Black Duck: A Year at Yumburra

by Bruce Pascoe

Sometimes you need to repeat something a hundred times before a bell rings in the colony.
From the bestselling author Bruce Pascoe comes a deeply personal story about the consequences and responsibility of disrupting Australia's history. When Dark Emu was adopted by Australia like a new anthem, Bruce found himself at the centre of a national debate that often focussed on the wrong part of the story. But through all the noise came Black Duck Foods, a blueprint for traditional food growing and land management processes based on very old practices. Bruce Pascoe and Lyn Harwood invite us to imagine a different future for Australia, one where we can honour our relationship with nature and improve agriculture and forestry. Where we can develop a uniquely Australian cuisine that will reduce carbon emissions, preserve scarce water resources and rebuild our soil. Bruce and Lyn show us that you don't just work Country, you look, listen and care. It's not Black Duck magic, it's the result of simply treating Australia like herself. From the aftermath of devastating bushfires and the impact of an elder's death to rebuilding a marriage and counting the personal cost of starting a movement, Black Duck is a remarkable glimpse into a year of finding strength in Country at Yumburra.

Genres: Nonfiction, Memoir, Audiobook, Indigenous, Biography Memoir, Biography, Environment

319 pages, Kindle Edition

Published March 26, 2024

About the author

Bruce Pascoe was born of Bunurong and Tasmanian Aboriginal heritage in the Melbourne suburb of Richmond and graduated from the University of Melbourne with a Bachelor of Education. He is a member of the Wathaurong Aboriginal Co-operative of southern Victoria and has been the director of the Australian Studies Project for the Commonwealth Schools Commission.

Bruce has had a varied career as a teacher, farmer, fisherman, barman, fencing contractor, lecturer, Aboriginal language researcher, archaeological site worker and editor.

He won the Fellowship of Australian Writers' Literature Award in 1999 and his novel Fog a Dox (published by Magabala Books in 2012), won the Young Adult category of the 2013 Prime Minister's Literary Awards.
Source: http://brucepascoe.com.au/about/

Reviews

[Ron Brown · Rating 4 out of 5]

Many people don’t realise that Pascoe is the author of over twenty books. I have read several of this, one-time teacher’s work. “Salt” is a favourite with a fascinating and well written collection of short stories. While “Dark Emu” is a fascinating read. Pascoe does mention the horrendous attacks he suffered by the right-wing media, especially the claque of hyenas who inhabit the miasma of the Murdoch media. I saw Andrew Bolt commented about Black Duck on his TV program. You could tell that he hadn’t read the book, which to me, is the greatest insult to yourself when you pass judgement on a text that you haven’t even read. Enough, I hate giving oxygen to these journalistic bottom feeders.

Black Duck is an account of a year in the life of Pascoe, his partner Lyn and Yumburra farm, a property on far south-east Gippsland, upriver from Mallacoota where Bruce Pascoe and his partner, Lyn Harwood, run the enterprise Black Duck Foods.

Pascoe is an accomplished storyteller, and this book is an amalgam of personal reflections, descriptions of his partner, children, grandchildren, friends, acquaintances and associates. Pascoe endears himself to the reader through his conversational style. He has great affection for members of his community. Pascoe was a teacher and when he mentions a local person he will off-handily quip, “I use to teach him.”

There is a great line where he is writing about the school he taught in, “The school kept losing principals to the point where Oscar Wild would’ve called it careless.”

An aspect of the book that I loved and appreciated was his empathetic descriptions and account of the wildlife that visited Yumburra over the year, plovers, eagles, swifts, ducks, cockatoos, magpies. He describes a pair of dingoes attack a kangaroo. The reader can hear in Pascoe’s writing a love and concern for all the fauna and flora. Naturally he has a love for domesticated animals. He writes of a dog now passed.

Themes that run through the book were the death of Gurandji man, Uncle Max, the devastating fires of 2019/20 and the effect on the community and the growing traditional indigenous foods controlled by Aboriginal people.

He gets numerous visitors to the farm, and he is often travelling around Australia to attend symposiums, discussions, writers’ festivals, interviews, and filming demands. That was one aspect of Pascoe’s life that I would happily leave with him. People who he meets and gains from he writes about, those who just demand and take he subtly passes over. He is contemptuous of those who wish to parrot the traditional white account of settlement and Aboriginal life.

