The Kwalic Archive (Part One)
From the various stories that I've been told about Jack's childhood I've concluded that the four Ross kids were brilliant eccentrics from an early age. I'd glimpsed evidence of this in the strange invented languages and code-names they had inscribed into the fly leaves of their picture books and in the fragments of a large blackboard mural buried behind Jack's bookshelves in his old bedroom. By removing rows of books I could make out a menacing army of chalk ants about to lay siege to a castle being defended by a band of stick figure patriots. But the full extent of their extraordinary imaginations came to light recently through the discovery of the most amazing archive of Ross family juvenilia.
When I was clearing out a camphor chest a few months ago I came across a number of little packets of pattern pieces for toy koalas made by Jack's late sister Anne. As a novice toy maker myself I was amazed by the intricacy and variety of the pattern pieces and the unusual markings on each one like 'real' and 'yes'.
When I noticed the names 'Hothair' and 'Dodey' on two of the packets my curiosity was piqued. I asked Jack about them and he told me that there were many more koalas and that what had started out as a simple game between Anne and him with toy koalas that they had brought home from a trip to Australia grew over time into an elaborate story of the 'Kwala' kingdom of 'Kwalaloompa'. He introduced me to Balthus and Bibulus, two handsome Kwala specimens that Anne had made and when I asked June if she had any others that I could look at she dug inside her cupboard and pulled out a box load of Anne's Kwalas and handed me an envelope marked 'Kwalic Documents'.
Having spent much of the past four years laboriously trawling through an archive of 400 of Rita Angus's letters for my PhD research I've become a fairly seasoned archival researcher but I can honestly say that nothing could have prepared me for the contents of the dog-eared envelope that came into my hands yesterday. What a treasure!
Allogee, whose main form of expression is the word 'Nay', is a mischievous tot who gets into trouble from an early age, knocking over the precious family heirlooms and leaping into muddy puddles whenever he can.
As he gets older Allogee's main interest becomes the location and consumption of huge amounts of pies, chocolates and sweets. On one occasion he demolishes an entire feast intended for a gathering of 7000 of his relations much to the chagrin of his long-suffering guardian Tabatha.
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