the project is the transformation, or the re-discovery of nature. The heroine is equipped with the major tools and talents for the fulfilment of her task. But she cannot accomplish it alone. If utopia was to be built then her example must be followed by the listening masses.


Greenwood's vision of utopia evolved in relation to the changing political pressures and institutional constraints of the period. Her prototype may have been a response to the theosophical teachings which were so influential among the West Australian branches of the early women's movement. In Perth the Theosophical Order of Service was largely responsible for founding the Women's Service Guilds in which Greenwood was to hold an executive office. The list of prominent feminists with Theosophical connections included Mary Anne Driver, Greenwood's mother. Theosophy embraced aspects of Hinduism, Buddhism and Mysticism, an unusual canon for the middle class members of the Perth women's movement but what probably attracted them to the religion was its doctrine of sexual equality.

According to Jill Roe, Madame Helena Petrovna Blavatsky, one of the Society's co-founders, claimed that living masters "located in the recesses of Thibet" [sic] helped her to write her seminal Theosophical text, Isis Unveiled. [31] There could have been no more appropriate figure than Isis as the patron of Greenwood's scheme. She was the Goddess of, "childbirth, of fertility, of sailors, life and magic". [32]

In 1936 Greenwood publicised the egalitarian nature of the Tibetan religious order:

While practically every organised religion in the world does not admit women to the higher orders, there is in Tibet one notable exception - the Dorge Phagmo. She is the head of a famous monastery at Samding the residence of fifty monks She is considered as holy as the Tashi and Dali Lamas, and she travels to Lahs, once every two or three years. An escort of Lamas from the Polala is sent to meet her as in the case of the ruling Lamas. She is the only woman in Tibet whom the strict sumptuary laws allow to wear a palanquin. [33]

The Tibetan imagery of this script resurfaced throughout the 1930s. It was eventually integrated into a mise-en-scene of fantastic splendour:

The royal household was decked with rich embroideries and brocades of beautiful workmanship, drinking vessels, carvings and other things which told her of an old culture. There were pictures of a strange land of snow-topped mountains and hot springs, of waterfalls and lakes, and this called her to go and see for herself. [34]

In the margin of the text cited above Greenwood has jotted, "Changrila [sic] Lost Horizon". This is almost certainly a reference to either, James Hilton's book, [35] or Frank Capra's film of the book[ 36] Lost Horizon. If Greenwood's text is not an indirect citation from one or the other of these (both works of utopian fiction) she was at least aware of the coincidence between their imagery and that which she attributes to her heroine, Madam Alexandra David-Neel.

For Greenwood, the supposed distinction between "fact" and "fiction" was unimportant. Was it "fact" that Miss Ursula Grayham-Bower alone held the North Cacher hills against the Japanese Army? 37 Or that Katia Delavic, after receiving mortal wounds to the breast and leg, knocked out a Nazi blockhouse? 38 In the end it didn't matter. All that mattered for Greenwood was that her imagery could be legitimately represented and read as "fact" within the terms of her formula. She selected her material from wherever she could find it. Only after 1939 did these selections become more systematic.

In the meantime "Shangri-La" was superimposed on a variety of locations. These, like Hilton's original, were surrounded by high mountains and extremely difficult to penetrate. Turkestan, the object of Ella Maillart's quest, "is surrounded on three sides by walls of mountains 20,000 feet high". 39 Similarly, Greenwood cited Linda Littlejohn as saying

I am flying both ways. I am looking forward immensely to seeing Dubrovnik - it is an ancient walled maritime city on the Dalmatian sea with the mountains rising sheer behind it, and I am told that the women there are very tall and handsome. [40]

The walls and mountains were barriers to be overcome by the explorer. But like the elaborate earthworks of Campanella's "City of the Sun",[41] they also protected the inhabitants from the ravages of the dystopian society without. Mountains, or similar lines of defence, were the borderline between civilization and chaos:

This small kingdom is very wealthy, its products are rubber, gold, silver, tobacco, rice and other typical tropical products and it exports much oil. Chinese and Javanese merchants sell and barter their wares in the town, but in the interior the natives are but a step removed from their headhunting ancestors who were adept at blowing deadly poison darts. [42]

