SOME REFLECTIONS ON READING 'GINGER MICK.'

Mount Ida Chronicle, Volume XLV, Issue XLV, 27 July 1917, Page 1

SOME REFLECTIONS ON READING ' GINGER MICK.'

Mr C. J. Dennis is a. poet—there Js 110 doubt about that. If he does not dwell on the topmost peaks of Parnassus, and can hardly be sure of immortal fame, yet he possesses a goodly share of the creative power and revealing instinct which are the marks of the true poet. His characters live. When we have closed the book, the Sentimental Bloke and his wife Doreen and Ginger Mick (his friend) are more than mere names to us. They take their places in our memories and affections as real persons whom we have known, whom we should recognise weTe we to meet them again. That is the supreme test- of novelist or poet: that he is able to make the creatures of his imagination vivid, lifelike, real to We readers; and Mr Dennis

is able to do that. Moreover, lie has the poet's gift of being able to unveil the truth which lies concealed under the outward appearances of things. It is the poet's business to enable, us to see what otherwise our own observation might well have missed. The essence of true manhood, the vital relations between men and classes of men, the realities of experience—the poet's business is to make these plain to onr dimmer vision; and Mi- Dennis, ■within his own compass, does that. The medium he emplovs is a dialect. It is the speech of the Melbourne streets, the slang of the pavement. But he purges it of all that would make it offensive to self-respect-ing readers, and shows himself a true artist in so doing. This medium has its disadvantages. The use of dialect restricts the appeal of a book, and inevitably shortens its day. There are many people who will not trouble themselves to master an unfamiliar mode of speech. Dialect, slang dialect such as this, is constantly changing, and within an ordinary lifetime many of its words and phrases

will be already obsolete. The poet who chooses to write in such a dialect limits the range of his popularity, and condemns himself to a temporary fame. On the other hand, Mr Dennis's choice of language has its merits. Much'of slang is made of the very stuff of poetry: it is simile, metaphor, trope. And this slang is appropriate to the depicting of the characters of the story, for it is the very language in ■which they and such as they express themselves. By the use of their own vernacular the author gives definifceness of outline and vividness of personality to the figures he portrays. Mr "Dennis is a poet. But a poet is a prophet, and Mr Dennis is one of the minor prophets of our day, with a message for us to which we shall do well to give heed. His tale is an endeavor to interpret sympathetically and to appreciate tho rough, law-despising, unruly, disreputable elements in society. He tries to open our . eyes to the truth that the men of Ginger Mick's class are by no means worthless or deserving of contempt. Their attitude to society as a whole, their conduct and behaviour, he does not seek to justify, hut he attempts to explain it., They are ignorant; their mental powers have never been trained; their moral sense has never been developed; their outlook on life is

narrow, and they have no sense _of responsibility. They regard the more fortunate members of society with jealousy deepening into hatred, and come to look upon them as enemies with whom they have nothing in common. The key to Ginger Mick's character is given in one phrase of the preface: "'E never understood." But Mr Dennis will not have it that these men are wholly, or even in. the main, bad. They are children—primitive men, with primitive instincts untrained and passions uncontrolled. It is true they drink and fight and gamble and swear, and look on law and order as if it were a tyranny; but there are great capacities for goodness in them, none the less. He holds fast the theory That ev'ry- 'eart pumped is good fer chunks o' gold; and he reckons it as one of the benefits which have already accrued to us from the war that it. has made the truth of that theory plain. Becos ole Europe lost 'er block, an' started 'eavin' bricks, Becos the bugles wailed a song uv war, We found reel gold down in the 'earts uv orl our Ginger Micks, We never thort worth minin' fer before. The story of Ginger Mick suggests that there are'some things which will want attending to, once the war is over and we can give time and ■ thought to our own affairs again. Ginger Mick :

