An Australian Saga about a Girl’snSpecial SomethingnColleen McCuUough: The ThornnBirds; Harper & Row; New York.nby Whit StillmanntUoUeen McCullough’s The ThornnBirds is probably the biggest novel aboutnfarming since So Big by Edna Ferber. It’snpossibly even bigger.nTo gauge this achievement accuratelynit must be mentioned that in 1924 MissnFerber was considered, in the words ofnone major literary review, “the biggestnnovelist we have in this country.” Hernpublisher more astutely claimed greatnessnfor her as a “storyteller” rather thannas a novelist, and perpetuated this euphemismnby announcing its commercialnfiction list each season under the headline,n”The Storytellers.”nColleen McCullough is probably thenbiggest storyteller we now have in thenEnglish-speaking world. The story’s sizenalmost requires that it be treated inncomponent parts—its style, setting,nsymbol, saga and theme.nThe usual setting for a big farmingnnovel is a big farm. Drogheda—thenAustralian sheep station to which nineyear-oldnMeggie Cleary, the novel’snheroine, comes in 1921 —has aboutn2 50,000 acres. It is the biggest farm everntreated in literature.nFor a symbol the author suggests anspecies of birds, called the thorn birds.nAt least her prefatory paragraph impliesnthis: “There is a legend about a bird whichn. . . searches for a thorn tree . . . Then,nsinging among the savage branches, itnimpales itself upon the longest, sharpestnspike,” and sings better than ever. “Onensuperlative song, existence the price.”nWhat quality is most remarkable aboutnsuch birds.’ Their extraordinary lack ofnintelligence. But that does not reducentheir effectiveness as a symbol fornWhit Stillman, formerly a reader andneditor with Doubleday, is now the publishernof The American Spectator.n8nChronicles of Culturenthe novel.nThe saga is that of the Cleary familynand, as the term suggests, extendsnthrough several generations. At thencenter is beautiful Meggie, the only girlnamong Fiona Cleary’s seven children.nEarly on in the story, Meggie senses thatnshe shares with her mother “a specialnsomething not common to Daddy andnthe boys, but there was no reachingnbeyond [her mother’s] rigid back, thosennever still feet.” As a child Meggie is thenspecial delight of Ralph de Bricassart,nthe local priest whose handsomeness isnfrequently stressed. The larger part,nhowever, of Ralph de Bricassart’s “appealnand attraction lay not in his person, butnin [an] aloof, almost godlike, very humannsomething from his soul.”nX he novel’s theme, at least throughnthe first half, is distinctly modern—nearlynall the characters are despicable or, atnleast, unalluring. Father Ralph, courtingnfor the Church the fortune of Meggie’snaunt, Mary Carson, gets the old womanninfatuated with himself. “You’re the mostnbeautiful man I’ve ever seen,” she tellsnhim in one encounter. Then she putsnher hand on his bare chest and declares,n”You’re a sybarite, Ralph, you lie in thensun. Are you tan all over.'” In answer hentakes off his clothes and stands nakednbefore her: “Do you want me to makenlove to you, Mary.'” (This all takes placenduring the 1920s.) But on her deathbednMary retaliates for his taunt: “Sham,nsham, sham! That’s all you are Ralph!nAn impotent useless sham! Impotentnman and impotent priest! I don’t thinknyou could get it up and keep it up for thenBlessed Virgin herself! Have you evernmanaged to get it up. Father denBricassart? Sham!” McCullough oftennraises religious questions in the novel.nThe second modern theme shenexplores is gender confusion. At leastnher male characters seem to suffer fromnthis. Her women all tend to be Women.nnnMeggie shares this special somethingnwith her mother. Something else thenCleary Women share — the experiencenof bearing love-children — marksnMcCullough’s return to traditional storytelling.nAfter Meggie’s loveless marriagento Luke O’Neill, she resolves to carrynthe child of Archbishop de Bricassart.nThis was fated. “Each of us,” she laterntells Cardinal de Bricassart, “has somethingnwithin us which won’t be denied,neven if it makes us scream aloud to die.nWe are what we are, that’s all. Like thenold Celtic legend of the bird with thenthorn in its breast, singing its heart outnand dying.”nAnother symbol McCullough invokesnis actually a color, “ashes of roses”—nMeggie’s favorite shade, as she feels itnIn April, 1978—47 weeks on thenNew York Times Book. Review BestnSellers list.ngoes with her reddish-golden hair. Hernlove scheme, Mrs. Cleary tells Meggie,nis destined to turn to ashes of roses: “Younwon’t get away with it any more than Indid . . . You wait! You’ll lose Dane, too.”nMeggie does lose Dane. He drowns innthe Mediterranean shortly after hisnordination as a priest. Ashes to ashes,nroses to ashes of roses. “Oh, dear God,ndear God!” Meggie exclaims to herselfnat one point. “No, not dear God! What’snGod ever done for me …? We’re not toonfond of each other, God and I.” But whatnhad Meggie ever done for God? She doesnnot think of that.nOn Drogheda the Clearys accept thennews of Dane’s drowning stoically. “Theynwere strange, the Drogheda people. Theyndidn’t like company in grief: theynpreferred to be alone with their pain.”nThey wanted solitude to mourn, thenDrogheda people. In their agony theynchose to be by themselves. They optednfor crying in isolation, the Cleary folk.nThey were strange.n
January 1975April 21, 2022By The Archive
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