A woman friend, a well known novelist, told me recently that she was still having nightmares about the hobyahs forty five years after primary school. I was glad to hear this because variations on the hobyahs, some tribe or platoon of mysterious unspecified enemies, invade my dreams about once a week.
I think Jung would have plenty to say about the hobyahs. Perhaps after all these years they're embedded in the collective unconsciousness of the nation.
Indeed, I wonder whether it's the ingrained fear of hobyahs in Australians over forty that has given rise to some recent unseemly political movements and government decisions. Robert Drewe Walking Ella Box Press 1998 p 75.
boynton was born too late to learn to read with the Victorian Readers and the dreaded hobyahs, but has heard the stories. This was a lucky escape from more neurotic fodder. Peter and the Wolf was bad enough.
Oooh - a chorus of horns is enough to stand my hair on end - imagine what Prokofiev would have made of the hobyahs
Posted by Nora at September 15, 2003 11:20 PM
Nah - Prok. and hobyahs - too awful to contemplate.
Same goes for Saint-Saens - not to mention Bernard Herrmann.
Posted by boynton at September 16, 2003 01:19 PM