Utopia existed in reality. It could be named. Greenwood's models were represented as belonging to the plane of "fact". They were held to be either already in existence or currently under construction in some exotic and remote elsewhere. Utopian conditions had been achieved in some far off country which could be anywhere else but Australia. The exception to this rule was a series of short wave scripts produced for the Department of Information in the early 1940s. In October 1940 Greenwood told Charles Hartley Gratton that "[Australian] rural conditions, with a few exceptions, are deplorable and primitive". [43] Three months later she told her short wave listeners:

Life is happy, serene and secure for the women whose lot it is to be the wife of a timber worker in the small mill town of Pemberton. There are all the ingredients to make it as near perfection as anything can be in this imperfect world - a healthy climate, rich soil, abundance of fresh food surroundings of unsurpassed beauty, and well planned conditions of labour and leisure. [44]

These broadcasts, however, were aimed at audiences in America and the Pacific region as part of the wartime propaganda campaign. Utopia was always other than the listener's home.

If the otherness of the product (or anticipated product) allowed it to reflect back on the here and now in criticism, its apparent tangibility made the criticism all the more relevant. Utopia's culture was something to strive for, to appropriate, to bring home. But Greenwood's call was not beyond the imagination of the West Australian community of the day. Geographically isolated from the cultural centres of its own country the West had not disposed of its psychological attachment to the capitals of Europe, and in particular the U.K. For the West, this "Great Elsewhere" was already the fountainhead of culture and ideas, these to be modified and inscribed at home. Thus, the pattern advocated by Greenwood was already a part of the West Australian heritage. It was along this established plane that Greenwood made her appeal. Her utopian cultural models, however, often outreached the boundaries of Europe and Britain.

A geographical and cultural remoteness was one criterion which determined utopia's location. The other was its confirmation of the objectives of the women's movement. Wherever utopia was, it was in a place where some, if not all, of these objectives had been realised. Realisation automatically led to an order of plenitude, or "sanity". With the ingenuity of science "sanity" could be exported:

"Forty glad years...of peace and plenty....sanity". What a ring those words have for us today when the great ideas which lie behind them are, or seem to be, so remote from the other countries of Europe as to be quite utopian - something visionary, to be desired but seemingly, so seldom attained. Yet Holland's Queen can claim them on the occasion of her Jubilee. It prompts the thought that it is a pity some Dutch scientist doesn't alienate this germ of "sanity" and go out and inoculate some of the statesmen of other nations so that they might bring peace and plenty to their lands too! [Greenwood's ellipses] [45]

During the 1940s the quest, in its thematic guise of a journey of discovery, became less frequent. "Women of the Soviet Arctic" is perhaps the last, script of the period in which the journey appeared. The journey was completed. A definitive utopia had been discovered. It was that of the USSR:

On that day 26 years ago, the people took power into their own hands and began to rule their own destinies. Then came the birth of a new society...visualised, planned, organised to serve the needs of mankind .... This young society grew, painfully at first, then by five year spurts, to be the vigorous, valiant nation that is today our ally [the first ellipsis is Greenwood's]. [46]

The Soviet utopia incorporated all of the traits which had previously been scattered across a range of different locations. It was guarded, not by mountains, but by "a fog of obscurity" blown in from the dystopian hinterland. It was characterised as much by process as by results. Greenwood's Soviet model, like The Modern Utopia of H.G. Wells, [47] was in a stage of transformation to a greater state of order (in five year spurts). Order was achieved by organisation, planning and a huge social effort. Like all fictional utopias it was neat, tidy and symmetrical. It was futuristic, employing the most modern of scientific inventions. Science had been taken from the lab and was at work in the cities and pastures:

This collective farm has its own hydro-electric power plant, and a machine tractor station. Everything possible will be installed to lighten labour and increase productivity. The new village will not be like the old (an inconvenient single row of houses) but will be well planned, radiating from the civic centre set around a green park with trees, with curving paths following the contours of the country side. [48]

Finally, and most importantly, the Soviet model was egalitarian. Here, sexual equality was safeguarded by Article 122 of the 1936 Soviet constitution. It may well have been this document which encouraged significant numbers of Perth women to support the communist or allegedly communist inspired women's organisations during the inter-war period and after:

