“The Glugs of Gosh” and Sassafras Creek

September 4th, 2017 | C. J. Dennis, Photos, Poems for adults, Poems for children, Significant dates in the life of C. J. Dennis, Sunnyside, Toolangi

This year, 2017, marks the centenary of the publication of C. J. Dennis’ flawed masterpiece “The Glugs of Gosh”.

This is a very different book to “The Songs of a Sentimental Bloke” and “The Moods of Ginger Mick”, the centenaries of the publication of which have taken place over the last two years. While those books were calculate to appeal to as many people as possible, and did indeed appeal to an enormous number, they came at a personal emotional cost. “The Glugs of Gosh” was written to square the ledger – it was written for himself, and is the most autobiographical of his books. Not surprisingly, perhaps, it proved nowhere near as popular as the other two. Nevertheless, it remained the book of which Dennis himself was the most proud. Furthermore, it has attracted and retained a core following of passionately loyal supporters over the years. (I am one.)

It is a brilliant but difficult book. Part nonsense verse for children, part satire for adults, one is not always sure which is which. (Hence the ‘flawed’.) Nevertheless, it contains much that is deeply wise, extremely funny, or simply sublime. The book was begun at “Sunnyside” in Kallista, under the influence of Garry and Roberta Roberts, and finished at Toolangi.

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The first poem in the book, “The Glug Quest”, invites the reader to re-enter the world of their childhood imagination in order to reach the land of Gosh.

It begins as follows:

Follow the river and cross the ford,
Follow again to the wobbly bridge,
Turn to the left at the notice board,
Climbing the cow-track over the ridge;
Tip-toe soft by the little red house,
Hold your breath if they touch the latch,
Creep to the slip-rails, still as a mouse,
Then…run like mad for the bracken patch.

The second poem, “Joi, the Glug”, begins to tell us a little about the Glugs, and their land of Gosh.

It begins as follows:

The Glugs abide in a far, far land
That is partly pebbles and stones and sand,
But mainly earth of a chocolate hue,
When it isn’t purple, or slightly blue.
And the Glugs live there with their aunts and wives,
In draught-proof tenements all their lives.
And they climb the trees when the weather is wet,
To see how high they can really get.
Pray, don’t forget,
This is chiefly done when the weather is wet
.

Alec Chisholm, in his biography of C. J. Dennis, “The Life and Times of C. J. Dennis” (Angus & Robertson, 1946), quotes a conversation he had with Mrs Aeneas Gunn, author of “We of the Never Never”, and friend of Dennis.

Yes,” said Mrs Aeneas Gunn, when I commented to her on the free-flowing nature of “The Glugs of Gosh”, “there is melody in particular in the opening verses of the book, and I think that Dennis gained much of his inspiration from the music of Sassafras Creek. Early in 1914, soon after returning from England, I used to ride frequently beside that little stream, and I was always impressed, not merely by the ferns and other fairylike foliage that festooned its banks, but by the music of the steadily-flowing water.

“The creek had many voices. They all spoke together, and in perfect harmony. They were like numerous notes of music crossing and recrossing. Especially was this so at a certain spot where a big log spanned the stream amid a riot of picturesque growth. It was there that I often used to see Mr. Dennis loitering, apparently content to gaze at the scenery and listen to the music of birds and flowing water.

“‘I suppose’, I said to him one day, ‘you are like myself: you never tire of the voices of the Sassafras?’

“‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘this stream has many voices, and all musical.’

“Now, after many years” (Mrs Gunn added), “I continue to read with pleasure portions of The Glugs of Gosh. They recall for me the beauty of the ferns and other foliage, and as I read I hear again the varied and melodious voices of Sassafras Creek.”

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Yesterday I decided to attempt to follow in the footsteps of C. J. Dennis and Mrs Gunn, and visit Sassafras Creek myself.

It is indeed a beautiful and musical little stream, and no doubt in most ways little altered over the last one hundred years.

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I cannot imagine, however, how one could possibly ride a horse along its banks. Walking was difficult enough. They were narrow and muddy, and often steep and very slippery.

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I walked upstream from Beagleys Bridge Picnic Area, the closest point of the creek to where ‘Sunnyside’ once stood. She may well have headed downstream, where the going may become easier. It should also be noted that the biggest change to occur in the last hundred years is the dramatic increase in the foliage. Photos taken of the area at the time of C. J. Dennis and Mrs Aeneas Gunn show bare hillsides and very sparse vegetation.

