For sixteen years two Melbourne women, friends and co-workers at a local pub, have played hostess to two Queensland men, cane cutters who come south each December to escape the wet season. For five months these unconventional couples co-habit in a run-down old house in a seedy part of Melbourne, and live the high life, spending the mens’ pay packets on horse racing, alcohol and partying. Every year, the men present Olive with the gift of a Kewpie doll, which she greatly prizes and keeps as a memento of their fun times together.
In Year 17, things are different: some months previously one of the women, Nancy, has left the house to get married, and one of the men, Roo, arrives flat broke, having walked away from his job some weeks earlier. Olive has arranged for her friend and fellow barmaid, Pearl, to move into Nancy’s room in the hope that she and Barney will hit it off and resume the kind of happy-go-lucky lifestyle the two couples previously enjoyed. The previously strong friendship between the cane cutters is under stress, as their lives begin to diverge in unforeseen ways. All of these background factors combine to produce the tensions which unfold on stage in this landmark 1955 Australian play.
After sixteen years of seasonal frivolity and boozing, these people are no longer young. They are all around 40 years of age, and human frailties are beginning to appear. Roo has become disillusioned with the lifestyle of the seasonal workmen, and seeks for himself a more stable life, including a regular job and marriage. Barney is horrified at this act of disloyalty, as he clings to the ideal of the blokey mateship of the Australian bush. This divergence puts great strain on their long term friendship. Disillusioned with Barney's feckless nature, Pearl walks out.
Barney is not the only one to hold tenaciously to a lifestyle which is under threat. Olive’s disgust with Nancy’s betrayal emerges early in Act 1, and she is determined to ensure that the celebration and fun will continue in the seventeenth year. Her unwillingness to accede to the winds of change reveals a deep immaturity in her nature, which is played out in the most poignant scene of this drama.
Sixty years on from its premiere, how do we view Summer of the Seventeenth Doll? I think we have to look at it in its historical context. The 1950s in Australia was a time of deep conservatism, with Melbourne known as the City of Wowsers, for its strait-laced mores and narrow-minded insularity. The post-war Baby Boom was in full swing. What Ray Lawler did, in presenting this play to the public of that era, was ground-breaking. He challenged the conventions of the day by presenting people from the lower rungs of the social ladder, talking in the broad accents of the Australian vernacular. That these two couples were very happy ‘living in sin’ for five months each year for 16 years would have been deeply shocking to the well-off, middle class theatre goers of 1955.
For a reader of the play in 2015, the script is mildly interesting and the staging rather dull. The play’s enduring value lies more in its capacity to illuminate a part of recent Australian history, and to present us with a damning critique of the conservative thinking of the 1950s.