The Soviet woman is self reliant and strong and efficient, both comrade and companion to her man.... Yet, engrossed though she has been in her study, and winning her way in her job, she also has time to be a good wife and mother.... The constitution guarantees her the right to work, at equal rates of pay to men...and provides her with a wide range of maternity homes, nurseries and kindergartens. [49]

The Soviet woman had achieved many of the objectives of the West Australian women's movement. She had penetrated the work force but significantly, and unlike the "mannish" Valentina Ostro-umova of the "Soviet Arctic", she had done it without relinquishing what Katharine Susannah Prichard was later to describe as "the sacred function of women" [50] - women's gendered role as "a good wife and mother."

But if the ideal society had at last been discovered its legitimacy was relatively short lived. After 1946, as the Cold War gathered momentum, Soviet imagery progressively disappeared from Greenwood's scripts. The theme of the journey correspondingly re-surfaced as she and her heroines took up the search for alternative models. The net was cast wide. New examples were drawn from "fact" and "fiction". Old heroines were reemployed, old imagery re-surfaced, the listeners were consulted. On 7th of September 1950 Greenwood invited her audiences to respond to the topic, "Are There Other Worlds Than This?"

The exploits of anthropologist Margaret Mead, first cited in 1938, 51 were taken up again in the 1950s. Mead was certainly no advocate of communism but her quest ran parallel to that of Greenwood's in other ways. Mead's prodigious output was not confined to scholastic publications, her writings also appeared in a wide range of popular magazines. Like Greenwood, she was intent on demonstrating that an alternative "natural" role was possible for Western women. Her quest involved the re-discovery of "primitive" societies in which these alternative gender roles already existed. In 1957, Mead argued the case for a more vivid view of utopia as an inspiration for future social orders. 52 Greenwood's "Meadian" utopias included the Cook Islands, whose chieftain, Makea Arika, was a woman. 53

In 1950 Israel was cited as "the re-creation of an old land by new settlers, who in the remaking of a country have also re-made themselves as a people". 54 This was perhaps the most convincing of Greenwood's late utopias but the Israeli example was not pursued to the extent of her 1940s Soviet model. Only there was Greenwood able to draw together the disparate strands of the figure and convincingly locate them in a single "material" entity. At times the material utopia faded to leave little more than its abstract themes. Novelist Frank Yerby's heroine, "Fancy", for instance, made

a journey by foot that took her by a long trail, out of Carolina and into Georgia, out of one life and into another, out of the past and into a new world centuries advanced from the circumscribed existence of the hills people. [55]

By 1953 Greenwood's utopia had come full circle. Eleanor Bor trod the well beaten trail "from India's burning plains to the high plateaux of Tibet that lie beyond the Himalays in the West far away to the Chinese borders beyond the high mountains of Assam". [56] The moment of realisation had past. All that remained was the eternal quest.

Bringing Utopia Home

The early 1940s presented Greenwood with her ideal social model, and the political climate allowed her to tell of it. The period also provided the practical means of rebuilding utopia on home shores. It seemed, for a time, as if the necessary conditions for the construction of Greenwood's vision had at last materialised. Paradoxically, it was her worst enemy - war - that brought Greenwood's elusive goal almost within her grasp. But like the figured inhospitality of Gruber's (raw) Arctic, the war-time conditions could be turned to the teaching of "new and strange ways". The drive for victory at arms had resulted in social cohesion on the grand scale. The reserves of labour and industry, previously oriented towards private profit, were now directed towards a single goal. The push had increased the numbers of women in the work force, and in military or para-military organisations. In the terms of the women's movement, women were at last making an impact on the public sphere. The war had also motivated a great acceleration of scientific discovery. By 1946 the atom bomb stood as the motif of a science whose power knew no bounds. The "War Effort" was practically the figure of Greenwood's socialism by another name. With the apparatus of transformation already in place all that was required was a reorientation towards future peace time targets. Greenwood took the initiative. Utopia was brought home.

