The Daily Tar Heel Thursday. April 16, 19873 Book gives pride back to Aussies By JAMES SUROWIECKI Sports Editor For many Australians, their national heritage is akin to a mad relative, hidden away in a musty corner of the big house, thought of only unpleasantly. Twenty years ago, Australian history was limited in scope and mythic in nature. The story of the islands origins was not told. It was as if the river Lethe had flooded Australia, cleansing its inhabitants' memories of what had come before. It was, though, a river the inhabitants bathed in willlingly, for there were few who wished to recall that the first European settlers of the island were exiled convicts and their unfortunate wardens. The need to forget, a need keenly felt by the Australian upper class, was balanced by the desire of the lower classes to remember the indignities their ancestors had suffered and overcome. And so a mythology was created, one which emphasized the convicts' noble aspect and the injus tice of their sentences. Those who had been sent from England were polit ical prisoners, exiled not for thievery but for sedition against the Crown. Or they were innocent poachers, criminals in name only, victims of landed wealth and greed. The myth of the yeoman criminal provided not just solace. It also created a historical framework of oppression into which the conflict between poor and rich fit rather neatly. But for all its power, such a portrait of the past was no more true than would be a history which simply glossed over the island's origins. Something more was needed. That something is Robert Hughes' brilliant The Fatal Shore, a devas tatingly eloquent and crisply orches trated history of the founding of Australia as an English penal colony. It is also the story of a colony which transcended its rather inauspicious beginnings to lay the foundation of a nation. Hughes is arts editor for Time and was born and educated in Sydney, and both of those pieces of informa tion seem important. The first pre vents the book from degenerating into the ponderous style with which professional historians are too often gifted. Hughes writes powerfully, his sentences tinged with a love of rhetoric and of language. And when he discusses the work of convict architect Francis Howard Greenway, Hughes' genius emerges. He writes, "(Greenway) had to concentrate on proportion and mate rial texture, rather than ornament: the simple-looking (but closely accounted) use of Palladian bays, with plain pilasters r- brick on the Barracks, tawny sandstone on St. James' firmly stating the ratios of the walls. His Doric detalinig. straightforward and .masculj line... suited the hard clarity of Australian " J i 7 1 light ... As in early American The fcSI ' filial (C? Tf ff f TH) TP 3MMWBMC I I I " jtKC3 The epic of Australia's founding OTmIDIC H5HF AUoLk L churches, the direct speech of Green way's idiom reinforced the content of the rituals." Hughes' smooth prose is balanced by his splendid research. He has done a fine job of integrating into his account the previously unexplored letters and memoirs of the island's convicts, including melodramatic ballads and evocative doggerel verse. Hughes' immersion in the primary sources of early Australia make this a work of grand scholarship, which will, in the future, undoubtedly be the seminal tome on the subject'. Hughes is not just a writer, though. He is also an Australian, and that fact fills his work with an air, not of atonement, but of exorcism. He makes no apology for the way in which his nation was birthed, nor does he shy away from its consequen ces. But, in some sense, by telling this story Hughes purges the national conscience. His efforts should allow Australians to look at their past not with revulsion, but, perhaps, with some sense of pride. Such pride is possible because of the courage and dignity which Hughes is able to derive from the violent and brutal tale of Australia's birth. In 1770, Captain Cook claimed the land for England. Sixteen years later, William Pitt's cabinet settled on Botany Bay, on Australia's eastern coast, as the site of its new penal colony. As it was first conceived, Australia was the perfect place in wh'.ch to execute that solution. The island was the antipodes, socially as well as geographically. Convicts would be sent there to work off their sentences, and in so doing would be colonists of a sort. But creating a new nation was not what Pitt had in mind. The antipodes would be at once a deter jenVjto crime and a safety valve for the removal of those who were not deterred. Book Review - Y T7 i ! & 1 I win ii wmr. 1 1 irtl tn i inm mrW'C. The need to make Australia a forbidding place was taken seriously by most of its governors. One could not have the poor in England looking upon the antipodes as a potential escape from the hopelessness of London. And so the predominant symbol of the island's early years was the lash. Flogging was taken seriously by the colony's masters. It was an act of ultimate humiliation, representing the complete dominance of guard over prisoner. Tied to the triangle, whipped until his blood ran swiftly, the convict was totally powerless. His only recourse was silence in the face of unspeakable pain. The lash was the symbol of the guard-prisoner dichotomy which became translated into a rigid two class system. Fom the beginning, the colony was divided between free and convict. Whether a man was now in society was irrelevant, though. What mattered was where he had started. ;And so the gap between the Exclu sives, the free settlers, and the ; Emancipists, the freed convicts, grew. Even the Currency, the free children of convicts, were disdained by the Exclusives. This was a persistent division, perhaps the most potent effect of the Gulag-like treatment of the convicts. It is also a system which makes even more difficult the task of finding something to hold on to in the pangs of Australia's birth. But Hughes reaches beyond the class stratification, beyond the mar tinets and sadists who dominated the colony. He finds the courage of those who were silent underneath the whip, the flash of the roguish bushrangers who lived free (if always just a step ahead of the law), the stories of those convicts who used their liberty to build a new life. And in so doing, tie dtecuvefst : afoftgwfth the suffering and evil.lronorarid iriurrrplt: Two minutes for Calabash Even second counts when you're cookin Calabash. When the color's perfect you're done, and that's always less than two minutes. That's why Calabash seafood has so much taste and tenderness, heaped up high on your plate! LASiLrmtEK SEAFOOD RESTAURANT where the cook in s timed in seconds t Our Light 'n' Lean dinner is a Steak & Salad Bar combination. It's totally delicious, yet light n' lean. Enjoy this closely trimmed lean sirloin and our Salad Bar selections of fresh vegetables, fruits, cheese, and specialties. 324 w. is too long Dinner: 5-9. " days a week Lunch: lf:30-2. Mondav-Fridav 493-80 96"-822-Major credit cards Hwv 54 East at 1-40 n Loii. Rosemary St. Super Luncheon "7IQ Special 11am-4pm Mon.-Sat. J

Page Text

This is the computer-generated OCR text representation of this newspaper page. It may be empty, if no text could be automatically recognized. This data is also available in Plain Text and XML formats.

Return to page view