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You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2014/feb/07/schapelle-corbys-story-a-metaphor-for-australian-fears

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Schapelle Corby's story: a metaphor for Australian fears? Schapelle Corby's story: a metaphor for Australian fears?
(7 months later)
Schapelle Corby is more than a Schapelle Corby is more than a prisoner – she’s an industry.
prisoner – she’s an industry. Her arrest and incarceration in Kerobokan, Bali, has spawned books, conspiracy theories, an upcoming Channel Nine miniseries, countless magazine stories and websites devoted to her cause.
Her arrest and incarceration in With news that she willsoon be free, a new chapter in her story begins.
Kerobokan, Bali, has spawned books, conspiracy theories, an upcoming Channel Nine Regardless of what happens next - Schapelle is fixed as our generation's Lindy Chamberlain. Sphinx-like in her silence, she’s been freighted with so much narrative over the years – martyr, political pawn, drug syndicate operator, mentally ill – that the reality of her (I mean, what’s she actually like?) has been obscured.
miniseries, countless magazine stories and websites devoted to her cause. There raged for years – and still rages – arguments about her guilt or otherwise. People felt passionately about it, and even now there is heat still in discussions about her case, long after her conviction. Her dogged supporters attack journalists on social media who don’t report her case in the way they’d like, while many highly informed Indonesia watchers believe that she is a textbook case of everything you can do wrong when you come into contact with the Indonesian legal system: make a fuss, play the victim in the press, complain too loudly, attempt to put an excessive amount of pressure on the Indonesian government.
With news that she will soon be free, a new chapter in her story begins. Corby is also a conduit for something else: the way we feel about Bali – our weird, scared, passionate love affair with the place.
Regardless of what happens next - Bali is our most favoured tourist destination; more Australians travel there each year than any other nationality. We love it, but we fear it as well. So accommodating, so hospitable – yet so other. Veer off the main roads and away from the bars and you can trail a cremation ceremony winding through the streets – the vibe switching gear suddenly from party town to something more mysterious. It’s a place you can visit many times but still never quite get a handle on.
Schapelle is fixed as our generation's Lindy Chamberlain. Sphinx-like in her silence, she’s There's sprung up a mini industry of "bad-Bali" books and TV shows, that feeds that fear, featuring Aussies caught up in a seedy underbelly of drugs and decadence. Australians falling in swimming pools and dying, Australians drinking arak and going blind, Australian kids arrested for drug possession, Australians’ brain damaged in scooter accidents, Australians dropping dead after dinner.
been freighted with so much narrative over the years – martyr, political pawn, Schapelle represents the worst fears for people (a holiday that turns to hell) – a lightening rod for their complicated feelings about Indonesia. And Kerobokan prison is wrongly – and insultingly – portrayed in magazines and books as some sort of Dantesque 7th circle of hell.
drug syndicate operator, mentally ill – that the reality of her (I mean, what’s she actually like?) has been obscured. But despite it all, at ground level, Corby is the great uniter between Indonesians and Australians. Indonesians may not know who our prime minister is – and many Australians have no idea who their president is – but we all know Schapelle.
There raged for years – and still She's first-name famous among the Balinese. The taxi drivers and the shopkeepers will make small talk with you and say, "You know Schapelle ... ?" and then lean in and tell you some salacious piece of gossip. She's their sport as well – a bit of common ground between the Hindu driver earning $100 a month and the Perth lager lout, or Sydney yoga freak, or middle-class Melbourne family renting a villa in Seminyak.
rages – arguments about her guilt or otherwise. People felt passionately about
it, and even now there is heat still in discussions about her case, long after
her conviction. Her dogged supporters attack
journalists on social media who don’t report her case in the way they’d like,
while many highly informed Indonesia watchers believe that she is a textbook
case of everything you can do wrong when you come into contact with the
Indonesian legal system: make a fuss, play the victim in the press, complain
too loudly, attempt to put an excessive amount of pressure on the Indonesian
government.
Corby is also a conduit for something
else: the way we feel about Bali – our weird, scared, passionate
love affair with the place.
Bali is our most favoured tourist destination; more Australians travel there each year than any other nationality. We
love it, but we fear it as well. So accommodating, so hospitable – yet so other. Veer off the main roads and away
from the bars and you can trail a cremation ceremony winding through the
streets – the vibe switching gear suddenly from party town to something more
mysterious. It’s a place you can visit many times but still never
quite get a handle on.
There's sprung up a mini industry of
"bad-Bali" books and TV shows, that feeds that fear, featuring
Aussies caught up in a seedy underbelly of drugs and decadence. Australians
falling in swimming pools and dying, Australians drinking arak and going blind,
Australian kids arrested for drug possession, Australians’ brain damaged in
scooter accidents, Australians dropping dead after dinner.
Schapelle represents the worst fears
for people (a holiday that turns to hell) – a lightening rod for their complicated
feelings about Indonesia. And Kerobokan prison is wrongly – and insultingly –
portrayed in magazines and books as some sort of Dantesque 7th circle of hell.
But despite it all, at ground level,
Corby is the great uniter between Indonesians and Australians.
Indonesians may not know who our prime minister is – and many Australians have
no idea who their president is – but we all know Schapelle.
She's first-name famous among the
Balinese. The taxi drivers and the shopkeepers will make small talk with you
and say, "You know Schapelle ... ?" and then lean in and tell you some
salacious piece of gossip. She's their sport as well – a bit of common ground
between the Hindu driver earning $100 a month and the Perth lager lout, or
Sydney yoga freak, or middle-class Melbourne family renting a villa in
Seminyak.
And all are wondering – what happens next?And all are wondering – what happens next?