'The City Bushman' by Henry Lawson
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It was pleasant up the country, City Bushman, where you went,
For you sought the greener patches and you travelled like a gent;
And you curse the trams and buses and the turmoil and the push,
Though you know the squalid city needn't keep you from the bush;
But we lately heard you singing of the `plains where shade is not',
And you mentioned it was dusty -- `all was dry and all was hot'.
True, the bush `hath moods and changes' -- and the bushman hath 'em, too,
For he's not a poet's dummy -- he's a man, the same as you;
But his back is growing rounder -- slaving for the absentee --
And his toiling wife is thinner than a country wife should be.
For we noticed that the faces of the folks we chanced to meet
Should have made a greater contrast to the faces in the street;
And, in short, we think the bushman's being driven to the wall,
And it's doubtful if his spirit will be `loyal thro' it all'.
Though the bush has been romantic and it's nice to sing about,
There's a lot of patriotism that the land could do without --
Sort of BRITISH WORKMAN nonsense that shall perish in the scorn
Of the drover who is driven and the shearer who is shorn,
Of the struggling western farmers who have little time for rest,
And are ruined on selections in the sheep-infested West;
Droving songs are very pretty, but they merit little thanks
From the people of a country in possession of the Banks.
And the `rise and fall of seasons' suits the rise and fall of rhyme,
But we know that western seasons do not run on schedule time;
For the drought will go on drying while there's anything to dry,
Then it rains until you'd fancy it would bleach the sunny sky --
Then it pelters out of reason, for the downpour day and night
Nearly sweeps the population to the Great Australian Bight.
It is up in Northern Queensland that the seasons do their best,
But it's doubtful if you ever saw a season in the West;
There are years without an autumn or a winter or a spring,
There are broiling Junes, and summers when it rains like anything.
In the bush my ears were opened to the singing of the bird,
But the `carol of the magpie' was a thing I never heard.
Once the beggar roused my slumbers in a shanty, it is true,
But I only heard him asking, `Who the blanky blank are you?'
And the bell-bird in the ranges -- but his `silver chime' is harsh
When it's heard beside the solo of the curlew in the marsh.
Yes, I heard the shearers singing `William Riley', out of tune,
Saw 'em fighting round a shanty on a Sunday afternoon,
But the bushman isn't always `trapping brumbies in the night',
Nor is he for ever riding when `the morn is fresh and bright',
And he isn't always singing in the humpies on the run --
And the camp-fire's `cheery blazes' are a trifle overdone;
We have grumbled with the bushmen round the fire on rainy days,
When the smoke would blind a bullock and there wasn't any blaze,
Save the blazes of our language, for we cursed the fire in turn
Till the atmosphere was heated and the wood began to burn.
Then we had to wring our blueys which were rotting in the swags,
And we saw the sugar leaking through the bottoms of the bags,
And we couldn't raise a chorus, for the toothache and the cramp,
While we spent the hours of darkness draining puddles round the camp.
Would you like to change with Clancy -- go a-droving? tell us true,
For we rather think that Clancy would be glad to change with you,
And be something in the city; but 'twould give your muse a shock
To be losing time and money through the foot-rot in the flock,
And you wouldn't mind the beauties underneath the starry dome
If you had a wife and children and a lot of bills at home.
Did you ever guard the cattle when the night was inky-black,
And it rained, and icy water trickled gently down your back
Till your saddle-weary backbone fell a-aching to the roots
And you almost felt the croaking of the bull-frog in your boots --
Sit and shiver in the saddle, curse the restless stock and cough
Till a squatter's irate dummy cantered up to warn you off?
Did you fight the drought and pleuro when the `seasons' were asleep,
Felling sheoaks all the morning for a flock of starving sheep,
Drinking mud instead of water -- climbing trees and lopping boughs
For the broken-hearted bullocks and the dry and dusty cows?
Do you think the bush was better in the `good old droving days',
When the squatter ruled supremely as the king of western ways,
When you got a slip of paper for the little you could earn,
But were forced to take provisions from the station in return --
When you couldn't keep a chicken at your humpy on the run,
For the squatter wouldn't let you -- and your work was never done;
When you had to leave the missus in a lonely hut forlorn
While you `rose up Willy Riley' -- in the days ere you were born?
Ah! we read about the drovers and the shearers and the like
Till we wonder why such happy and romantic fellows strike.
Don't you fancy that the poets ought to give the bush a rest
Ere they raise a just rebellion in the over-written West?
Where the simple-minded bushman gets a meal and bed and rum
Just by riding round reporting phantom flocks that never come;
Where the scalper -- never troubled by the `war-whoop of the push' --
Has a quiet little billet -- breeding rabbits in the bush;
Where the idle shanty-keeper never fails to make a draw,
And the dummy gets his tucker through provisions in the law;
Where the labour-agitator -- when the shearers rise in might --
Makes his money sacrificing all his substance for The Right;
Where the squatter makes his fortune, and `the seasons rise and fall',
And the poor and honest bushman has to suffer for it all;
Where the drovers and the shearers and the bushmen and the rest
Never reach the Eldorado of the poets of the West.
