The Last Free Man and Other Stories

I read Lewis Woolston's 2nd book of short stories over the recent Christmas break. It was an appropriate read for the time of year as Australia lived through the trials of nature doing what nature wanted to do in terms of putting us in our place. The tales mostly took place in a place where nature ruled supreme. The same applies to this anthology

The Australia Day long weekend seemed another appropriate time to get stuck into Lewis' debut. Not long after the Christmas deluge in north Qld had ended, they copped it again. A cyclone and the aftermath of that, flooding, hit Townsville and the north. The Australia Day Wet Weekend. A perfect time to read about more of the eternal outback and the drifters that head there.

The Last Free Man and other stories had one tale of the wet, and that wet was a rarity for the place it happened. These are the stories of the parched and arid land on the road between Perth and Adelaide, a stretch of approximately 2,700 kilometres and 30 odd hours by car. Once past the main areas of population, it is all isolation. The aridity applies for the road between Adelaide and Darwin, 3,000 kilometres and another 30 odd hours by road. There are a few tales from the Alice, near to the drop-kick town that is Darwin as opposed to Adelaide the city of churches, a place of boredom for some.

These are the yarns about the escapees from the mainstream, those that try but can't be part of what the majority want Australian society to be. To those escaping, the mainstream is a place of confinement. Just ask the last free man, just ask Grandpa Bob, just ask the dead bloke with a needle in his arm in the middle of nowhere, they know there is freedom out there.
After reading both Lewis' books there is a feeling that they are aimed at those that are a bit blokeish, the restrained in talk kind, those that are over their youth, a youth that may not have offered that much. Many may think that the vast majority of Australia is full of bush types, the reality is that it is urban, demonstrably so, and these tales kick against that.
Lewis restrained writing style is perfect for the backdrop of each story. The tales are, in my opinion, going to be preferred by 40 plus males. Those that understand the need for their peer groups to have isolation. This is time and place reading.

The Triffids soundtrack for my read.

Well, the drums rolled off in my forehead
And the guns went off in my chest
Remember carrying the baby just for you
Crying in the wilderness
I lost track of my friends, I lost my kin
I cut them off as limbs
I drove out over the flatland
Hunting down you and him
The sky was big and empty
My chest filled to explode
I yelled my insides out at the sun
At the wide open road
It's a wide open road
It's a wide open road
So, how do you think it feels
Sleeping by yourself?
When the one you love, the one you love
Is with someone else
Then it's a wide open road
It's a wide open road
And now you can go to any place
That you want to go
I wake up in the morning
Thinking I'm still by your side
I reach out just to touch you
Then I realize
It's a wide open road
It's a wide open road
So, how do you think it feels
When sleeping by yourself?
When the one you love, the one you love
Is with someone else
I wake up in the morning
Thinking I'm still by your side (it's a wide open road)
I reach out just to touch you (it's a wide open road )
(Then I realize) it's a wide open road
It's a wide open road
It's a wide open road
It's a wide open road
It's a wide open road
It's a wide open road
It's a wide open road
It's a wide open road
It's a wide open road
It's a wide open road
It's a wide open road
And now you can go to any place
That you want to go