Customer Reviews

POOR FELLOW MY COUNTRY

5 star:		(7)
4 star:		(0)
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2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

Before people get upset with me for saying this is Australia's greatest novel, let me say that I realise that it won't appeal to everyone, and perhaps especially to a younger generation less steeped in history than we were. However, whenever I am asked what is the finest piece of literature to come out of Australia, I unhesitatingly reply that this is it. It has everything that an Australian could wish for that is representative of that very eccentric land, and much more besides.

The name alone should give the alert reader something to think about. Isn't it odd? It is the starting point and central theme around which the whole turns and part of the majesty of this novel lies in that cardinal simplicity. It never gets lost. No matter into what dreamtime corner or shady southern political deal the author takes us, we understand that one central thing. And beyond that, where every truly giant novel must go ("For Whom the Bell Tolls," "Under the Volcano"), there is an underpinning of universal truth that makes us aware that this is no mere provincial affair, that Herbert is not just idly lamenting in some forgotten corner of the globe.

The other characteristic that makes it truly incomparable on the Australian scene, is that it can be read at so many levels. Herbert may be taking a hard look at many issues unresolved in the Australia of the forties and fifties, but have we come to terms with them today? And are the political shenanigans that take place in the land of Auz, so very different from those elsewhere? Whether you are interested in Australian history, or in learning something about the aborigines, or seeing the outback in all its glory, this is the book. And as for it being too long, I can almost guarantee that the reader who once gets a head of steam up, will be still be puffing like billy-o at page 1,463. And if you are still ready for more by then, well you're in luck, because Herbert wrote a further volume about life in northern Australia, "Capricornia." It is not a sequel and it is not, in my opinion, of exactly the same calibre, but it is a very fine book nonetheless. "Poor Fellow, My Country" should not be out of print, ever. It is one of those books that will endure, because it goes beyond the run of everyday storytelling into the realm of great literature.

I could just grab a thesaurus and start listing all the superlative adjectives :magnificent ,incredible etc. I read this book shortly before my 40th birthday(36 of them spent as a serious bookworm) and it topped them all. Philosophical, as the Russian classics or Thomas Mann; a great read as the best of adventure writers ( like Mark Twain or Karl May). It's a huge book ( about 1,450 pages in my paperback edition). Herbert spent years on it, pounding away on an old typewriter, sticking to a rigorous regimen of writing and exercising to keep fit. BUY IT, READ IT!

This is one of the greatest novels ever written by an Australian and certainly the greatest written about Australia. I can think of no other novel I have ever read that manages both to tell a great story and, at the same time, give so accurate and comprehensive a picture of a whole society. And I speak as an ex-pom (Englishman) who came to Oz in the late 70s and learned more about my new country from reading this novel than from anything else I have ever read. It's great to read the other positive reviews of the book listed here because, in Australia, it is still a grossly undervalued book. It was for that reason that, back in the 80s, I started researching and writing a book about Herbert's novels - with the main focus on this great final novel. In my opinion it's not only one of the greatest of Australian novels but one of the great novels of the world. Like many great novels it's not 'flawless'. Herbert's sexist and often unpleasant attitudes towards women, for instance, can be seen in his treatment of women characters and there is no question that he could have improved the book if he had been more willing to listen to advice on where and how to polish and cut. But greatness is often a matter of 'warts and all' and the 'all' is so magnificent one can put up with the warts.

For anyone interested in learning more about Herbert they might like to try my book - the only one so far to do a detailed study of this author. You can find it in Amazon.com. It's called "A long and winding road: Xavier Herbert's Literary Journey".

This book is one of the most impressive declarations of love towards a country and its people I have ever read. Xavier Herbert describes his country through the eyes of his characters and tells an absorbing story. He is painting a comprehensive picture of the land, its history and its people. His biting criticism towards imperialistic Britain and its marks on land and people on one hand, and his vast insight into the aboriginal way of life on the other, create a fascinating tension. The fact that he leaves us with more questions than answers and his own uncertainty about the future and fate of his beloved country makes this book all the more intense. 1500 pages I will never forget.

This book is one of the most impressive declarations of love towards a country and its people I have ever read. Xavier Herbert describes his country through the eyes of his characters and tells an absorbing story. He is painting a comprehensive picture of the land, its history and its people. His biting criticism towards imperialistic Britain and its marks on land and people on one hand, and his vast insight into the aboriginal way of life on the other, create a fascinating tension. The fact that he leaves us with more questions than answers and his own uncertainty about the future and fate of his beloved country makes this book all the more intense. 1500 pages I will never forget.

This book is one of the most impressive declarations of love towards a country and its people I have ever read. Xavier Herbert describes his country through the eyes of his characters and tells an absorbing story. He is painting a comprehensive picture of the land, its history and its people. His biting criticism towards imperialistic Britain and its marks on land and people on one hand, and his vast insight into the aboriginal way of life on the other, create a fascinating tension. The fact that he leaves us with more questions than answers and his own uncertainty about the future and fate of his beloved country makes this book all the more intense. 1500 pages I will never forget.

Xavier Herbert must have had a dream editor, because he got away with publishing a 1,463 page monster that should have been cut by at least a thousand pages. While Herbert's descriptions of action or the magnificent landscapes of northern Australia are well-done, he doesn't know what to do with his characters, who all come across as wooden stereotypes. They all 'represent' a type of person found in northern Australian society of the 1930s---the silent macho Ocker, the Irish publican, the Scotsman, the smart Jews, the arrogant Germans, the naive, superstitious Hindu, the sneaky Japanese, the Aboriginal medicine man, the half castes, the Catholic priest, the government bureaucrats, the supercilious British officers, the spoiled city girl, the homosexual, etc. Not one of them ever reveals an iota of inner thought, so the reader is left with simple caricatures, most of whom even talk in painstakingly spelled dialects, which, as when an Eastern European priest gives a three page speech on Church philosophy replete with every "zis", "zen" and "vy", can be excruciating. Herbert's female characters are also appallingly narrow and stereotyped---the author borders on the misogynistic. None of them appear the least bit real. Herbert uses a lot of Aboriginal words and phrases, the accuracy of which might be questioned if his Hindi is anything to go by. Herbert's female characters are appallingly narrow and stereotyped--his picture of women verges on the misogynistic. A half-caste boy of ten may be endowed with great bush skills, but his disposal of his main enemies strained my credulity to the breaking point. Herbert's tendency to kill off characters when he has no more use for them, or doesn't know how to proceed, is also a sign of over-ambitious writing. I didn't like this book for another reason. Herbert makes repeated calls for an independent Australia. I would hardly argue with that; it's a positive point. But in his search for what an independent Australia might look like, he flirted too much with fascism, rejecting only because of its violence and anti-Semitism. Is that all that is wrong with fascism? If you are looking for a good novel, this is definitely not it. But to be fair, POOR FELLOW MY COUNTRY does have one virtue. Herbert's ideas about Australian society, Australia's past and possible future are interesting and at the time of publication (mid-1970s) practically unique. One can read this book as a kind of (overlong) polemic on the evils of the white Australian relationship to the land and to the Aborigines. That is the only reason I would read this book. Believe me, it is a long, long slog.

This book is as important to Australians, as Shakespeare and Dickens are to the British, as Mark Twain and Gore Vidal are to the Americans. It is monumental. I had the original hardback of this book; but didn't read it. Finally many years later I have read it. I plan to reread it again this year. A magnificent effort and epic of a novel.