Just as Mrs Gunn described, the foliage along the creek is indeed fairy-like.

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It is easy to understand how Sassafras Creek inspired C. J. Dennis to write “The Glugs of Gosh”.

It is wonderful, too, to be able to walk so easily in his footsteps one hundred years later.

The Wheel of Life

August 4th, 2013 | Photos, Sunnyside, Web Gilbert

This is a complex story, with many layers.

Gilbert created a marble statue called “The Wheel of Life”. It depicts a Buddhist lama sitting beside a stream. “The Wheel of Life” has just fallen from his hands. Presumably, it is a metaphor for the folly of believing one can control one’s own destiny. It proved especially true in Gilbert’s case. The First World War came along and de-railed all his plans. That’s not the story I want to tell now, though.

And before I proceed further with the story I do want to tell, I have a question to ask. How did Web Gilbert, living in Australia in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, become familiar with Buddhism? I have read that the sculpture recalls Kipling’s Kim, but I am not sure in what way. (Admittedly, I have not read Kim. Perhaps if I had, it would be clear to me.)

Apparently, the sculpture was commissioned for the Springthorpe memorial in the Boroondara cemetery, but was considered “too eastern”.

John William Springthorpe was born in England in 1855 (the same year as Ned Kelly). He came out to Australia as a young child, and was educated here. He completed his medical degree at the University of Melbourne in 1879 (the same year that Ned Kelly wrote the Jerilderie Letter).

Springthorpe’s wife died in childbirth in 1897. He was stricken with grief, and created a mausoleum for her. Gilbert was commissioned to contribute to this. Why did Springthorpe choose Gilbert? And why did Gilbert think a statue featuring Buddhism would be appropriate?

Somehow, the statue found its way into the hands of three brothers, R. A., W. M., and A. S. Cudmore, nephews of Dr. Lilian Alexander. Dr. Alexander was one of the first women to graduate in Medicine in Australia. Upon her death, her nephews donated “The Wheel of Life” to the University of Melbourne as a mark of respect and gratitude for their aunt, who had acted as their friend and mentor.

So why was the statue acceptable to the Cudmores but not Dr. Springthorpe? And what did the university make of it? Apparently, it has been moved around several times during its life at The University of Melbourne. It is currently on display in the main foyer of the medical school building in Grattan Street. That is where I took these photos. (Being a graduate of Medicine at the University of Melbourne myself, this building is very familiar to me!)

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In preparing this blog post, I have drawn heavily from three articles, as follows:

http://www.unimelb.edu.au/culturalcollections/research/collections9/03_Robyn-Sloggett.pdf

http://adb.anu.edu.au/biography/springthorpe-john-william-8610

http://www.jnmhugateways.unimelb.edu.au/umfm/biogs/FM00125b.htm

The Stately Old Mansions of Riversdale Road

August 3rd, 2013 | Hawthorn, Photos, Poems for adults, Sunnyside

Riversdale Road is one of Hawthorn’s major thoroughfares. Just as an aside, Garry and Roberta Roberts, who owned “Sunnyside”, and did so much for C. J. Dennis, lived in Hastings Road, which runs off Riversdale Road.

I was walking past these large houses (mansions?) recently and, although I have driven down the street many times, suddenly felt I was seeing them for the first time.

The Stately Old Mansions of Riversdale Road

This morning I ambled along in the sun;
No hassle, no hurry, no pressure to run.
I took in the scene, and my racing mind slowed –
The stately old mansions of Riversdale Road.

How bright, still, the colours – the red of the bricks,
The gloss of the paint in a myriad licks.
Something inside of me heated and glowed
As I gazed at the mansions of Riversdale Road.

The windows so pretty, the balconies high,
The angles the roofs made against the blue sky.
Through my thin veins a rich energy flowed,
From the stately old mansions of Riversdale Road.

I know what you’re thinking. They hark to a time
When divisions of class and religion were prime.
Above the rough surge a minority rode
In the stately old mansions of Riversdale Road.

Yet the buildings bring vigour. The architects’ view
Stands through the ages, and paints the world new
Each time the sun rises. They never corrode,
The stately old mansions of Riversdale Road.

At last I moved on, but I carried the thread
Of the lives that my ancestors once might have led
In my heart and my soul, and I think that it showed…
I’d been touched by the mansions of Riversdale Road.

© Stephen Whiteside 01.03.2013

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