And you think the bush is purer and that life is better there,
But it doesn't seem to pay you like the `squalid street and square'.
Pray inform us, City Bushman, where you read, in prose or verse,
Of the awful `city urchin who would greet you with a curse'.
There are golden hearts in gutters, though their owners lack the fat,
And we'll back a teamster's offspring to outswear a city brat.
Do you think we're never jolly where the trams and buses rage?
Did you hear the gods in chorus when `Ri-tooral' held the stage?
Did you catch a ring of sorrow in the city urchin's voice
When he yelled for Billy Elton, when he thumped the floor for Royce?
Do the bushmen, down on pleasure, miss the everlasting stars
When they drink and flirt and so on in the glow of private bars?
You've a down on `trams and buses', or the `roar' of 'em, you said,
And the `filthy, dirty attic', where you never toiled for bread.
(And about that self-same attic -- Lord! wherever have you been?
For the struggling needlewoman mostly keeps her attic clean.)
But you'll find it very jolly with the cuff-and-collar push,
And the city seems to suit you, while you rave about the bush.
.....
You'll admit that Up-the Country, more especially in drought,
Isn't quite the Eldorado that the poets rave about,
Yet at times we long to gallop where the reckless bushman rides
In the wake of startled brumbies that are flying for their hides;
Long to feel the saddle tremble once again between our knees
And to hear the stockwhips rattle just like rifles in the trees!
Long to feel the bridle-leather tugging strongly in the hand
And to feel once more a little like a native of the land.
And the ring of bitter feeling in the jingling of our rhymes
Isn't suited to the country nor the spirit of the times.
Let us go together droving, and returning, if we live,
Try to understand each other while we reckon up the div.
Editor 1 Interpretation
The City Bushman: A Masterpiece of Henry Lawson's Poetry
Have you ever felt like a stranger in your own city? Have you ever yearned for the simplicity and freedom of the bush, far away from the hustle and bustle of urban life? If you have, then you will relate to Henry Lawson's iconic poem, "The City Bushman," which captures the timeless theme of the country versus the city in Australian literature.
In this 4000-word literary criticism and interpretation, we will explore the historical and cultural context of the poem, analyze its language and structure, and unravel its deeper meaning and significance. By the end of this article, you will appreciate why "The City Bushman" is not only a classic of Australian poetry but also a universal work of art that speaks to the human condition.
Historical and Cultural Context
To understand "The City Bushman," we need to delve into the historical and cultural context of its creation. Henry Lawson was a prominent Australian writer of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, who is regarded as one of the founders of Australian literature. Born in 1867 in a rural area of New South Wales, Lawson experienced firsthand the harshness and isolation of bush life, as well as the poverty and injustice of his times.
Lawson's literary career began in the 1880s, when he started publishing short stories and poems in newspapers and magazines. His works often focused on the lives of ordinary Australians, especially those who lived in the bush or worked in the city. Lawson's style was characterized by his use of colloquial language, vivid imagery, and social realism, which reflected his commitment to portraying the truth of Australian society.
"The City Bushman" was first published in 1892, in the Bulletin, a leading Australian literary magazine that promoted nationalist and democratic ideals. The poem was part of a series of works by Lawson that dealt with the contrast between the bush and the city, and the tensions between rural and urban identities. "The City Bushman" was written during a period of economic depression and social upheaval in Australia, when many rural people were forced to migrate to the cities in search of work and a better life. The poem reflects the sense of displacement and disillusionment that many Australians felt during this time, as they struggled to adapt to the urban environment and maintain their cultural roots.
Language and Structure
The language and structure of "The City Bushman" are key elements that contribute to its power and effectiveness as a poem. The poem is written in free verse, with irregular line lengths and no rhyme scheme, which gives it a sense of spontaneity and naturalness. The lack of formal structure also reflects the theme of the poem, which is about the contrast between the ordered, artificial world of the city and the rugged, organic world of the bush.
The poem is divided into three stanzas, each with a different tone and focus. The first stanza introduces the central character of the poem, the "city bushman," who is described as a "strange and foreign" figure in the urban landscape. The language here is simple and direct, with short, declarative sentences that convey a sense of detachment and observation. The use of the word "foreign" is significant, as it suggests that the bushman is an outsider in his own country, marginalized by the dominant culture of the city.
The second stanza shifts the focus to the bushman's memories of his former life in the bush, which are triggered by the sight of a "withered vine" on a city wall. The language here becomes more poetic and evocative, with metaphors and similes that capture the beauty and vitality of the bush. The imagery of the "withered vine" symbolizes the bushman's own sense of loss and decay, as he realizes that he can never go back to the life he once knew.
