Robert Holden

We’re all interested in people; misanthropy is not trendy. Contemporary interest in people may be manifested by the success of reality television, the media coverage given to celebrities, and books such as these, which set out to investigate people and what makes them tick.

The perils of a certain kind of historical writing are painfully demonstrated in The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea, billed as ‘the life of Australian whaling captain, William Chamberlain: a tale of abduction, adventure and murder’.

According to the limited information available about Chamberlain, he had an exciting life. Born in Australia in 1803, he was for some reason taken away from his hometown of Port Jackson in 1811 on the Frederick. The French captured this whaling ship on its way back to England, and killed the captain. Chamberlain was taken prisoner with the rest of the crew, and was rescued by the British navy. He was cared for by a naval surgeon, who eventually sent him to school in Scotland for a couple of years. Later, he was on board one of the battleships that participated in the Battle of Algiers in 1816, where he was wounded. It was only then that it occurred to anyone to return the boy, now thirteen, to his family in Australia. After a few years, Chamberlain went to sea again, first on a sealing ship and then on a whaler. He worked his way up to become captain of a whaling vessel, married and had several children. He and his family settled in Hobart, where in 1856 his youngest son was raped and murdered by a ticket-of-leave convict. Chamberlain died in Hobart in 1870.

With the publication of Rodney Hall’s latest novel, The Grisly Wife, the author has brought to completion a trilogy that first began appearing in 1988. Since this last published novel is actually the middle work of the trilogy and what were formerly two separate novels are now bridged by this newcomer, we are finally given the opportunity to assess if and how the parts relate to the whole.

I have had a haunted week reviewing the The Oxford Companion to Australian Folklore; haunted by a host of inadequately credited or totally omitted characters and folklore subjects clamouring for their status and value to be recognised. Thus, in that vast penumbra of lost souls, the plaintive cries of characters such as Ginger Meggs, the Magic Pudding, and the Banksia Men, Rolf Harris and Barry Humphries, together with subjects such as Strine, Rhyming Talk, Hanging Rock, Ghosts, and Oral History, have begged for their recognition! And swelling their ranks are those who only got a toehold in the door, so cursory is their mention: Dad and Dave, Joseph Jacobs, Marion Sinclair, Clancy of the Overflow, the Man from Snowy River, et al.