Just imagine the colossal machine of war turned to peace time purposes. Bulldozers tearing out dams and reservoirs, cutting roads through and over mountains; blazing the tracks for railways and landing strips for air transports. Factories turning out pre-fabricated houses and all the motors turning to make homes. Mines excavating the earths minerals and metals and fuels needed by the dynamics and diesels of a power age. And, above all, the vast organisation of man-power diverted from the purposes of death and destruction to the tasks of life and construction. What a world it would be. It all sounds so utopian, and yet, why not? Why cannot mankind use the tools welded to meet the crisis of war to carve out a modem civilization. [57]

For the first time the picture of a utopian future was supplemented by a logic of change. Science and industry were previously articulated in abstract forms, or, when they took on the material characteristics of inventions and tireless workers it was in a narrative set in some far off land. But in the mid 1940s, the accoutrements of the "War Effort" were tangible, demonstrable instruments of change. They were already a part of Australia's here and now. The tool of transformation was real and at hand.

As yet the logic was incomplete. Greenwood's mise-en-scene of utopian plenitude was designed to instil a desire for change. The War Effort would provide the practical means. But it had still to be appropriated and reoriented to serve Post-War social ends. This required a directing agency. Greenwood looked to the State to fill the role. The State, however, could not be relied upon to take the necessary steps of its own accord. It would require people of the correct political persuasion in key policy making positions, and preferably within the Commonwealth Government itself.

An advocate of parliamentarianism, Greenwood's relationship with democracy was nevertheless complex. As an ideology, capitalism, as Roland Barthes remarks, has difficulty naming itself. 55 Most frequently it takes on the pseudonym of "democracy". It will be remembered that the object of Ruth Gruber's quest in "Women of the Soviet Arctic" was a comparison of "the differing political systems of fascism, communism and democracy". But if Gruber's findings spoke loudly of the superiority of communism Greenwood held fast to parliamentary democracy as a means of accessing her utopian goal. As a member of the early women's movement, parliamentary democracy was the privileged means by which feminist objectives would be secured. As a radio broadcaster, alternative paths were difficult, if not impossible, to air in the Australian context. Yet Greenwood was well aware of the differences and contradictions between capitalism and democracy. In 1943 she told her listeners that citizenship rights were

nullified by party politics, preselection of candidates, methods of voting, privileges, power of Trusts and Combines and Banks over Parliament itself; but in the last resort these can be overcome by an enlightened public consisting of both men and women voters. [59]

"Enlightening" the voting public was encompassed within Greenwood's project. She appears to have had little faith in the electorate to behave in a politically responsible manner of their own accord. In a letter to Hartley Gratton she pointed out that in Australia there was a, "dislike of politicians as a class yet [a] disinclination to take an active part or an interest in politics". [60] Greenwood cited as an example the need to legislate for compulsory voting.

In 1944, however, it must have seemed to Greenwood as if the final building block in her scheme was about to fall into place. In that year the Labor government announced plans to extend the wartime administration's centralised planning powers into the Post-War period. If ratified by referendum the Constitution Alteration (Post-War Reconstruction and Democratic Rights) Act 1944 would provide the Commonwealth government with power to harness the War Effort to the ends of Post-War reconstruction. It would curtail the monopoly activities of "Trusts Combines and Banks" as well as usher in a range of social reforms. 61 The proposal went to referendum in August. 62 Greenwood campaigned vigorously for the "yes" vote: must be made secure, and this can only come about if the Commonwealth can continue to direct industry and engage in large scale national undertakings. In this way the factories, the equipment, the labour power that have been utilised so efficiently for our war effort, will be diverted to the needs of our civilian population. [63]

The referendum was lost with only Western Australia and South Australia voting in favour.