The third stanza brings the poem to a dramatic conclusion, as the bushman resolves to leave the city and return to the bush, where he can "die like a man." The language here is passionate and defiant, with repeated phrases and strong emotional appeals. The use of the phrase "die like a man" is particularly poignant, as it suggests that the bushman feels that he has lost his dignity and self-respect in the city, and can only regain them by returning to his natural environment.
Interpretation and Significance
So what does "The City Bushman" mean, and why is it significant? At its simplest level, the poem is a lament for the loss of traditional rural values and identity in the face of urbanization and modernization. The bushman represents a way of life that is disappearing, and his struggles to adapt to the city reflect the tensions and conflicts that arise when cultures clash. The poem speaks to a universal human experience, the feeling of displacement and loss that comes with change and progress.
At a deeper level, "The City Bushman" can be seen as a critique of modernity and its effects on the human spirit. The poem suggests that the city, with its artificial structures and social conventions, can stifle the natural instincts and emotions of people, and create a sense of alienation and despair. The bushman's longing for the bush is not just a nostalgia for a simpler life, but a recognition of the fundamental human need for connection to nature and community.
The poem also has a political dimension, as it reflects Lawson's socialist and nationalist views on Australian society. The bushman can be seen as a symbol of the working-class people who were struggling to survive in an unequal and unjust society. The poem urges Australians to remember their roots and resist the forces of commercialism and imperialism that were threatening their cultural identity.
In conclusion, "The City Bushman" is a masterpiece of Australian poetry that transcends its national context to speak to universal themes of identity, displacement, and human dignity. Henry Lawson's use of language and structure, as well as his social and political vision, make this poem a timeless work of art that deserves to be read and appreciated by generations to come. So next time you find yourself lost in the city, take a moment to read "The City Bushman," and let its words remind you of the beauty and strength of the bush.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
The City Bushman: A Classic Poem by Henry Lawson
Henry Lawson, one of Australia's most celebrated poets, wrote The City Bushman in 1892. This classic poem is a powerful commentary on the struggles of the working-class people who migrated to the city in search of a better life. The poem is a reflection of the harsh realities of life in the city and the longing for the simplicity of the bush.
The poem begins with the speaker describing the city as a place where the "streets are paved with gold." This is a common perception of the city, where people believe that they can make their fortunes. However, the speaker quickly dispels this myth by describing the city as a place where "the human heart is sold." This line sets the tone for the rest of the poem, as the speaker exposes the dark side of the city.
The speaker then introduces the protagonist of the poem, the city bushman. The city bushman is a symbol of the working-class people who migrated to the city in search of a better life. The speaker describes him as a man who "knows no other life." This line highlights the fact that the city bushman has left behind his life in the bush and has fully embraced the city life.
The speaker then goes on to describe the city bushman's struggles in the city. He is "a stranger in a strange land," and he is "lost in the city's maze." This line highlights the fact that the city is a foreign place for the city bushman, and he struggles to navigate his way through it. The speaker then describes the city bushman's loneliness, as he is "a solitary figure in the crowded street." This line highlights the fact that the city bushman is alone in the city, despite being surrounded by people.
The speaker then goes on to describe the city bushman's longing for the bush. He longs for the "scent of the wattle" and the "song of the bird." This line highlights the fact that the city bushman misses the simplicity of the bush and longs to return to it. The speaker then describes the city bushman's disillusionment with the city, as he realizes that "the city's gold is dross." This line highlights the fact that the city bushman has come to the realization that the city is not the paradise he thought it was.
The speaker then goes on to describe the city bushman's desire to return to the bush. He longs to "feel the breeze a-blowing" and to "hear the river's song." This line highlights the fact that the city bushman desires the simplicity of the bush and longs to return to it. The speaker then describes the city bushman's determination to return to the bush, as he "turns his face towards the west." This line highlights the fact that the city bushman is determined to return to the bush and will do whatever it takes to get there.
The poem ends with the speaker describing the city bushman's journey back to the bush. He is "weary, footsore, and spent," but he is "happy in his quest." This line highlights the fact that the city bushman is tired and worn out from his journey, but he is happy because he is returning to the bush. The speaker then describes the city bushman's joy as he "sees the old bush homestead." This line highlights the fact that the city bushman has finally returned to the bush and is overjoyed to be back.
In conclusion, The City Bushman is a powerful commentary on the struggles of the working-class people who migrated to the city in search of a better life. The poem is a reflection of the harsh realities of life in the city and the longing for the simplicity of the bush. Henry Lawson's use of imagery and symbolism effectively conveys the message of the poem and creates a vivid picture of the city bushman's struggles and his journey back to the bush. The poem is a classic piece of Australian literature and is a testament to the enduring power of poetry.
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