The thirty good priests

13 July 2010

National caricature: a note In Fitzroy, in Melbourne, in the wild Southern Hemisphere, I got to talking one day to a young man who ran a bookstore. We started out talking about great writers from our countries, Which led to fine writers people inside the country knew but Outsiders generally didn't, the sort of writer that speaks right To his or her fellows but somehow doesn't translate too well, Which led to a discussion of national characters, and we both Considered most talk of national character to be total silliness, Which is why so much cultural portrayal of national character Is mere caricature, right? Your Rambo, our Crocodile Dundee, He said. The tram groaned and squealed and grumbled outside. But a caricature needs seeds of truth, yes? We are both bloody. Independence too much of a virtue, frightened former colonies, And there was always so much land still to snatch and harness, Until there isn't, and then what? Reinvention takes a long time. Maybe that's why we love some writers who aren't so famous, Because they are trying to grow new things from the old seeds. The most famous writers are famous because they manufacture What you want, not what you didn't know you wanted. Maybe. One thing I have learned selling books is that I don't know any Thing at all about why people buy books. But I have had folks Right here in the store telling me about a book that nailed them, That really cut into some deep new place inside them — so often About here, you know — about this place and people, about how The ways we used to be might grow into ways we will get to be. So you want to buy something? Ever hear of Roger McDonald? The Thirty One time I was sitting on a high hill in Australia, This was a year when my marriage was teetering, And a priest strolled out of the nearby monastery And sat down companionably on the cedar bench And didn't say anything, for which I was grateful Beyond words. Parrots rocketed by and a possum Scrabbled in a pine tree. The brush-tailed possum, Said the priest finally, while dedicated to its mate, Devotes a good part of its time to solitary pursuits, The speculation among scientists being that this is Healthy for both partners, who come to each other With fresh information, as it were. I didn't answer Him directly and he didn't press the point, and our Talk turned to rugby and oysters, and off we went, Each to his own pursuits; I never forgot that bench, Though. For every greedy evil rapacious liar priest I

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The thirty good priests

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