That is why they call him a bookie

That is why they call him a bookie

BOOKMAKER Tom Waterhouse is at again.

The son of leading Australian racehorse trainer Gai Waterhouse is fresh from betting on the Sotheby auction of the Edvard Munch pastel The Scream.

Aussie author Miles Franklin

He follows up with a market on the prestigious and time-honoured Australian literary award the Miles Franklin which carries a winner-take-all purse of $50,000.

The Franklin is more than 50-years-old. An even older wordy institution The Sydney Morning Herald newspaper could not resist a comment on the bookie’s sideline from wagering on reality TV shows, The Voice and Brain Surgery with the Fishmongers. I apologise; I believe the latter one is called Dancing with Stars.

The SMH or the Herald – Sydneysiders are the only Australians who call it that, as there other Heralds in Oz – wrote about the betting on the books in one of its online entertainment stories.

The Herald wrote, ‘The day after the shortlist was confirmed, bookmaker and celebrated literary critic Tom Waterhouse released his list of odds on who would win…’

HERE

Oh yes, that bit about “celebrated literary critic” was definitely taking the piss, having a go/ dig at the bookie or having a lend of him. (Alright, you pedants technically that should be the noun loan, not the verb lend; but Aussie slang is what it is.)

The irony – bonus points coming for my using the term irony correctly – is the Miles Franklin yarn would probably have never made it to the SMH entertainment pages if it was not for the quirky gambling angle.

SHE: Darling, there is a story online about the Miles Franklin short-list

HE: Franklin, my Dear, I don’t give a damn.

Five Australian novelists have been shortlisted for the Miles Franklin and Waterhouse tells his punters what the race is all about:

‘…the $50,000 prize for the novel judged to be of the highest literary merit which must present Australian life in any of its phases," said Tom Waterhouse, Managing Director of tomwaterhouse.com.’

Tom or one of his agents copied the description from the Franklin website
http://www.milesfranklin.com.au/

It did not seem to trouble Tom or the many entrants what exactly "Australian life in any of its phases" is meant to  mean.

I automatically thought of the eight phases of the moon but the aim of such an allusion eluded me.

Judging this year was further confounded by the trustee The Trust Company formally authorising the five-person judging panel to use their discretion to ‘modernise the interpretation of Australian life beyond geographical boundaries to include mindset, language, history and values’

Crikey, when you add the fact, the winning author does not have to be Australian, the five Aussie scribes are bloody lucky Forrest Gump was not published last year.

Certainly the Waterhouse favourite for the Miles Franklin Anna Funder’s All That I Am, is only fleetingly grounded in Australia because one narrator Ruth Blatt is spending the last years of her life in Sydney around the turn of the 21^st century.

Funder’s is a “factional’’ novel, a term the author may dislike but then she is unlikely to be reading this yarn.

The novel is about five Jewish-German opponents of Hitler who flee to London and later one to America.

Tom Waterhouse says the new rules are among the reasons he made Funder favourite.

‘(The new authorisation) is significant given that Anna's highly acclaimed debut novel is set across three continents and several decades.’ (A note for future reference, Mr Waterhouse, it is not Anna. We in the writing game refer to authors and artists by their family names unless we regularly enjoy soy latte with them, a fact we need to disclose.)

The 2012 Miles Franklin winner will be disclosed on June 20 so we have lots of time to place our bets.

In my next yarn on the topic, I will discuss the form of the five finalists.

For more quirky looks at Australia’s place in the universe my book 7 Shouts is available from Google Books, Amazon and affiliates.

Cheers
Bernie

Horseys painties and big bucksies

REMIND me not to bet on anything with fewer than four legs.

Aussie bookmaker  Tom Waterhouse was betting $1.90 Edvard Munch’s pastel painting The Scream would fetch more than $106.5M at an auction at Sotheby’s auction in New York.

My considered opinion was it would go for a mere pittance, less than, $80M. I was way off.

The Scream went for chump change under $120M.

The winning bid was taken by a Sotheby's executive, and the bidder was not identified.

One of four versions by  Norwegian artist Munch, but the only one in private hands, The Scream easily topped the previous auction record held by Picasso's Nude, green leaves and bust, which went for a piddling $106.5 million at Christie's two years ago.

It is reported the sales room at Sotheby's erupted in applause and cheering when the hammer came down. A few titters of laughter came from those who had read my estimation had paid 50% too much. I believe the laughter was directed at me rather than the buyer.

I could go on about some people having too much money and I will for a bit. Two resolute bidders drew away from the original field of seven to drive the price up by telephone.

Overall, the Sotheby fetched a record $330 million with Picasso's Femme assise dans un fauteuil, selling  for $29.2M; Miro's Tete humaine taking $14.86M out of someone’s purse and Dali's  Printemps necrophilique, gathering  $16.3M in the dead of spring.

Talking of the dead, I made my money today on the annual Grand National Steeplechase at Warnambool, Victoria, here in Australia.

I say dead as the music for the unofficial Aussie national anthem Waltzing Matilda was supposedly the modification of a tune Christina Macpherson heard at this race meeting in 1894. I say dead also in remembrance of the horses and jockeys who have lost their lives during the atavistic sport of jumps racing.

I support the abolition of jumps racing while I will bet on them as long as they continue. You might call that horsey hypocrisy and it would be a good call. As I mentioned in my previous column, we Aussies will bet on two flies crawling up a wall.

Great Britain is the thorn in the side of a world-wide ban on jumps racing. Racetracks there have total programs with jumps racing. Many expensive racehorses run on both the flat and over jumps. The Grand National Steeplechase is an institution.

Banning jumps racehorses would create more reaction than recent attempts to stop the barbaric fox hunting. Oscar Wilde was awake to the essence of that sport  more than a century ago. He called it ``the unspeakable in pursuit of the edible''.

Without presuming to improve in Wilde, he could have said the ``ineffable in pursuit''. The prefix “in’’  can convey emphasis instead of negativity. Extreme ‘’effers” support fox hunting and jumps racing.

For more of my extreme pontifications see 7 Shouts at Google eBooks or  Amazon.

Cheers
Bernie.