Waiting for the Past. Les Murray. Black Inc.
Reviewed by Michael Byrne
Les Murray was born in Nabaic, New South Wales in 1938. He is an Australian poet, anthologist and critic. His work is studied in schools and universities in Australia and beyond. He is widely regarded as Australia’s best poet. Being widely regarded as the best poet in Australia, Murray should and does have a good sense of humour in Waiting for the Past. (‘Savoury’):
Brown gravy, brown gravy
should be sold by the bottle;
drink savoury, not sickly,
let your clothes catch the dottle.
This poem is a squib (which means a short, witty piece of writing). Not all squibs are well-written though. This one certainly is – there is something happening in every line; there is repetition, alliteration and consonance working together. A longer, free verse poem describes the goings on in a forest (‘High Foliage’):
Greenest in blue or red
leaves tread on the sky
lending light its flavours
as the blind computer plays
between core and star.
This poem has clever abstract thoughts (‘leaves tread on the sky’). There is an absence of poet as observer in the poem. Murray has the imagination to conceptualise it. He would have read up about the plants mentioned in the poem. Murray is a lifelong learner and eventually finds out something important about chickens from a boy of eleven (‘Eating from the Dictionary’):
Much later, when all our birds were dead
a boy of eleven who kept
name breeds said they had suffered
spinal worm. And was there a cure?
Sure. Garlic in their drinking water.
He named a small ration per year.
His parents vouched for him. No need.
We’d seen his small flock, and the trust
that tottered round him on zinc feet.
The poem goes from being interesting to really interesting in these last three stanzas, where a cure for spinal worm is found. The reader experiences the joy of the cure with Murray. Another poem about an aspect of farming is also interesting in Waiting for the Past (‘Dog Skills’):
Now new breeds and skill
silence the paddocks
A murmured vowel
brings collie and kelpie flying
along the road-cutting
till each makes its leap
of judgement into the tractor
tray, loose-tongued and smiling front.
His attention to detail is apparent here. Murray also has an extensive vocabulary which aids his poetry (‘Tap Dogs Music’):
The scorched hook-steerers
down in the spatter
spend crib times heel-and-toeing
a new ferrous patter
The word ferrous (which means pertaining to iron) is one of many uncommon adjectives Murray seems to know. They are all advantageous to the precision of his art. But precision is just one aspect of his art. Murray is a complex poet who wears many hats. He can be an imagist, a conceptualist, a formalist, a humourist. And he means a lot to many people, who read his poetry for the artistry of it.
Michael Byrne 