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On a brisk early winter day in late 1994, I was on my way from my home in Fredericton, New Brunswick, to Halifax, Nova Scotia, about a five-hour drive away, to meet Ian Keen. I had just been accepted into the PhD program at The Australian National University, and Ian was to be my supervisor. As luck would have it, he was visiting his late brother’s family in Halifax, and I decided to take the opportunity to make an overnight trip to meet him as I prepared for what was to become the most important decade, professionally, in my life. I had spent much of that northern hemisphere autumn reading and re-reading Knowledge and Secrecy in an Aboriginal Religion, which had just been published and which I had ordered through my local bookstore. This was a powerfully liminal period for me, personally and professionally. I had completed my honours degree earlier in the year, and was to leave for Australia the following February. Those crisp autumn days were spent immersing myself in the Arnhem Land ethnographic literature and daydreaming about fieldwork. Knowledge and Secrecy loomed large in that period—for me, it represented an imaginary future. For Ian, as I came to learn, it represented the midpoint of a very distinguished career.

Introduction: Strings of Connectedness in Ian Keen’s Scholarship