An opal-hearted country,
A wilful, lavish land –
All you who have not loved her,
You will not understand –
Though earth holds many splendours,
Wherever I may die,
I know to what brown country
My homing thoughts will fly.
-- Dorothea Mackellar (My Country)
Books Featured:
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Happy Reading, Friends!
“Storm boy and his father live alone in a humpy among the sandhills between the Southern Ocean and the Coorong – a lonely, narrow waterway that runs parallel to a long stretch of the South Australian coast. Among the teeming birdlife of the Coorong, Storm Boy finds an injured young pelican whose life he saves.
From then on, Storm boy and Mr Percival the pelican become inseparable friends and spend their days exploring the wave-beaten shore and the drifting sandhills.
Mr Percival learns to help Storm Boy’s father with his fishing and warn the other birdlife whenever poachers are coming, but his part in rescuing a shipwrecked crew leads to great changes in Storm Boy’s life.”
This is a super quick read, as it’s a children’s book and I should have probably read it 30 years ago. Never fear though, nobody will look twice at you if you choose to read Storm Boy on the bus as a grown adult. If they’ve read the book, you may get strangers nodding sadly to you in solidarity over a fictional pelican though, which is fine.
Before we go any further, I’ll just state that Mr Percival is a hero. A hero who will be sorely missed. A hero who probably would have spent many a happy year frolicking on the beach eating stolen fish, if it wasn’t for those pesky poachers.
If you haven’t read this story yet – spoiler alert – Mr Percival lives a long happy life eating fish well into his grey-beard pelican years and he goes on to write beloved stories with a pen he makes out of sandhilll reeds … *puts hands over ears* … we’ll hear no talk of deceased pelicans.
A better pelican I have not met. Vale, Mr Percival. Vale.
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“In 1902, newly-married Jeannie Gunn (Mrs Aeneas Gunn) left the security and comfort of her Melbourne home to travel to the depths of the Northern Territory, where her husband had been appointed manager of ‘The Elsey’, a large cattle station. One of the very few white women in the area, she was at first resented by people on and around the station, till her warmth and spirit won their affection and respect.
She had an unerring ear and eye for the sounds and sights of the country; and this is her moving and simple account of her life amidst the beauty and cruelty of the land, and the isolation and loneliness – together with the comradeship and kindness of those around her.
The favourite of generations of Australians since it was first published in 1908, We of the Never-Never can truly be called a classic.”
This Australian classic has been on my radar for a number of years. First published in 1908, there’s some questionable language and casual racism to be aware of, but I’m glad I picked up the story.
One of my favourite things to do, is to hit the road and drive around Australia – through forests, long stretches of dry scrubland, cityscapes and soaking in ocean views. It’s amazing to me to think of doing something similar on the back of an old wagon, rattling down dirt tracks and looking for the next suitable waterhole.
Our narrator in this story, Jeannie Gunn – didn’t have anywhere near as much access to cola and road trip snacks, as she joined her new husband on a remote cattle station in the Northern Territory. What a champion. And can you imagine how long it would have taken for your Amazon packages to get through?!
I would have liked to hear more of Jeannie’s inner dialogue, a window into how she was feeling and reacting to her experiences in the stark and often unforgiving Australian bush. She just seemed to get on with it – continually proving to the sun-hardened bushmen around her, that she could be just as tough as the rest of them. But a new house would be lovely, please and thank you.
I loved how the stockmen referred to the area as the land of ‘Plenty of Time’ and ‘Wait Awhile’.
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“A shiralee is a swag, a burden, a bloody millstone – and that’s what four-year-old Buster is to her father, Macauley. He takes the child on the road with him to spite his wife, but months pass and still no word comes to ask for the little girl back.
Strangers to each other at first, father and daughter drift aimlessly through the dusty towns of Australia, sleeping rough and relying on odd jobs for food and money.
Buster’s resilience and trust slowly erode Macauley’s resentment, and when he’s finally able to get rid of her, he realises he can’t let his shiralee go.
In evocative prose that vividly conjures images of rural Australia, The Shiralee reveal an understanding of the paradoxical nature of the burdens we carry, creates a moving portrait of fatherhood, told with gruff humour and a gentle pathos.”
I remember watching the 1987 TV mini-series of ‘The Shiralee‘ many moons ago, and the warm memory of it has stayed with me for longer than a lot of things I should probably try to remember instead .. PIN numbers .. birthdays .. whether green or red curry is hotter. My family will tell you I had an obsession with Bryan Brown (who starred in the mini-series) – but in my mind, it was completely normal as a teenager to decoupage pictures of ‘movie stars’ onto your study desk. He just featured prominently.
Anyway – finally reading the novel, I was surprised how much more of a rough character Macauley was in the book. Perhaps now that I’m an adult, I have a bit more life-experience that shades my reading of the text, or perhaps Bryan Brown just wanted to keep it lighter.
I did enjoy the book – though would it have killed D’Arcy Niland to throw in some chapter breaks? No chapters at all in this one – though it is a quick read.
Buster was a great character & the depiction of Macauley’s ex-wife was quite layered. Again, as the book was published in 1955 – the phrasing (racism/sexism) is a product of its time, and may be confronting for some readers in places.