In my experience death is an ever-present experience in Aboriginal communities and this is very much the case around Mallacoota. Pascoe is regularly attending funerals of indigenous and non-indigenous friends.

Throughout the book Pascoe tells of his interactions with the broader community on the issue of Aboriginal placement in Australian society. Sadly, he writes of his belief in the success of the Voice referendum. He encourages that rather than focusing on the West’s superior technology we should celebrate our shared humanity. There are too many Australians who curse their lips when the term Aborigines is mentioned in a sentence. There are those who scoff at any Aboriginal achievement and still argue that there was a peaceful and justified invasion and that the dispossessed are a lazy unproductive people. His description of The Australian was, “where the writing owes more to the Rottweiler than true journalism.” I doubt if any of the Murdoch pack have ever put their life on the line fighting bushfires.

The book is set in 2022 and the impact of the devastating Black Summer bushfires is still a raw and blistered. Pascoe was a member of the CFA and fought fires, yet there were many, especially in Genoa who thought the CFA had failed them. I think he found it disturbing to be the brunt of local criticism.

Pascoe addresses the issue of his identity as an Aboriginal person. Which is only an issue because of the propensity of the Murdoch’s minions to attack people rather than ideas. As he has said elsewhere, he didn’t grow up Aboriginal, but it was only when an uncle told him of his family’s history.

At times Pascoe expresses a populist right-wing view of governments and its agencies. The government ‘experts’ are nearly always wrong and unappreciative of Aboriginal lore.

I would suggest Google Map or like, and locate the area around Mallacoota.

Black Duck is a well written interesting account of the Yumburra Farm, its endeavours to produce and market indigenous food products. Finally, it gives voice to a man with ideas and beliefs that are seldom heard in mainstream media.

[S · Rating 3 out of 5]

Stoic, meandering and unhurried - this book felt like a long conversation with my 70 year old father-in-law (a lifelong farmer), complete with casual glimpses into the brutality of farm life.

The book is beautiful. It shines where it dwells on the sheer beauty of the natural environment near the author's farm and its bountiful fauna, including explanation of Indigenous language, culture and relationships. This includes The author's epic struggle over food sovereignty. The author's authenticity and vulnerability in his description of his parents, his former partner, and those who inhabit the town he loves is touchingly beautiful.

But where the book dulls is its meandering lists - of dates and visits with names, locations, travel destinations, which all seem to blur into one. It describes a world I just can't relate to, one timeless but unrecognisable. And it feels shallow - rushing quickly through complex observations worth exploring, while dwelling or repeating descriptions of proximate land, farm life and the natural world (then again, that may be the point!). This made it feel laborious to get through and leaves what I think are the most interesting reflections as either mere shallow assertions or jarring generalisations - the offhand sterotyping of male vs female gender norms in particular felt off. Which is a real shame - I loved Dark Emu and really really wanted to like this book more. The promised reflections on experience since Dark Emu are few and far between.

Overall an OK read but not one I'll come back to in a hurry.

[Jamie White · Rating 4 out of 5]

“I used to like the overseas tourists because most understood what a war looked like and many knew what a genocide looked like so they understood my story of Australia's history straight away.

Young German tourists were very interesting. They were hyper-conscious of their country's human rights record but determined never again to be part of anything like the Holocaust. They understood the Invasion of Australia in a visceral way.

Many Australian men, on the other hand, wanted to argue whether any Aboriginal people were killed and when confronted by incidents and numbers would often conclude, Well, they werent using the place anyway? My feeling is that Australia is about to leave that opinion behind, but perhaps I show too much faith.”

[caitlee · Rating 4 out of 5]

Reads like a journal, was very unrushed and I love how gentle and considered the moments of lived experience were. The dingo sightings were very powerful and special

[Hal · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not quite the deep read of Dark Emu, more autobiographical, but it was gentle and serene and I enjoyed it.

[Jane · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read this on location so to speak - I picked up a copy at the Mallacoota Arts Hub and it was an accompaniment to 6 days camping doing blissful nothing much - watching the waves break beyond the sandbar, looking out and listening to birds, sighting dolphins, rays, seals, koalas and kangaroos.

