I had heard about Pascoe’s “Dark Emu” and it was on my “to read” list. Early in August the SMH ran an article about Pascoe, so when Salt became available I jumped at the opportunity to read it.
Pascoe is of Bunurong and Yuin descent. He is an awarding-winning writer, editor and, more recently, historian. He has always combined his writing craft with other careers, and in his time has worked as a teacher, farmer, fisherman, lecturer and Aboriginal language researcher.
This book has added greatly to the discussion of this continent’s history.
The muffled prejudice towards the indigenous people of Australia is often uncovered on social media and in the musings of conservative politicians and commentators. Their offerings are strong on bias and weak on facts. Pascoe adds greatly to the bank of knowledge about the Aboriginal people, their history and why they are who they are today.
I can remember in the small town of Kempsey in the early 1990s how council members saw the flying of the Aboriginal flag as being the end of the world as we knew it. I saw Mabo and Wik being seen as the end of thousands of pastoralist and the mining industry. John Howard and his conservative cohort fought tirelessly against the simple concept of saying sorry to those Aboriginal people who were taken from their families. Now we have the Uluru Statement from the Heart being seen as an attack on Australian democracy.
Pascoe’s “Salt” gives much substance to a fuller and deeper understanding of Aboriginal people, their culture, food, technology and societies before European invasion.
I use that word “invasion” purposefully. How else can you describe the arrival of white people late in the eighteenth century as anything else? There were people already here and according to Pascoe had been for up to 100,000 years.
Whether it is fifty, sixty or a hundred thousand years this alone is a strong indicator of the strength and durability of Aboriginal economy and society. The first Europeans had the mindset to dismiss the Aborigines as being primitive, unimportant and doomed people.
"A revealing fact that Pascoe unveils is Pope Alexander VI decree called the Doctrine of Discovery. It established the spiritual, political and legal justification for the colonisation and seizure of land not inhabited by Christians.
The rationale went like this. If a people did not recognise the name of Jesus Christ – and you’ll be surprised how many different continents did not - it was the duty of the Christian to take their land and bring them into the light. Most of those brought into the light has that light extinguished immediately by Christian swords. Many Christians yearn for the same solution. As do Muslims."
The above quote also demonstrates Pascoe’s cynical and sarcastic attitude to the invasion and subsequent destruction of so much Aboriginal culture, languages and history. Much of his attitude arises from the deliberate ignorance of Aboriginal people and their history known by modern Australians.
The book is a mixture of didactic writings on Aboriginal issues and creative writing pieces where Pascoe writes of his world and its inhabitants.
The opening story, A Letter to Barry is a short story masterpiece. The quality of the writing took my breath away. Pascoe is travelling up a river remembering the place from when he was a young teacher. His writing rambles like our memories. Sights ignite thoughts of people passed. A sentence encapsulates a life. The story opens with him observing a fox hunting fish. The descriptions are warm and vivid. On his return journey the fox is still there. He becomes aware that it is ailing and it is easy to kill.
"The golden eyes could barely focus, but she knew my intent. She avoided the first swing of the club by the merest turn of her head, but I collected it with the returning pendulum and cracked that fine skull. Blood gushed from its ears and nose."
Stories such as Thylacine, capture a taste and smell of Australian country life. The language is often sparse and the images savage. Sentences are short, metaphors are many and the occasional complex word give his writing brevity and power. His writing reminds me of the work Eric Rolls, earthy, considered and substantial.
In stories like The Imperial Mind, Andrews Bolt’s Disappointment and An Enemy of the People, Pascoe deals with the prejudices that exist and surface regularly from the mouths of right wing commentators and in social media. They reach a crescendo when a black fella gets “too uppity” like Adam Goodes and don’t play the role of a quiet acceptable Aboriginal person.
I found Rearranging the Dead Cat particularly challenging. Pascoe discusses the roles and portrayal that many great Australian authors gave to Aboriginal people in their stories. Winton, Malouf, White, Hall. He is critical. There is validity to his criticism, however, when I reflect on my own values in the 60s and 70s they were a product of the time. There wasn’t the consciousness of aboriginality as exists now.
Salt is a varied collection of reminiscences, polemic expositions on Aborigines and enchanting character driven stories. I believe that it will have a lasting impact on Australian society as it tussels with the history, the present and the future of the Aboriginal people of this country.