Only during the late war and immediate Post-War years was Greenwood able to lay out an explicit program for change within the Australian context. With the onset of the Cold War her plan faded into the system of metaphors from which it had briefly emerged. From here, the program for construction, like the finished utopian product, struggled to materialise in the guise of fable or book review. By 1953 the surface of the text had changed dramatically. But the central theme of the (re)construction program - the War Effort and its appropriation for the social good - was still the framework on which her imagery hung. Among the Books of the Week in March 1953 was Lin Yutang's The Widow Chuan:

...a hero comes home from war in modern China, and brings an echo of new and strange ways to a small group of families who are in conflict between the Elder, with his customary adherence to tradition, and the Hero, who has flown in planes and seen a new mode of life.... The war hero muses to himself, "have I changed or has my home changed?" The villagers were ignorant and superstitious, they had no education no knowledge of sanitation, and he came to one conclusion, the village needed a good water supply system. Thus progress comes to the minds of men torn away from homes by war, and thus we can sense, through millions of such individuals as Captain Chuan is China progressing today... [64]


It has been argued that Greenwood's description of her social program conformed with a loose formula. After a long and arduous journey a traveller/heroine discovered an idealised society and/or a land of plenty. The landscape (nature) was either worked on, reconstructed, transformed, or; re-discovered in an untouched but mystical state. Both the act transformation, and the journey of discovery, required considerable effort and the knowledge of scientific endeavour. Science and industry together converted the disorder of the present into the order of a future-past. The quest was not always expressed as a concrete journey. More often it took the shape of a social crusade. At other times the finished utopia failed to materialise. Like a carrot on a stick it remained fractionally out of reach, an object to be quested for in the present and grasped in the future. But whatever the permutation this basic figure with its dynamic of change generated the surface structure of the scripts.

It did so irrespective of the formal mode of presentation. Books were reviewed, interviewees selected, or listener's letters aired depending on their compatibility with the formula. To this extent Greenwood's source material was unimportant. Its function as a pre-text was governed by its degree of fit with the utopian paradigm. Whether newspaper cutting, magazine article, or novel, (all of which Greenwood nominated as the source of her elaborations at one time or another) the criterion for selection was the same. The scripts accredited to the reminiscences of travel writers do, however, merit special consideration.

According to Stuart Cunningham, travel writing (otherwise described as landscape, frontier or descriptive writing) was "unprecedentedly popular" in Australia between the years of 1929 and 1945. [65] A characteristic of this "hybrid genre" was its tendency to juxtapose, "serious argument, sometimes bolstered with authoritative prefaces by scholars or politicians", and, "phantasmagorias of exoticism and the bravado of mock-pioneering adventurism". [66] Or again, travel writing, "oscillated between "reportage" and "sensationalism", "fact and fiction"". [67] The presentation of fantastic scenarios as "documentary facts", the lack of distinction between "fact" and "fiction", is today a part of the "strangeness" of Greenwood's texts. But if, as Cunningham argues, travel writing constituted an adjacent field which opened on to other discourses, the historical listener was armed with the techniques of analysis which made sense of Greenwood's "strangeness". Travel writing provided the template from which Greenwood's texts were read, understood and to some extent constructed.

It may well be that travel writing, with its inbuilt voyage of discovery, is related to the genera of utopian fiction. In any event, by the early 1940s Greenwood had progressed to a formula which more closely resembled that of utopian literature. At this point the journey took a less central role in the narrative. Greenwood's project was (re)structured by the themes common to Utopian literature in general. These themes - the journey, science and its technological inventions, and the colonisation of strange lands - are at their most explicit in works of science fiction. Darko Suvin argues that science fiction is a sub-genera of utopian literature. [68] It should come as no surprise, then, that Greenwood's texts have a thematic similarity with those of Jules Verne, one of the pioneers of science fiction. Pierre Macherey identifies, "the voyage, scientific invention and colonisation", as the major themes of Verne's work. [69] For Greenwood, as for Verne, the themes are a crystallisation of the scattered components of the ideological field into a system suitable for the description of her project. For Verne and other writers of science fiction, the conquest of nature (or more properly its domination [70]) was itself a sufficient project, while for Greenwood it was a means to an end. In Greenwood's scheme the conquest of nature inevitably led to a particular construction of sexual equality. It was this construction which, above all, structured the body of scripts which have been discussed here.

It was the desire to penetrate the public sphere, while simultaneously holding fast to the gendered role of "good wife and mother" in the manner of Greenwood's most esteemed heroines, which defined the early women's movement's reading of sexual equality. Thus the campaigns which most effectively united the diverse strands of the movement were often accompanied by a rhetoric which denounced the object against which they were levelled as a threat to the family structure - campaigns such as those to combat the regulation of prostitution, the use of contraception and, above all, those which championed the cause of "world peace." But the movement was equally strident in its call for expanded opportunities in the work-place and for the general improvement of women's political status.

