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First published January 1, 1903
13 years ago I read this novel, and in hindsight I realise that I barely understood it. What's strange is that even though I missed half of what's going on, I still loved this book as a teenager. On the surface it is a realistic portrait of 'life and times'. It is an induction into a certain way of life at a certain time in a certain place. This is what I loved as a teenager. I loved the homely details, the witty style, the exoticism of bullockys on the Riverina one hundred and fifty years since.
Reading it again, with the benefit of a postgraduate degree in English Literature and a much deeper knowledge of Australia's colonial history, I was both sadder and gladder. Sadder, because I can no longer take such delight in the novel's witty surface. Furphy's learning is not as great as it seemed to me before. The book is also disfigured by race-consciousness, and I find it harder than I used to to apologise for colonial and imperialist attitudes. But as I made it through the book, and its dense web of subplots and ironies opened out before me, I realised that in fact the novel is more-or-less the opposite of what I thought it was as a young man. Tom Collins, the narrator, is fool whom I mistook for a philosopher. His learning is pedantic. His race-consciousness is pedantry too. His actions are casually despicable. And the real story of the book, the tale of the two Alfs, unfolds in a natural and tragic manner the undoes the book at its seams.
At one point Collins adjures the reader to be 'attentive', and you really do have to attend to understand the novel. Like Ulysses, it is almost supernaturally allusive and detailed. There are many clues, but very few explanations—and most of the latter are misleading anyhow. It is a book of its moment, tinged with feelings and images that all humane Australians now regret. If you can patiently let the novel's ironies unfurl, however, it gradually unzips the ugliness that plays about on the surface, and a weird, attractive kind of non-philosophy emerges from the depths.