"Captain Frederick Hare didn’t know it, but
the Kelly gang was in town, and holding up the Bank around the corner. He looked
out past the faded orange calico curtains of his 2 room Police Cottage at Greta and decided it was time for a cup of
tea. “English breakfast or Chinese
Green?" he wondered as he filled his kettle a little over three quarters full,
as he always did with luke warm water from the squeaky kitchen tap that needed
a washer replaced, and then he struck a match to get the fire started. The
first match went out, he tossed it into the little stack of kindling already
set in the fireplace and struck another – there were only five matches left in
the box which when new had over 60, but this time, the paper, torn from last weeks Argus caught fire, and
the tiny flames spread and grew, they spread and grew until the kindling began
to burn with a flicker and after 3 or perhaps 4 minutes the fire was burning
brightly. Hare set the old battered kettle down carefully, its loose handle
rattling, and looked back out of the window : a small crowd of people had gathered
across the road – he counted them, being a meticulous Police Commissioner :
three adults and a child. Father Morton
he recognized at once, his black cloak moving in the wind, and old Joseph Ingleheim
the Austrian store keeper with the bad hip. And was that Mrs O’ Reilly and her daughter
Megan, the one who could by memory, recite the entire list of the 24 Books of
the Old Testament? They were looking at a cat that had died, the tabby that octogenarian Mrs Mitchell had nursed through its old age, but time had finally caught up
to it, and it went to sleep at her front gate never to wake again. “Shes going
to be upset for sure” muttered Father Morton, the kindly Priest from the
Catholic mission, shaking his head. “To be sure” said Mrs O’Reilly as Megan
wiped away a tear. They all wondered silently to themselves “Who was going to
be the one to go and tell her?”
Yes, this is my review of “Glenrowan:
The Legend of Ned Kelly and the siege
that shaped a nation” – to give the book its full title - by Ian Shaw, published in 2012. Ive just
downloaded it to my Kindle, and read it over the New Year break. Here now is my
Review, and I have to start by warning
the reader not to go looking in it for the paragraph above about the dead cat – its not in the book. That’s because I wrote it myself, just now, after wondering
if I could just as easily as Ian Shaw construct boring writing that misses the
point, lists the names and trivial
details of irrelevant people, is full of errors, and that leaves you wondering
why bother?
Yes, I know its an exaggerated and unfair
parody but that I am afraid expresses what I mostly felt after finishing a book
that I had higher hopes for. This book nearly drove me insane!
To start with, one buys a book called
“Glenrowan” because one wants to read about – wait for it - Glenrowan! But Shaw
cant help himself and begins with a condensed version of the entire Kelly
history that one has to wade through first, but it’s a version that is too short
to contain anything really useful, but long enough to contain hideously
superficial and inadequate accounts of all manner of Kelly stories, such as
this:
“That was good thought Ned, because this
was not a social visit to one of his family’s many friends in the township or
its surrounds. Tonight was business for Ned. Business that began when he and
his friends were hounded into outlawry by the police and the powers of the
state who directed what the Police should do”
What?
I decided to ignore the problems in these
accounts and skate past Neds early life, past the Fitzpatrick incident, past
Stringybark Creek, Euroa and Jerilderie, as Shaw had done and anticipate
something more substantial beginning much closer to the incident itself, the
area of Shaws declared fascination.
And sure enough (pun intended!) by the time
the chronology had reached Aarons hut and everything that followed his murder,
the microscope came out and a very detailed description of the exact sequence
of events followed. …except….except that now there was way too much of it! Now
it was fact after fact and name after name and a rather clinical description
that tried to line everything up and make it all sensible and comprehensible,
who was behind this tree or that, the distances between them, what time was it
when constable A said such and such to Sergeant B, where Dan stood when Hare
fired in that direction…… when in fact, there was chaos, noise, smoke, shouting,
fear, screaming and bleeding and darkness and flames and flashes and the moon
coming and going behind clouds, troops, Blacks, children and babies, death,rockets,
horses…colour, movement, drama…but Shaw seems to have missed all that - there’s nothing really gripping in his storytelling,
and for me, it all falls flat.
Compare these descriptions by two Ians of
Ned under fire, and you will see what I mean:
“ Every time a bullet struck his armour Ned
staggered as the impact was like being
punched by a powerful man. The shots that struck his helmet were particularly
painful without the skullcap that had absorbed some of the impact before” (Ian
Shaw; Glenrowan)
“The way to the Inn was opening up, but Ned
found himself advancing into a broad half-circle of gunfire with bullets
hitting him “like blows from a mans fist.” Arthurs shots had hurt and blackened
both his eyes. The unpadded face plate of his helmet was smashed back against
his cheeks, its top edge chopping skin from the bridge of his nose and a bolt
end ripping the side of his face. Somehow he stayed on his feet and kept
stumbling forward, his weakened legs and smashed right foot supporting the
fantastic weight of his armour.” (Ian Jones; A Short Life)
See what I mean?
Later, when Kelly is captured, the Helmet
is removed to reveal what it was doing to Neds face, and Shaw records this in
clinical detail, but in these quotes you see the skill of Ian Jones,
incorporating those same facts into the narrative to bring it to life.
So I
ploughed on through the book hoping that perhaps Shaws particular obsession
with Glenrowan rather than other events in the story would lead to an analysis
of what Glenrowan was really all about, because there are still many unanswered
questions about the entire incident. What was Ned REALLY hoping to achieve
there? What WERE those rockets intended to signify? Why Glenrowan and not some other town? What would the outcome have
been if it had all gone to plan? Exactly how and where were those mouldboards turned into armour, and where did the inspiration for the armour come from? What
about the “Republic”? Were the Police REALLY as trigger-happy as some make out or were
there just a few nutjobs among them? What about those persisting rumours about
Dan and Steve - did they poison themselves, commit suicide with their revolvers
or escape? What about Ann Jones being a collaborator, about the shadowy band of
sympathizers lurking on the fringes….so many questions!
Sadly, I was again disappointed, not only
to read passages that were screaming out for elaboration and explanation, but
also to read what Shaw passed off as some sort of attempt at analysis:
“Ultimately though, Glenrowan is the story
of an incident given historical significance by the reactions of a number of
individuals responding to a specific set of circumstances. These circumstances
were generated partly by social, political and economic inequalities that had
grown and festered in Colonial Victoria. Ned through his personal and natural
leadership qualities was the lightening rod that brought a lot of these issues
to a head, partly through what he and others read into what were really just a
series of criminal events.”
This last paragraph is so vague and so
sweeping a generalization that it is true of almost everything in the universe
– and therefore empty; substitute “Glenrowan” and the other proper nouns for
any other thing you care to name – “The Cricket test at the MCG”, or “The discovery of chalk” or “Facebook ” - and it remains true, but
explains absolutely nothing.
The books subtitle is "The siege that shaped a nation" but there is precious little discussion of how that is true, if indeed it is. One is left wondering.....
So for me at least, this is where the book
fails. It details everything with precision but you are left without any real
understanding of what actually happened,
and without a sense of the drama and the horror and the great chaos of human
endeavor that makes this subject such an awful and hypnotic moment in the
history of Australia. This was the weekend where the great legend of Ned Kelly sprang
impossibly out of the squalid history of
poverty, the hateful criminality and outrages of the Kelly gang, the moment of longed for redemption for the
whole lot of them, but if this was the
only book ever written about it, nobody would have ever known.
2 Stars.
2 Stars.