It was this construction of equality which Greenwood's present, with its insistence on women's "natural" place as the home, but at the expense of the necessary penetration of the public sphere, could not support; Hence, for Greenwood:

There is something very appealing about these little places that are far off the beaten track, where little communities of people live in cooperative societies, and the only enemy to be struggled against is nature. [71]

The project demanded, in Greenwood's words, "the conquest of nature". [72] But for all this, she did not position nature in an unproblematic opposition to culture. In 1946 Greenwood cited Peter Kapitsa as saying, "science must provide the knowledge which is necessary to transform nature in such a way that it will serve man's cultural development". [73] In Greenwood's scheme, the work of science on nature resulted in the multiplication of nature to a higher level - a level that would "serve [wo]man's cultural development" - but, like Isobel Hutchinson's Arctic, it was nature nevertheless. What was being conquered, or transformed, was the nature of Greenwood's present.

Greenwood's utopias could be modelled on "advanced" European societies, "mystical" Asian communities or "primitive" Pacific tribes. The common denominator was the shift to an altered state of nature. Utopia was figured in the present, held hopes for the future but had its roots in the past. In the end Greenwood's new nature was nothing more than the Garden of Eden prior to the Fall. Her quest was the modernist quest for origins.

Greenwood's valorisation of science may well be attributable to its particular role and the changes which it supposedly initiated within the family and home during her lifetime. Kareen Reiger has argued that during the late nineteenth century, capitalism produced a "class" of professionals, administrators and technicians, whose skills were brought to bear on the family and home. These professionals introduced atechnical rationality" into the private sphere, manifested by growth areas such as domestic science, gynaecology, midwifery, ante-natal care and family planning. Reiger theorises that the result was a displacement of the myth of women as "natural" wives-mothers-housekeepers. Instead, these became skills to be learned, or perhaps more accurately, taught to working class women. 74

Greenwood played her part in publicising these new and "scientific" techniques, citing the work of Professor Winifred Cullis and Dr Truby King. [75] But there is nothing to suggest that for Greenwood, or for the majority of the West Australian feminists, rationality was ever anything but complimentary to "the sacred function of women".

Just as the intervention of science in the home led to a more rational approach to "womanly duties" without displacing the notion of "women' s sacred function", in Greenwood's utopian scenario the application of science to nature resulted in "rational" but no less "natural" cultural arrangements. The pivotal element of the new culture, the evidence of its rationality, was sexual equality and the concept of equality was read through the ideologies surrounding the women's movement.

Greenwood's utopian fables were meant as a series of instructions to be assimilated and acted upon. She, like Nell Eurich's "new utopists", was a reformer presenting her ideal "as a realistic possibility, not as a statement for contemplation but a plan for action". 76 Zygmunt Bauman comments that utopias "have a critical and constructive role in historical process". 77 Karl Mannheim regards utopias as a revolutionary force which exposes ideological constraints of the present and works for social change. 78 Greenwood would have agreed. Her possible societies invited comparison with the listeners' own reality. Their "perfect structures" stood as a critique of contemporary Australian social arrangements. In this way her utopias attempted to convince her listeners of the desirability of change, a desire for change being the precursor of social action.

Greenwood was not afraid to label her scripts "utopian", the word appeared in the text on a number of occasions. In 1937 she cited H.G. Wells, perhaps the most consistently utopian thinker of the modern era, as saying, "you in Australia, away from the narrow racial jealousies and hatreds of Europe, might lead in bringing into existence this new world which science envisages". [79] Such was Greenwood's ambition.


1. See for instance, Lesley Johnson, The Unseen Voice: A Cultural Study of Early Australian Radio (London: Routledge, 1988).

2. Often referred to as "First Wave Feminism".

3. "Women of the Soviet Arctic", Women in the International News, The Women's Session, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, 19 Jan. 1940

4. Untitled script, Women in the lnternational News, The Women's Session, writ. and prod. Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, 8 Jan 1937.

