A CRITICAL BIOGRAPHY OF EDWIN JAMES BRADY - Mallacoota ...

168
His conclusion that Lawson was a genius seems extravagant until one observes that
John Tierney and even the erudite A.G. Stephens himself use the term with reference
to Lawson. Tierney’s assessment that ‘he is out greatest literary genius” 1 and
Stephens’ comment that he uses the term genius “in its particular meaning of intense
cerebral heat, light, force”, 2 reinforced Brady’s summation. Perhaps it should be
remembered that “Walter Murdoch had complained of over-enthusiastic use of
complimentary terms in Australian criticism, averring that it did no useful service to
either the writer or Australian literature, 3 but Lawson has usually attracted favourable
comment because of his ability to distil the essence of the Australian character,
particularly the bush character of the period. It should be remembered too, that Brady
was not claiming to be a literary critic, even thous his essay is a critical piece of work.
But his emphasis is upon an understanding of the man – an understanding which
admittedly cannot be complete without reference to the spirit of his achievement and
examples of his work. However he denies, at the end of his essay on Lawson, any
pretensions to being a critic, for even in 1931 when the essay was written, he regarded
the role of the critic with suspicion.
The picture of Lawson which emerges from Brady’s treatment gives a greater
understanding of the man and his work. Brady shows a sincerity and sensitivity
towards Lawson and his moods, preoccupations and his fears which can only be
attained by long personal relationships. It reveals Lawson as a man careless of
material possessions; h e upbraided Brady for being too careful about the material
things of life which he himself conscientiously despised. He is revealed as a man who
paid great attention to detail, although he obviously had the capacity to appreciate the
grand sweep and movement of human affairs. Brady recalls how intent Lawson was
on one occasion on discovering that all plates in public houses had a blue line around
the rim. Lawson regarded it “as a matter calling for urgent literary attention, and
drifted away to write it up”. This attention to detail is apparent in Lawson’s writing,
but not so much the periods of intense nervousness which such behaviour sometimes
cloaked. He would use such devices to slip away on slight excuse when a raw
sensibility overcame his self-assurance. The nervous drawling lisp with which he
spoke also betrayed to Brady an innate shyness.
Brady, of course, thoroughly approved of Lawson’s socialistic leanings. They shared
a vision of a great Hellenic republic which would lead to the solution of all the
grievances of the workers and their elevation into a demi-paradise in the South:
You will remember that we were in our early twenties, radical bohemians
filled with sincere enthusiasm. We dreamt the establishment of a new Hellenic
democracy. Literature and the fine arts would be a policy of the
administration, and Australia was to become the intellectual leader of the
nations, and a finger-post to the freedom and prosperity of the world. We
might have been Utopians – but forty years of life’s experience have convinced
me that the shaded glamour of a dream is oftentimes a safer guiding star than
the naked arc-lights of Reality. 3
1 J. Tierney, “Lawson’s Eurunderee”, in Mann’s collection, p.514.
2 Walter Murdoch, “Some Recent Verse – And Criticism, The Argus, 11.5.1901.
3 “The Voice of Australia,” p.491.