| A wry chronicler of society's foibles
by Michael Pollak and Margaret MacNabb
Sydney Morning Herald, 29 November 2003
Hesba Brinsmead, who died this week in the NSW North Coast town of
Murwillumbah after a long illness, was one of Australia's most important
writers for children and young adults. Throughout her 81 years, she wrote on
a wide variety of subjects, and in her 24 books pushed the boundaries of the
children's genre.
Brinsmead's most famous book remains her first, Pastures of the Blue
Crane, published in 1964. This novel, set in the Tweed district, won the
Children's Book of the Year Award and the Mary Gilmore Award, and achieved
an international reputation. She also won a Children's Book of the Year
Award for her landmark Longtime Passing (1971), the first of a
semi-autobiographical trilogy set in the Blue Mountains.
Pastures of the Blue Crane was also the source of one of the first
mini-series on ABC television. It is a coming-of-age story about a teenage
girl, Ryl Merewether. Ryl is all alone in the world - or so she thinks -
when she suddenly inherits a rundown shack in northern NSW, which comes
complete with a crusty old grandfather and some other surprising relatives
she didn't know about.
In this little adventure story, Brinsmead tackles many big issues,
including the irresponsible property development ruining the pristine Tweed
coastline, and the casual racism, sexism and narrow-minded conformity of
Australian society.
Brinsmead was a generation ahead of her time as an environmentalist,
being an early campaigner for Lake Pedder and the Franklin. She led the way
as a sensitive and wry commentator on Australian society, a chronicler of
pioneering days, a keen and witty observer of family life, and was among the
first authors to tackle indigenous issues. She was a valiant writer, who
overcame adversities that would have stumped a lesser person.
Hesba Fay Hungerford was born in the tiny Blue Mountains settlement of
Berambing in what was then the remotest of wildernesses. All her life, Hesba
was known as "Pixie" to her friends and family. The nickname suited her
spritely personality, her will-o'-the-wisp frame and her sparkling
demeanour.
The distant fifth of five children, she had an often lonely childhood.
She was not sent to school until she was well into her teens, and by then
she was already doing paid work at her father's sawmill. But the family were
great readers, and she decided when she was young to become a writer. This
was a dream that was with her always but was not fulfilled until she was a
Melbourne housewife in her 40s and the mother of two sons.
From her childhood in the mountains came the Longtime stories. In
these books, she writes about her unusual home life - her parents, failed
missionaries, were ill-matched, and her father struggled with depression all
his life. The stories are very much about how children cope with the
vagaries and broken dreams of the adults in their lives. These books can be
enjoyed by children as adventure stories, and by adults as a caustic
exploration of family life, not unlike the work of such acerbic wits as
Nancy Mitford.
The Longtime series tells of the long, and often tragic, history
of the mountains - the convict labourers, the struggles of the first
settlers - and, of course, about their long Aboriginal past. Brinsmead,
years before such issues were intelligently addressed, tells about the
Aboriginal heritage of the mountains such as sacred sites, spiritual beliefs
and a world view so different from that of the white settlers who displaced
them.
Brinsmead spent the first few years of her married life in rural
Victoria. During the darkest days of World War II, she and her husband Reg
set up their first home at Wycheproof.
After the war, the couple moved to Nunawading, which at the time was a
semi-rural area of outer-eastern Melbourne. As she settled into the role of
mother to her sons, Ken and Bernie, and helping Reg to run his weed-spraying
business, she decided it was time to fulfil her childhood ambition. She
mustered every spare moment she could to jot down thoughts. She became, as
she later put it, "one of those people who is always scribbling - like those
women who are always knitting, I always had a notebook on my lap". She felt
her creativity was enhanced by movement, so she always wrote the first draft
of her books on the run. She worked out plots in coffee shops, in doctors'
waiting rooms, or at the beach.
In 1975, after having travelled to northern NSW on many occasions, she
and her husband moved to the Tweed coast, settling in a gracious
Queenslander in Terranora. From the veranda of the sprawling property, there
were panoramic views of the Gold Coast to the north and to Mount Warning
near Nimbin to the south. These vistas were breathtakingly beautiful yet
Brinsmead became increasingly concerned by the rampant housing developments,
in Terranora and beyond, which she felt were destroying a tranquil way of
life.
The titanic environmental struggles in Tasmania are the cornerstone for
much of Brinsmead's work. These "Tasmanian" books began in 1965 with the
novel Season of the Briar, which depicts weed sprayers causing havoc
through the countryside. This was the first of several stories set in a
state which she got to know intimately, thanks to her brother-in-law, Ron
Brown, a long-serving independent state MP who campaigned tirelessly for
conservation.
In 1972 came Echo in the Wilderness, set on Lake Pedder on the eve
of its destruction. Much of her writing, and her life, was consumed by her
need to do something about the environmental vandalism in Tasmania, and in
her 1983 book, I Will Not Say the Day is Done, she brought to life
all the personalities involved in the Pedder struggle. (This humble book has
a foreword by a then equally humble environmental activist named Bob Brown
of the Tasmanian Wilderness Society.)
One of Brinsmead's most ambitious novels was The Ballad of Benny
Perhaps (1977). This story of a young drifter is set in an unspecified
outback mining town and deals with youth's hopelessness, mandatory
sentencing, racial prejudice, alcoholism and the grinding despair that so
often prevails among society's rejects. It's a story about human folly and
human dreams, and it is increasingly recognised as one of the lost
masterpieces of Australian literature.
Brinsmead suffered from osteoporosis for most of her adult life, and was
often in great pain. She finally stopped writing in the late 1980s because
it became impossible for her to sit at a typewriter. Just over two years
ago, because of her poor health and frailty, and after long resistance, she
finally had to leave her Terranora house and move to a serviced apartment at
a retirement village at Murwillumbah.
She is survived by her ex-husband Reg, who remained a close friend when
they finally divorced after many years spent living cheerfully separate
lives, her sons Bernie and Ken, her grandchildren Regina, Faye, Gabrielle
and Simon and great-granddaughter Eleanor Rose.
Michael Pollak and Margaret MacNabb are the authors of the biography
Days Never Done: The Life and Work of Hesba Fay Brinsmead (Unity
Press, 2002). |