Not just a year in the life of Bruce Pascoe but also a year in the natural world told through the flow of six seasons at his property Yumburra on Yuin Country.

So much in this. Deep appreciation for the detailed observations of birds, wildlife and the natural world. Uplifting considering the slog of Pascoe’s daily life keeping roads to the property passable, enduring arduous travel for work interstate and the strength needed to develop the work of Black Duck Foods - traditional food growing and land management practices as well as continue conversations post Referendum and Dark Emu. Remarkable energy and resilience.

I bookmarked (Lyn Harwood’s?)photo of a lyrebird on p96 - the linear detailed beauty of that bird and its ability to survive the Mallacoota Black Summer fires of 2019-2020 by sheltering in wombat burrows.

[Katie Irwin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Stunning book, absolutely loved it. I found his descriptions of “a world of wild gentleness” very moving and evocative, exemplified in these quotes which really stood out:

“I am so warmed by the Old People's philosophy. The Old People took as their supreme beings such humble creatures: Wurundie, the Wood Grubs; Ganai, Blue Wren; Yuin, Black Duck; Dharub Murnong tuber. This identification with the small, the modest, holds such promise for a world which takes as its symbols the fierce and the deadly; tiger, snakes, lions, bombers, sharks. Looking close, Looking small, reveals a very different way of approaching the world.”

“I love the world deeply but we cannot demand her eternal comfort.”

It’s also deeply sad to read this in the context of the Referendum result - he writes with such a tired but firm hope and I am devastated we couldn’t live up to that generous invitation to forge a new future together.

[Margie Kelman · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was an insight into Bruce Pascoe’s daily life, his past, his thoughts and what he is passionate about. I really enjoy the way Bruce Pascoe writes - it’s easy to read and I can visualise the places, people and animals he talks about from his descriptions. It was a bit like catching up with a friend or Uncle and hearing about what’s been happening in his life since last season, with memories added in enriching the conversation all the more.

[Courtney Grace · Rating 3 out of 5]

Pretty dry but I like it.

[D'face · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was much better than I was anticipating. A journal of a year at his property and his daily dealing with farm work, animals, employees, his work on indigenous issues and being creative, his extended family and community, his pleasure in preparations for family gatherings around Christmas. A lovely account and an encouragement to me to read his other books.

[Kelly · Rating 4 out of 5]

Despite how long it took me to finish this book, it was a compelling, interesting read. Bruce Pascoe takes us along with him for a year on his farm, and boy is he a busy man! He mentions so many speaking engagements around the country, as well as all the ceremonies and other Aboriginal cultural events he attends - he must be perpetually exhausted! This is a very different book to Dark Emu, in that it is less about building a case supported with evidence, and more about expressing what it could look like if Australia embraced foods made from edible native plants and managed the land in sustainable ways, with Aboriginal people taking the lead and showing the way. It’s certainly a wonderful vision. I was particularly interested in the discussion about using fire to manage the land and to protect people and their homes from the devastating destruction of major bushfires - I think this is something we must pursue as we look to the future.

[Oliver Christie · Rating 3 out of 5]

The blurb describes the book as a reflection on Bruce's changed life after his book Dark Emu. This is not really the case, Dark Emu is just one of many minor threads that pops up during the book.

The book is essentially a lightly edited diary entry, with occasion visits to the recent past. The man's lived a rich life, so much so that he many times holds himself back from going deeper into a story saying it 'could be its own book'. The results is that there is a lack of overarching theme being developed or dramatic arc which the reader is pulled along through. Instead there are countless vignette's giving an interesting account of Bruce's extremely busy and rich life. I suppose when they went to market the book they chose to highlight the theme of reflecting on, and living after, Dark Emu, it's more a marketing choice then a reflection on the book itself.

Dark Emu is mentioned many times, but in no depth. Bruce will tell a vignette of either a positive interaction with someone showing interest or investment in First Nation knowledge and history and he will comment his joy and optimism. Likewise he'll tell a vignette of a negative interaction of the same and comment his fatigue and frustration. He likes to give these one sentence comments which are honest, straightforward but entirely lacking depth.

