by Kim Kelly
THE BANJO OR THE BOOZE?
I often wonder if there are two camps of Australian writers, and maybe Australians in general – the Lawsons and the Patersons. Those who walk with their characters and those who talk about them; those who are realists and those who romanticise; the socialists and the conservatives; the philosophers and the idealists.
Anyone who knows my stories would probably guess I’m a fan of Mr Lawson. It’s his honesty that takes me by the collar and makes me look, even when he says things I disagree with, and this small letter he wrote to The Bulletin in 1903 is one perfect example – and one of my favourite Lawson raves:
Dear Bulletin
I’m awfully surprised to find myself sober. And, being sober, I take up my pen to write a few lines, hoping they will find you as I am at present. I want to know a few things. In the first place: Why does a man get drunk? There seems to be no excuse for it. I get drunk because I am in trouble, and I get drunk because I’ve got out of it. I get drunk because I’m sick, or have corns, or the toothache: and I get drunk because I’m feeling well and grand. I get drunk because I was rejected; and I got awfully drunk the night I was accepted. And, mind you, I don’t like to get drunk at all, because I don’t enjoy it much, and suffer hell afterwards. I’m always far better and happier when I’m sober, and tea tastes better than beer. But I get drunk. I get drunk when I feel that I want a drink, and I get drunk when I don’t. I get drunk because I had a row last night and made a fool of myself and it worries me, and when things are fixed up I get drunk to celebrate it. And, mind you, I’ve got no craving for a drink. I get drunk because I’m frightened about things, and because I don’t care a damn. Because I’m hard up and because I’m flush. And, somehow, I seem to have better luck when I’m drunk. I don’t think the mystery of drunkenness will ever be explained – until all things are explained, and that will be never. A friend says that we don’t drink to feel happier, but to feel less miserable. But I don’t feel miserable when I’m straight. Perhaps I’m not perfectly sober right now, after all. I’ll go and get a drink, and write again later.
Lawson
The Patersons can find him messy and a bit of a silly old fool, but I love him like a long, lost, strange and often hilarious uncle. There’s not a writing day goes by that I don’t try to shoot for his cheek and his humour.
But who’s your favourite bush bard? Lawson or Paterson or maybe a mix of both?
Whoever you love, here’s cheers!
I pay homage to Banjo in my usual wry way in my release this coming May (Hope you liked the rhyme KK. (And I just checked my final pages to make sure I had his name right! Phew! 🙂
Jenn, you’re a poet, I swear. What’s your homage to him – don’t tease me like that!
Excerpt Season of Shadow and Light (don;t tell Bert!)
‘That’s me. Banbhan Jones O’Brien Egan at your service,’ he said, forcing what had been a faint Irish lilt into a pronounced accent. ‘Now you know why the locals call me Banjo.’
‘I see. Well, Banjo, I’m hoping you can help us. I’m looking for something—’
‘We’re all lookin’ for somethin’, girlie, but as I always say it’s what we do when we find it that’s most important.’ He winked and waited, making Paige wonder if she was supposed to say something in return. ‘So, you like most city folk who find themselves here?’ he asked.
‘Sorry?’
‘You’ve come out all this way thinkin’ Coolabah Tree Gully and The Billabong means the Coolabah tree from Mr Paterson’s 1827 ditty must be somewhere round these parts.’
That was far from the reason for their visit, but Paige’s curiosity made her ask. ‘I gather there is no tree?’
‘Oh, there’s trees. Only not that tree. And most folk are mighty disappointed when they find the real deal is about 1500 kilometres that-a-way.’ He thumbed north. ‘Winton.’
‘Winton?’
‘Middle of Queensland. Place where Banjo penned his poem.’ ‘I see, well, lucky that’s not why we’re in town.’ This was
quickly turning very, very weird.
🙂
But maybe you should not read this one. I am not kidneying, okay?
Hahaha! That’s great, Jenn – bestest to your Shadow and Light. PS don’t tell anyone in Orange that I prefer Henry xx
Deal!