BOOKS AND PREFERENCE

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1847, 31 July 1907, Page 30

BOOKS AND PREFERENCE

MR BUCHANAN'S AUSTRALIA.

Of critios and criticism there is jo end, and Australia does not eecape the common lot. This is a wholesome thing. ■with certain reserves. The trouble lies in the fact that so jnany irresponsible or merely careless writers present themselves as critics: and of these also (in Australia as elsewhere) there is no end. Latest and not most notable of these is Mr Alfred Buchanan.. Mr Buchanan has been for some years engaged in newspaper work in the Commonwealth, and he has put the sum of his impressions and ideas into a_book /•The Real Australia"; ' . Fisher. Unwin. The impressions seem to have been superficial or blurred; the ideas, m so tar 'as they, ara novel or truly personal, have not ripened. into value. Here is Mr Buchanan's position in epitome. He writes, often'enough, with obvious and disfiguring bias; his deductions are commonly faulty, his arguments incoherent. And he is a reckless writer always, clogged in the groove o± routine; given to tiie snarl with' which inadequacy girds at a thing or task beyond its compass. The book does not tell us much of Australia, but it makes astonishing revelations of Mr Alirecl Buchanan, who might have been more happily introduced. “Strictly speaking," says Mr Buchanan, “there is no such thing as national character." From that admirable basis, which is at least his own, he begins to scold, and scolds repeatedly and absurdly through 311 tedious pages. Ho is sometimes querulous, often spiteful, and always rather snobbish. His reading of political history seems to be as misleading to himself as his occasionally curious English may be to the rapid reader. “.Politically, the Australians are the most exclusive and the most inhospitable race on earth. Their only rivals in this respect must be looked for among the bottled-xip confucians of China, or the mysterious Buddhists of Thibet. The 'white-ocean' policy of the Federal Parliament, no less than the present Immigration Restriction Act, with its humorous travesty of .an education test, is the most glaring instance of political bigotry that has come to light in modern times." This wanton claptrap is very cheap, an'd very foolish; but it is calculated to mislead the uninformed, and it is a fair example of Mr Buchanan's method and style. As regards what may be called political exclusiveness, the United States go further than Australia has gone; but the United States Mr Buchanan does not mention. Instead, he gives us ''the bottled-up Confucians" (whatever they may be) and the ''mysterious Buddhists" of Thibet—who really have no place in any reasonable argument on the facts/ That sort of thing is very easy and very safe, because no sane person ever takes that 6ort of thing seripusly. When Mr Buchanan tells ns that “the only topic on which the Australians, as a people, hold any definite opinions, is that, of sport," there is no occasion for any comment but a smile. When, having assured us that, “strictly speaking, there, is no such thing as national character," he tells us that “the most per-, vading phase of Australian character is its irresponsibility,” We are still greatly amused. And we are driven to wonder what sort of Australians Mr Buchanan can have moved among, when he bears testimony concerning the '•Aus tralian that—“lt is the commonest occurrence in the world to find him talking and boasting, jesting and laughing, over that about which he should be . most inexorably dumb. Of his successes with women, of his breakages of the seventh commandment, of his nights at bridge' or in a public-house, of his supposed power of cajoling man, woman, or child —and. more especially woman — he will talk as long and as often as he can get an audience to listen to him. The;, larger the audience, the better he is. pleased." On the whole, the Australians whose disadvantage it is to be classed of Mr . Buchanan's acquaintance, may ,feel some reasonable annoyance. But the others can still smile. . Mr Buchanan is a rather terrible ex- . ample, of 'the. loquacious young man of small parts injudiciously let loose. “In L this continent," he assures us, ' all so- . cial currents follow their own bent. There is no attempt to make people . moral by Act of Parliament." Dear, dear!

And so we may pass the chapters on "Virtues and Vices/ - ’ “Society/ - ’ “The Game of Politics” (very tedious and trumpery, this), and come to what, for purposes of easy classification, may be called tho literary sections. There is a chapter on Journalism. (“The people who are connected with journalism in Australia, as elsewhere, fall naturally into. three glasses—manager®, sub-edi-tors, and newspaper-writers,” says the dear man.) Here Mr Buchanan assumes .that, he knows something, and he begs that the “outside public” will “submit to be informed.” Of the managers he speaks flattering wjrds, an befits a good pressman in a naughty world. The sub-editors, one is delighted to hear, “form - a class by themselves,” and “are not really journalists. As a matter of fact they are the sworn enemies of journalism.” With the evidence of Mr Buchanan’s journalistic abilities before us, it is a pleasant thing to hear him complain that the sub-editor “must be a man without pity and without remorse.” And of the journalists (whose existence . is-admitted) it is inspiring to learn that “they have one standard of living, unorthodoxy _ono bond of fellowship, BohemianisnCan it be that Mr Alfred Buchanan is a humourist? And there is a chapter headed 'T&eudoT iterary.” Wo are informed, again. Australia is without literature; and again, from that baris, the literature of Australia is discussed. V.e hay a -’fair 4 indication of • Mr Buchanan s

quality as critic..in. the lines he selects for special approval: “When the scene is lighted brightly, and we watch the, players nightly, The peasant, and the prince, and the page" There is further indication in Mr. Buchanan's attitude to “Steele Rudd. There are several pages, full of nauseous patronage, bitter with bias but. by pretence kind. Of the true “Steele Rudd, ' the strength, the poignancy, and charm of him, Mr Buchanan has obviously no suspicion. The young man has neither eyes nor ears, but gets bis sensations dully through his skin, and “Steele Rudd” leaves him cold: There need be no special complaint as to that, since every man is essentially the creature of his limitations. Bnt in Mr Buchanan's attitude to the sanest and cleanest of Australia's popular writers, there is ground for very grave complaint indeed. “Steele Rudd's" stalwart humanity and strong gentleness . may well laugh at such vain assaults. Mr Buchanan cannot see much, and he cannot feel gnerously. Seeing the glimmer of a jewel astray, he immediately imagines a midden reeking in the sun. Critically, his appreciation of verse and prose is inferior and childish, but he evermore roars his readiness to hurl Jove's thunders. Such thunders hurled awry are lees impressive than milk spilt out of a pot, and so Mr Buchanan provokes the assumption that he would not be impressive as a dairyman. Australia, on the whole, may still survive. “Strictly speaking, no such thing as national character." Dear, dear!