His fatigue and frustration is likely why he never goes into any detail when describing negative interactions. He never described what the other person said, or flesh it out into a scene, and then describe his reaction or run down his counter-points. He just sums it up quickly in a few sentences.

There could have been a book worth of his back and forth with people about Black Emu, but that was not the book Bruce wanted to write and I'm not blaming him for that, we instead see the many many important things he spends his energy on.

It's the same with the thread of Uncle Max. There's clearly an enormous amount of feeling, thoughts and stories to be told about Uncle Max and Bruce's attempts at First Nation community building before and after his death. It's clear Bruce is very torn up about the topic and chooses not to go into any depth about either his feeling or the stories surrounding it. So in both cases, Black Emu criticism and Uncle Max fallout, the two areas that would have otherwise been the sources of most conflict, and most challenging emotion and personal reflections, are treated from afar. Again I don't blame Bruce's decision here, but what we don't read is a raw, unabridged year in the man's life, the really painful, divisive parts are all cutout.

The book is indeed 'A Year at Yumburra' more than it is 'Black Duck'. Again, he could have written a book detailing the processes of the farm, how it all works, stories from the workers and larger community and fleshed it all out into a story of challenge, ups and downs and ultimately big wins for First Nation food sovereignty. Black duck was instead just one thread.

My impression the threads was thus: Bruce's love of Country and especially listening, watching and thinking about animals; First Nation food production and food sovereignty; First Nation fire land management; First Nation community building; The very busy life of an important First Nation individual; The very busy life of an important and sought after writer/historian. Lyn Harwood is mentioned on the front cover but honestly she's a minor character and in no way a dual narrator with him. Perhaps Bruce sees it differently and can't imagine this year without her even if she's seldom mentioned. These threads are wound tightly together with no room in-between. By which I mean Bruce and the story he's telling is thoroughly consistent in message and purpose, every builds on each other, there's no thread that is at odds with any other. It's one of the qualities that make him remarkable and one of the books joys. Reading about someone who has so much energy and enthusiasm and hope and purpose.

Let me talk more about the joys. It's a very light read, something easy to sit down at the end of the day. Bruce's overflowing love of Country is so energising. It's like he's making the world a richer place by describing the richness in which he experiences it. Where he lives is also not far from me, yet his country lifestyle, with his boat access feels so distant and honestly just like a ton of fun. His many vignettes are brief but rich, he's impulsive when it comes to things he loves leading to many moments of humour as well as bravery during the passages describing the bushfires.

There are points of discomfort. As a white Australian reader hearing about all the crimes of colonial Australia's history, both further in the past and very recent, are saddening. Then hearing Bruce talk about how effective First Nation food and land management was, painting that picture of abundance and perfect sustainability, and how that knowledge was splintered and quashed and the knowledge is being recovered still, is tragic.

Every thread in this book is important themes and ideas for Australians to listen to, take seriously, and carry forward with them. The content is important and timely. The execution is largely shapeless, the promotional framing misleading and overall writing style middling.

But an important story poorly told is better than the other way around.

[Scott Baird (Gunpowder Fiction and Plot) · Rating 3 out of 5]

Full review here - https://youtu.be/UPV1gc8ViAw

[Richard Thompson · Rating 3 out of 5]

I learned so much from Mr. Pascoe's other book, "Dark Emu," that I wanted a sequel. I wanted more of the same, an even deeper dive into Aboriginal culture. This is not that, though in some ways it was. It was a memoir, the story of a year Bruce Pascoe's life on his farm in the wake of the fame and controversy caused by "Dark Emu." His farm, which seems to be in the middle of nowhere, is dedicated to growing and creating a market for traditional Aboriginal foods. It seems like an obvious and great idea. Why wouldn't Australians embrace the original culture of their land? Why wouldn't they honor their first people and look for the wisdom in the practices that sustained them for a thousand years before the Europeans arrived? Australia has a fragile environment that has been much abused, so there is a even more to learn about how to repair the world from indigenous practices there than in North America.

Following "Dark Emu," Mr. Pascoe has dedicated his life to helping, promoting and celebrating Aboriginal culture. He has decided to identify as an Aboriginal. If you look at a picture of him, you can see that while he has very white skin, his features are distincly Aboriginal. All of this has brought him a boatload of grief as Australia struggles even more with racism and disrespect for its native people than North America does. On the other hand, seeing how Mr. Pascoe lives as an Aboriginal in the contemporary world does provide a sort of a sequel to "Dark Emu" by showing how some of the things discussed in the other book translate to a real life lived in the world of today.

