Eunice Andrada’s KONTRA and Lee Lai’s Cannon longlisted for 2026 Stella Prize
Two Giramondo authors have been longlisted for the 2026 Stella Prize: Eunice Andrada for her poetry collection KONTRA and Lee Lai for her graphic novel Cannon. The announcement was made at a ceremony on 11 March, which was coincidentally the night of Lee’s Melbourne book launch. Meanwhile, Eunice’s book had a few weeks’ prior won the Victorian Premier’s Literary Award for Poetry.
Read the Stella judges’ remarks on both works below.
KONTRA by Eunice Andrada
KONTRA is remarkable because it appears confessional and personal while in fact playing with a poetic speaking persona. That figure is the kontrabida, a provocateur, villainess figure from Filipino television dramas. Through the figure of the bida Andrada grapples with the complexities of Filipina feminine identities. The collection challenging readers assumptions about how contemporary poetry works, inviting us to remain at a distance from the writing, while at the same time allowing us to become intimate with many of its voices. The collection as a whole emphasizes setting, character, scene and action in ways we associate with prose narrative, and it does so through innovative, surprising poetic technique, form and voice. We find humor and playfulness, quiet but insistent. Andrada’s scenes are sometimes like teledrama sets – groups of women in a room, with life swirling around them, letting her play with the melodramatic figure of the bida without giving into melodrama. Her canny title also resonates in the poet’s sense of being out of step both with her Filipina heritage and her Australian identity. She’s always exploring the idea of selfhood made from contrary motions, migrations and creative forms.
Cannon by Lee Lai
Reliable and dutiful Cannon (real name: Lucy; nickname Luce; ironically – or perhaps not – Luce Cannon) has myriad responsibilities. During the day, she helps her avoidant mother by taking care of her elderly gung-gung (maternal grandfather). At night, she works in the pressure-cooker kitchen of a fine dining restaurant. In her off-hours, she’s a confidante and troubleshooter for best friend Trish. However, Cannon is about to crack – something we see in a dizzying flashforward in the first pages. Cannon is a compelling depiction of a fracturing friendship between two queer, second-generation Chinese women. It is also a bruising examination of the lifelong weight that people – often women – carry, the profound toll it takes to be the “responsible one”, and what can happen when you are being taken advantage of repeatedly. (Bonus: it is also, somehow, very funny.) Lai’s elegant artistry evokes horror and poignancy, shock and delight, and Cannon is an incontestable reminder that – in the hands of a masterful artist and storyteller – the very best graphic novels can do what prose alone cannot. And Cannon is absolutely one of the best.
