The Vanished Land is the Western District of Victoria stripped of its identity, its social elite of grazing dynasties departed for their own reasons. The melancholic exodus has increased recently as the myriad pressures of holding inherited land have become intolerable in a nation never intimidated by ditching its past. This historic plain of fecundity demands an investigation of its ending as the home of a ruling class that for 150 years bestrode an Australia riding on the sheep's back. "The Vanished Land" is a human tale of leaving, of a disconnect with the land, of submerged anguish and inhibited grief, a private story of loss told for the first time by an outsider with insider connection.
I read some pretty bad reviews of this book which put me off buying it and purchasing it from the library instead. Surprisingly, I found it a really good read. It was written well, and covered a dynamic history of the Western District from it's Scottish Highland Settlers, it's social elites and political influence, to the migration to Barwon Heads of the last linage of the great pastoral families; Who packed up and sold to large multinational corporations, London Billionaires with a bit of cash to splash around, and Qatar Shiek's with a taste for mutton. Well worth a read, altho $40 is damn steep for a little paperback.
As a working class kid who grew up surrounded by these families in a town near "damp and lifeless" Harrow, I was so excited to see this title in my local bookshop. I had long been fascinated by these families, their influence and their fortunes. My ancestors emigrated to Australia as part of the Barwon Park Austin household, my grandmother was in-service to one of these families in the 1930s and my mother nannied for another one of these families as a teenager in the early 1960s. Western District farming communities are the stuff of legends - this book should have been a ripping read. Unfortunately Mr Zachariah swallowed a thesaurus and turned a rich, complex social history into a load of old one-dimensional, forelock-tugging, name-dropping twaddle. Going to school with rich kids and traipsing around the back blocks to lament the state of the ole family pile does not a historian make. If the author had have condescended to talk to a broader range of people about these families and their impact on local communities, a more nuanced and complex tale would have emerged. A wasted opportunity. I recommend Don Charlwood's "An Afternoon of Time" if you want to read bout the rich human experience that was the Western District in its prime.
This was such an interesting book. I learned so much about the history of the western district, which is close to my heart, about farming, the families who farm, how they came to be there, what it means to them, how they do things the same or differently. About history and how that affected not just the district, but Melbourne, Australia and abroad and how abroad affected the district. About the haves and have nots, which can change in a blink and how they deal with it. I would have liked to hear from some of the non-farming, long-term residents of the district, the townies, to get their views of life through the ages in the district. Really interesting.
I quite liked this book. I grew up in the area so knew a lot of the places and people contained within it. The story is adequately told but his prose seemed quite amateurish in places and quite forced-poetic in others. A good read for a niche audience. Limited appeal to those who didn't grow up in the Western District of Victoria, I would imagine.