[Gretchen Bernet-Ward · Rating 5 out of 5]

A story told with warmth and great natural charm, from family to flora and fauna and everything in between. It's easy reading and easy to be absorbed into the pages. I felt almost part of the Yamburra, Mallacoota, days events neatly woven into Bruce Pascoe's world with its natural beauty and harsh reality. I vaguely knew the area from childhood holidays but appreciated the insights and language glossary. And how I would have loved the Black Duck Food or that Spider Eggs hunt at Eastertime. The B&W photographs charmed me, especially camouflaged Terry. Being a native Aussie bird person, I enjoyed the descriptive commentaries about beautiful native birds, magpie Clark, and unwelcome starlings. Of course, there is political comment and the cruel and cavernous divide between cultures but it's not my place here to debate politics. Petty-minded systems have to change. I wonder if I will see it in my lifetime?

[Andie]

No rating as this felt more like a series of diary entries than a book - not a criticism, I thought this was a good way to give this glimpse into life at Yumburra and the life of Bruce Pascoe. Through these glimpses are conveyed the weight of responsibility of continuing and rebuilding a culture and just how much time and energy Pascoe dedicates to these things, and just how taxing this is when he is fighting against those who wish to monetise First Nations people and culture for their own gain, those who attempt to discredit his identity, and the federal and state governments. I learned a lot about what the process of rebuilding lost First Nations culture and history looks like today and what the rest of Australia needs to do to allow this to happen and to make living in this country sustainable and safe. Also lots of great bird, plant and animal talk, hammering home the importance of actively noticing the world we inhabit and the joy that this brings.

[Jeremy Martens · Rating 5 out of 5]

In this more personal reflection, we are given an insight into the daily rhythms of the author. He shares of the delights and the challenges of living on a farm alongside various flora and fauna, all with the backdrop of the fires of 2019 & 2020, which devastated the community around him.

In the 'Dark Emu' television documentary (which is referenced as 'in production' in this book), we see a side of Pascoe that is vulnerable, tossed about by politics and a nation wrestling with a revelation of its past. In this book, we see the man. One who works tirelessly for country, raising up his culture and history, and inviting all Australians to join a new 'world'.

We join his daily life, celebrating in the natural beauty, and sharing in the heartache of loss. Above all, this is a hopeful book, not flinching in the flames of hatred, but shining forth and reveling in the new days to come.

[Lewis · Rating 4 out of 5]

The majority of Black Duck's reviewers have already made it known that it is certainly a yarn - relaxed, warm, occasionally meandering, but altogether welcoming and enjoyable. I read this whilst on a road trip through Central Australia, surrounded by the beauty of the country and getting to see some of our most incredible landmarks for the first time. No better book to read in my opinion - I was filled with a deep appreciation for what such a deep connection with the land can provide, and I think what Bruce Pascoe is doing is wonderful. His optimism for a better and more loving Australia is profound, and his persistent effort to bring Indigenous culture and history to the forefront of Australian minds is nothing short of inspiring. Loved this book.

[Jessica Rijs · Rating 4 out of 5]

I don't usually go for autobiographies (or biographies at all), but this was a genuinely enjoyable read. Pascoe himself voiced the audiobook and he was a calming and pleasurable way of speaking. I wonder if I would have connected more to the book if I had known more about Pascoe and where he lived and his life generally. The book was very detailed but I think there was some assumed knowledge that I didn't have that made me feel on the outside of it a bit. I would have enjoyed more descriptions... also it probably would do one well to read Dark Emu before reading this because he reflects a lot about the backlash that book got. I still really liked it though, and am very keen to learn more about Aboriginal culture through novels - nonfiction and fiction!

[Brendan · Rating 4 out of 5]

After reading the compelling, ground breaking ideas and observations put forward in Dark Emu, followed by fierce rejection of these by certain academics, Black Duck is laced with a sadness brought on by the bitter dark emu debate as its come to be known. Still a great read and fascinating first hand account of the 2019 bushfires and their impact on the author's own farm and local community. Another excellent showcase of the ecological knowledge held by many indigenous elders and their preparedness to share this to create a better environment if only more landowners were open to indigenous teachings.