5. "Rosita Forbes - English Woman Explorer, Lecturer and Journalist", Women in the International News, The Women's Session, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, 16 Dec 1938.

6. "Women and Adventure - E Cheesman, Isobel Hutchinson - Botanist", Women in the International News, The Women's Session, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, 5 Feb 1937.

7. "Freya Stark - Traveller in Arabia", Women in the International News, The Women's Session writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, April 29 1938."

8. Vladimir Propp, Morphology of the Folk Tale (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1968), pp.

9. Fredric Jameson, The Prison House of Language (Princeton: Princeton University Press 1972), p. 67.

10. As in Macherey's reading of the work of Jules Verne. Pierre Macherey, A Theory of Literary Production (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1978), p. 183.

11. Rosita Forbes, Greenwood.

12. Untitled script, Radio Roundabout, Woman to Woman, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, 6 PM-AM, 3 Feb 1950.

13. "Paulina Ossipenko, and her Companions of the Historic Non-stop Flight Across the USSR", Women in the International News, The Women's Session, writ. and prod., Irene A Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, 16 June 1939

14. Untitled script, Women in Tomorrow's World, The Women's Session, writ and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, 8 June 1945.

15. Untitled script, 8 June 1945, Greenwood,

16. "Women of Russia: Against the Background of the Nation's War Effort", Women in the International News, The Women's Session, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, n.d.

17. Untitled script, 8 Jan 1937, Greenwood.

18. "Women of Britain: Against the background of the Bombings", Women in the International News, The Women's Session, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, n.d.

19. Untitled script, Women in the International News, The Women's Session, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, 14 May 1937.

20. "Re-building Russia - Women's Part", Women in the International News, The Women's Session, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, n.d.

21. 'Women of Russia", Greenwood.

22. "Women of Russia", Greenwood.

23. Untitled script, Women in Tomorrow's World, The Women's Session, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, 15 June 1945.

24. "Women of Russia", Greenwood.

25. Untitled script, 15 June 1945, Greenwood.

26. "Women of Russian, Greenwood.

27. " Women of Liberated Europe: Yugoslavia", Women in the International News, The Women's Session, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, 24 Jan 1945.

28. Untitled script, Woman to Woman, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, 6PM-AM, 6 April 1953.

29. Walter Lipmann as quoted by Peter Morris, "Re-Thinking Grierson: The Ideology of John Grierson", in History on/and/in Film: Selected Papers from the 3rd Australian History and Film Conference, Perth, Tom O'Regan & Brian Shoesmith (eds) (Perth: History and Film Association of Australia (WA), 1987), p. 23.

30. Walter Lipmann as quoted by Morris, p. 22.

31. Jill Roe, Beyond Belief: Theosophy in Australia 1879-1939 (Kensington: New South Wales University Press, 1986), p. 7.

32. Raoul Mortley, Womanhood. The Feminine in Ancient Hellenism, Gnosticism, Christianity, and Islam (Sydney Delacoix, 1981), p. 24, as quoted by Roe, p. 170.

33. Untitled script, Women in the International News, The Women's Session, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, 11 Sept 1936.

34. "Adventurers Madam [sic] Alexandra David-Neel and Miss Kathleen Glover", Women in the International News, The Women's Session, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, 8 April 1938.

35. James Hilton, Lost Horizon (London: Macmillan & Co Ltd, 1933 rpt. 1956).

36. Frank Capra, dir, Lost Horizon , Columbia Pictures, 1937.

37. Untitled script, 15 June 1945, Greenwood.

38. "Women of Liberated Yougoslavia", Greenwood.

39. Untitled script, 8 Jan 1937, Greenwood.

40. Untitled script, Women in the International News, The Women's Session, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, Australian Broadcasting Commission, 25 Sept,(Probably 1937).

41. Tommaso Campanella, "The City of the Sun: a Poetical Dialogue Between a Grandmaster of the Knights Hospitallers and a Genoese Sea-Captain, his Guest", (1623) rpt in Peaceable Kingdoms: an Anthology of Utopian Writings, Robert L. Chianese (ed) (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, Inc., 1971), pp. 8-41).

42. Untitled script, Women in the International News, The Women's Session, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, 18 Feb 1938.

