The Glass Canoe

There is little doubt that this 1976 novel documents a way of life now gone. Remnants remain, of course, especially in smaller, more isolated communities in New Zealand and Australia, but no longer exactly like this.

Having written my rambling review below, I was compelled to return to the start to advise that some of the rambling below could be construed as spoilers.

Through the eyes of Lance, or Meat Man as he is known due to the endowment of a readily guessed part of his anatomy, author David Ireland describes the events in and around The Southern Cross - a pub in a typical Sydney suburban setting. The regulars in the bar, referred to as a tribe feature heavily, as does what I would describe as pub philosophy, where not only Meat Man shares his thoughts on life, but he collects the thoughts of the other regulars. Lance works as a grounds keeper on a nearby golf course, but mostly his life is dedicated to spending time in the pub.

“The next tribe west drank at the Bull, and on the other side the nearest tribe holed up at the Exchange ... you never went walkabout to another tribe's waterhole. Unless there was trouble.”“And now and then, as they drank deeply, they saw in the bottom of the glass, not the face of the man they knew, but the monster within that was waiting and all too willing to be released.”“On hot days we jumped fully clothed into our bottomless beer glasses and pushed off from the shore without a backward look. Heading for the deep where it was dark and cool.”“I went to the bar and got us a small fleet of glass canoes to take us where we wanted to go . I thought of the tribes of Australia, each with its waterhole, its patch or bar, its standing space, its beloved territory.”

The Cross

his Darling

The Cross

“Blackie [the pub dog] let him pass without getting to his feet. You don't fight a three-legged dog.”“The car saw the pub and pulled over to the outside lane. It was ten past six in the morning. ‘Silly old bugger,' I told the car. ‘Won't be open till ten.'““The boxer turned and walked away up the street with great dignity, but not too slowly. Blackie [the pub dog] followed him for perhaps twenty metres, seeing him off his spread, then turned and walked slowly home.In the pub, you saw the same piece of theatre. Down to the harmless look, the no staring, no frowning, the slight cough to indicate weakness and mortality, the shoulders unassumingly slumped, the eyebrows raised to accompany the favour of a beer received from the barmaid, the slow gestures, the looking away, when the locals turned to see who the stranger was in enemy territory, so they got a good look but no confronting examination. And not a word spoken.”

I have read 4 of David Irelands books in the last year and am an unabashed admirer. I recall writing in my review of his The Unknown Industrial Prisoner that I related to a few of the characters in the book from working experiences in factories etc. In the same way I can relate to many of the character's from the Glass Canoe. I have worked with these blokes, I have had the occasional beer with a few of them.

The life that David Ireland wrote about is not as present in Australian cities such as Sydney anymore. Certainly not in Brisbane where I live. In the 1970's though, pubs and their people, Tribes is the label Ireland uses, were common. Plenty of blokes had a regular where they became a tribal fixture, part of the pubs furniture, a subculture. This book is written about that subculture in a Sydney suburban pub called the Southern Cross. It was written at a time that this subculture was being forced to change and also to move. The book in fact highlights that change in some subtle ways that highlight the wonderful observations of the author. As an example the narrator, Meat Man, uses a mixture of Imperial and Metric measurements when telling his tales. All drinking is Imperial. Schooner glasses are 15 ounces. Pot glass consisted of 10 ounces of beer. We even get blokes drinking 5 ounce beers. This is the old lifestyle of the tribe. Drinking for a past they know. But when Meat Man goes to work on the golf course all is metric. He even at times talks metric when driving his car.

For me personally this has been a look into a past world I only caught a glimpse of in my youth. A male mono cultural world, a world that back then was collapsing even if I did not notice that change. Over time this world has almost certainly disappeared in the capital cities of Australia's states. Those that remember are now old and I suspect unhappy with the present multicultural Australia. The pub they knew is “trendy” and serves “craft” beers. They are even family friendly and are almost like restaurants.

Ireland's book could now, many years after writing, be considered a historical recognition of that subculture and that in my opinion is very important. Yes it is alcoholic, misogynist and violent with some characters being racist. But all this existed and I for one am glad that Ireland brings life to that world through this superb novel.