[Deb Chapman · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5. Loved this kind glimpse into Bruce Pascoe’s life and thoughts and it was especially good as an audiobook read by Bruce. (Think I missed some pictures tho so will still try and get a copy IRL. )
He shares so much of himself in this book with honesty and a comprehensiveness that is staggering. He is indefatigable and we are so blessed to have him in our midst and share so much insight and vision. What a country we could be if we listened to, and acted on, a fraction of what he has come to know, and share so thoughtfully and with humility. A national treasure and our debt to him is immeasurable. Working for “shared humanity”

[Archeilia · Rating 3 out of 5]

It’s deeply moving to read all the activities that the author has done for the indigenous community in Australia. He wrote his activities in great detail, but with a dry manner.

However, maybe it is the reality. The things he did feels long, difficult, tedious, and slow. But that’s probably how he created ripples, by doing those things consistently with intention. He conveyed his feelings as well, and it certainly made me think a lot about how the system works against indigenous community and continue to erode their spirit.

It’s a thought-provoking book, but I am not a big fan of the writing style.

[Laura Joy · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book feels like sitting down and having a yarn with an old friend who is updating you on their life. I feel privileged to have had this opportunity to glimpse the life and mind of one of Australia's elders.

I just finished reading Dark Emu before I picked this up, looking for more of the same. This isn't Dark Emu, but my experience of the book was definitely enhanced by having just finished it.

[Andrew Mellor · Rating 4 out of 5]

The important and insightful parts of this story of Bruce’s are its ad hoc teachings of Indigenous culture. While the story is nice and it takes you through a year in the life of Bruce, including Black Summer (2019-20 Bushfires) and the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, but it’s really the teachings of the way Indigenous people farmed and lived off the land and cared for the land that we need to give to our children to remember for the future and to make a positive change.

[Jessica Martin · Rating 5 out of 5]

A really gorgeous book, like every other review says, that feels like a yarn. It feels often at times less like a novel and more like you’re talking to Bruce Pascoe. Some really insightful gems on reclamation of Indigenous food culture, exploration of connection to country, re-establishing traditional land management and caring for Country.

I must admit I have yet to read Dark Emu so now I feel I shall go into it with the voice of a friend in my ear.

[Joe Kelly · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a book that spoke directly to my soul and further unpacked a deep dissolution I have with ‘life’ in the city. I thank you Bruce and Lyn for your work on this honest text. I hope to see the farm and continue to learn alongside my family and yours into the future.

I wish you all the best and many more years at Yumburra.

[Caitlin · Rating 4 out of 5]

A lovely look into the man who changed the history of Australia. I loved the descriptions of the ever present wildlife who are background characters throughout. This is not Dark Emu part 2, this is essentially a diary of a year in the life of Bruce and his partner Lyn. It’s vulnerable and touching.

[Vicky · Rating 3 out of 5]

A book of reflections, observations and diary entries over the course of a year, covering life on the farm near Gipsy Point as well as Bruce's interactions with his extended family, community and the literary world. The book is low key but gives a sense of Bruce's passion and vision for the future of their enterprise and their people.

[Kristine · Rating 4 out of 5]

Few memoirs give you insight into the person, their lives and views as well as making you feel like you 'know' the person, but this book certainly achieved that for me. Reading it felt like sitting down and having a series of conversations and hearing the stories and yarns of everyday life told by Pascoe. It roughly followed the timeline of a year in his life, but also recalled significant past events such as the Black Summer Fires, his friendships and relationships over his life, the pleasures and the annoyances. This is not a book that can be read as a 'story' and is best consumed by reading as single chapters or thought lines. I thoroughly enjoyed it and recommend it for those interested in indigenous issues and the life of this important Australia author.

[Pip · Rating 5 out of 5]

like a long yarn with my grandfather, meandering, nostalgic and deeply meaningful

"the world is waiting for news of how trade can be undertaken without wars and without the creation of both billionaires and slaves."

"We are talking forest plans, which need at least thirty years to show their merit while Australia plans within a three-year electoral cycle."