43. Irene A. Greenwood, Copy of letter to Charles Hartley Gratton, 21 Oct 1940, The Irene Greenwood Collection, Murdoch University.

44. "A Day in the Life of a Woman in a Timber Town", Overseas Broadcast, VLQ, [no serial no.], writ and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Department of Information (Broadcasting Division), 25 Jan 1941.

45. "Items of Interest from Holland, Egypt, and Iran", Women in the International News, The Women's Session, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, 21 Oct 1938.

46. Untitled script, Anti Fascist League Session, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, 10 Nov 1943.

47. Herbert G, Wells "A Modern Utopia", extract rpt. in Glen Negley & Max Patrick, The Quest for Utopia (Maryland: McGrath Publishing Company, 1971), pp. 228-259

48. "Re-Building Russia: Women's Part", Greenwood.

49. "Women of Russia", Greenwood.

50. In Why Peace, an article written by Prichard in response to Greenwood's reader's letters competition, "Mailbag to Microphone", broadcast 14 Dec 1950.

51. "Women and Adventure", Women in the International News, The Women's Session, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, 25 March 1938.

52. Margaret Mead, "Towards More Vivid Utopias", in Science, 126, No 3280 (November 8 1957), pp. 957-961, rpt in George Kateb (ed.) Utopia (New York: Atherton Press, 1971), pp. 41-55.

53. "Makea Ariki, Chieftain of the Cook Islands", Women in the News, Woman to Woman, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, 6PM-AM, 17 Oct 1950

54. "Trial and Error", Book of the Week, Woman to Woman, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, 6PM-AM, 30 Aug., 1950.

55. "A Woman Called Fancy", Book of the Week, Woman to Woman, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, 6PM-AM, 5 Nov 1952.

56. "Adventures of a Botanists Wife", Book of the Week, Woman to Woman, writ. and prod. Irene A. Greenwood, 6PM-AM, I April 1953.

57. Untitled script, 8 June 1945, Greenwood.

58. Roland Barthes, Mythologies (London: Paladin, 1976), p. 138.

59. "The Power of Women in Politics", The Women's Session, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood and Isabel Johnson, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, 20 July 1943.

60. Irene A. Greenwood, Letter to Charles Hartley Gratton, 21, Oct 1940. The Irene Greenwood Collection, Murdoch University.

61. John V. Barry, Wider Powers for Greater Freedom (Melbourne: Rawlson's Book Shop, 1944), pp. 27-32

62. Referendum on Post-War reconstruction and democratic rights, 19 August 1944.

63. "Talk for WA Citizens' Yes League", writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, 17 Aug 1944.

64. "Widow Chuan", Book of the Week, Woman to Woman, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, 6PM-AM, 4 March 1953.

65. Stuart Cunningham, "The Sentimental Age: Chauvel, Melodrama, Nationality". Framework (1986) 30, No 31., p. 41.

66. Cunningham, p. 41.

67. Cunningham, p. 47.

68. Darko Suvin cited by Peter Ruppert, Reader in a Strange Land: The Activity of Reading Literary Utopias (Georgia: The University of Georgia Press, 1985), p. 39.

69. Macherey, p. 172.

70. Macherey, p. 166.

71. "Women and Adventure", Women in the International News, The Women's Session, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, 25 March 1938.

72. "Women of the Soviet Arctic", Greenwood.

73. "Peter Kapitsa - Physicist and Engineer. Director of the Institute of Physical Problems of the Academy of Sciences of the USSR", People in the International News, the Women's Session, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, 24 Feb 1946.

74. Kareen Reiger, The Disenchantment of the Home: Modernising the Australian Family 1880-1940 (Melbourne: Oxford University Press, 1985).

75. Untitled script, Women in the International News, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, n. d.

76. Nell Eurich, Science in Utopia: a Mighty Design (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1967), p. 267.

77. Zygmunt Bauman, Socialism the Active Utopia (London: George Allen and Unwin, 1976), p. 13.

78. Ruppert p. 74.

79. Untitled script, A Woman Views the News, the Women's Session, writ. and prod., Irene A. Greenwood, The Australian Broadcasting Commission, 13 Aug 1936.

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