The Paradoxical Life of the Australian Outback

The Paradoxical Life of the Australian Outback

Life in the Outback is a true paradox. Bush life is truly a strange twist of beauty and savagery, of loneliness and mateship, of tragedy and triumph. For every fearful mother, alone in the darkness, there is also a merry band of strangers, sharing in the joys of boiled cabbage.

The paradox of Australia’s greatest frontier is perhaps best highlighted by two vastly different stories of Australian hardiness, We of the Never-Never by Jeannie Gunn, and “The Drover’s Wife” by Henry Lawson. We of the Never-Never begins with the proud declaration that “we who have lived in it, and loved it, and left it, know that our hearts can Never-Never rest away from it” (Gunn, xii), while “The Drover’s Wife” depicts the almost overwhelming struggle to make a life in the bush, and the settlers’ resolve to get out, with the husband’s intending to “move his family into the nearest town, when he comes back” (Lawson 6).

In We of the Never-Never, one of the most prominent themes is the mateship that is displayed – even among complete strangers. When a lone swagman comes across the camp, he is welcomed with food and friendship, invited by the camp fire to enjoy boiled cabbage and tell tall tales. To starkly contrast this, “The Drover’s Wife” makes it clear that strangers are not the merry, respectful, and charmingly uncivilized legends that much of Australian culture tends to depict them as. Rather, swagmen are depicted as something to be wary of, even feared at times. The lone mother sees them as “suspicious looking strangers” with “gallows-face[s]”(Lawson 8), showing that she perceives them as possibly criminals, and while she still provides him a meal, he seems to have more foul ambitions when he demands a place to sleep. Instead of regaling in the making of damper, she forces him to leave, batten in hand and snarling dog at her side.

In another sharp contrast to the mateship displayed in We of the Never-Never, life for the nameless drover’s wife is lonely. Not just because her husband, a drover, has left “his wife and children here alone” but also because, as seen in vivid descriptions of a dismally bleak environment clearly shown to be lacking in natural resources, with “nothing to relieve the eye save the darker green of a few sheoaks… [and an] almost waterless creek”, her all encompassing “bush all round – bush with no horizon” is barren of any natural life or human contact (Lawson, 3). This woman of the bush lives in desolation, reminiscent of how early arctic explorers were almost driven mad by the sheer nothingness surrounding them, the woman is seen to have suffered at the sheer lack of quite literally anything lively in her environment, with “all her girlish hopes and aspirations [being] long dead” (Lawson, 6). Where the development of the bush is pronounced in We of the Never-Never, with the swagman stating, “can’t travel a hundred miles nowadays without running into somebody!”(Gunn, 181), the sheer desolation that is still felt is even more strongly emphasized in “The Drover’s Wife”, with the woman even “[riding] nineteen miles for assistance, carrying her dead child” (Lawson, 7).

The trials and tribulations of outback settlers are also portrayed quite differently, with characters contemplating and expressing tragedies in different ways. For the struggling drover’s family, the wife quietly contemplates how “the drought of 18 – ruined [her husband]. He had to sacrifice the remnant of his flock an go droving again”, forcing them to stay in the outback, rather than being able to scrounge together enough money to move to a town (Lawson 6). The results of tragedies such as drought are shown to have lasting, dire consequences that have a tangible effect on victims. Rather than being able to thrive in a town, safely surrounded by other people, the drover’s wife fights off snakes, bulls, crows, and swagmen all by herself. It is implied that, because of tragedy, the woman’s husband must leave his family for months on end, causing the immense struggle his wife deals with daily. In comparison, when the cheery swagman recounts his tales of hardships, he is described as “reminiscing” as if he is recounting events rather fondly, as if the tragedies of the past have not left him scarred. He tells tales with “warmth”, seemingly unfazed and no worse for wear (Gunn 181). Where the long lasting and high stakes risks of living in the outback are expressed in “The Drover’s Wife”, We of the Never-Never treats these events as much less precarious; consistently throughout the story, characters remain cheerful and friendly, and not much seems to bother them. This contributes to the story having a very relaxed, very low-stakes tone. The most troubling conflict in the excerpt was the woman’s comical attempts at making a damper. The drover’s wife, however, is fighting for her life.

All of these contrasts come together to paints a picture of how life can be so paradoxical in the outback. One may ask how some outback settlers can be so joyous while others are so miserable. How can some people love the outback so dearly while other want nothing more than to get as far away from it as possible. These stories, when looked at together, show that this stunning contrast lies in the relationship people have with the outback. While some, such as Jeannie Gunn, embrace the outback and its’ cast of characters, others, such as the drover’s wife, revile and fear it. Some choose to take on the outback together, finding camaraderie in a shared dream for independence and prosperity in an unsettled land. Others live in the outback because they have no other choice, nowhere else to go, and no way to escape. In this way, even wildly diverse people of the outback are paradoxical themselves, with not one swagman being the same as another.

Looking closely however, in the end, we see that similarities rule all walks of outback life. Across both stories, it is no doubt that the outback is a character in itself, be that a brutal and unfeeling antagonist, or a respected force of nature. But no matter how one may look at the strange world of the bush, no matter what one’s relationship with the outback is, most never leave it; for better or for worse, as Gunn puts it, “our hearts can Never Never rest away from it” (Gunn xii).