Got free edjication, w'icli they fondly shoved 'im through; Then turned 'im loose in Spadgers lane to 'ang around the street An' 'elp the cop to re-erlize the "ardness uv 'is beat. Well, one of the things, whifli will call for attention is our education system. Excellent in many ways as that system is, there is much in it that needs improving. Wo treat our children as if they were ail. alike. We pass them all through the same curriculum without any regard to their individual characteristics and circumstances. We imagine that every one of them needs the same teaching and the same discipline as every other. We are so busy imparting knowledge to them that we forget to aim at making them wise; and we are so anxious about their physical health that we almos't ignore the matter of their moral training. That one boy may pass through our schools and emerge with no desire to put his leisure hours to better use than to loiter at street corners,

and another with no higher ambition than to enjoy life or to make a pile of money, is itself a stinging criticism, not of our State school teachers, but of our State school system. Another thing that will demand attention by and by is our method of dealing with law-breakers. Our system of justice is almost entirely penal. We aim al punishing the criminal, not at reclaiming him. We fine him and imprison him anc send him to penal servitude, and then turr him loose again, not one whit the better rather very much the worse for it all. W< are, it is true, half awake to the folly o our' procedure, but only half awake. W< have some experiments afoot with prisoi camps and afforestation and reformativi treatment. That is good; but we raus get much further along that line. It i the duty- of the State to seek and to savi the lost. Ginger Mick and his class are most of them, drinkers. What do we d with our drinkers? We arrest some o them—l3,ooo in a year or thereaboutsand fine them and turn them out into th

streets again, where we see to it that there is plenty of temptation—licensed temptation—waiting to ensnare them once more. That, too, is a matter that must be dealt with. Mr Dennis would have us realise that society has a responsibility towards every one of its members; that we are in deed and in truth our brothers' keepers; and that we owe it to every child born in our midst that he gets a fair and honest chance—aye, and every help and encouragement, too, to becpme a good and useful citizen. Mr Dennis lays great" stress upon the' fact that the war has done much to break down the barriers between class and clasB:" in society, and to reveal men to each other; ' It is unfortunately too true that we get to know only the men of our own class. We can understand and appreciate them; but other classes are strangers to us. Between the rich and the poor, there is a great gulf fixed ; the educated and the uneducated are separated in the same way. Ignorance is the fruitful source of prejudice, misunderstanding, and suspicion.

the man who is poor, uncultured, rough in speech and ways, seems a vagabond lo his more fortunate brother; while in his eyes his brother's speech, manners, habits seem like vanity, ostentation, and extravagant self-indulgence. The untrained mind, with its narrow outlook, its ability to grasp only certain aspects of a problem, looks. 011 the cultured man, with his broad view of things and his consequent unreadiness to be led away by specious solutions, as- cold and indifferent to the demands of justice and right; while, on the other hand, the man of culture is apt to think the crude proposals and clamorous agitations of his untutored fellow-citizens signs of wicked selfishness and greed. Is there anything more wanted at the present stage of society than a better understanding between different classes of men? Capital and Labor, employer' and employed, talk about fighting each other, and look on each other as enemies, while in reality their interests are indissolubly intertwined, and neither can prosper or "hope to prosper apart from the other! The war will have done good if it opens the eyes of all of us to the truth that no class has n monopoly of virtue'; that every class has some contribution to make to the common good. The welfare of society is not to be won at the expense of any of' its members. The good of each is the good of all. Barriers of class hatred and mutual suspicion only hinder progress. Many of us have got to learn that Ginger Mick and his friends are valuable fellow-citizens, and capable of doing untold service to society if society deals wisely and justly with them. And Ginger Mick and his friends have likewise to learn that a man may be " a decent coot, an' white from cap to boot," even though "'e wears perjamers an' 'e cleans 'is teeth." They've shed their silly clobber an' the other stuff they wore Fer to 'ido the man beneath it in the past; An' each man is the clean, straight man 'is Maker meant 'im for, An' each man knows 'is brother man at last. Shy strangers, till a bugle blast preached 'oly brotherhood; But matesliip they 'ave found at last-; an' they 'ave found it good. The war and Mr Dennis have done a service to us all in so far as they have worked to reveal the truth that men of all ranks and classes are brothers, and the true man, whatever the accident of his birth and station, is the man who serves his fellows well. Let us hope and pray that, after the war is over, we may still remember that, in the activities and relationships of civil life. Ginger Mick's dying words were : " Look after Rose." We recall how, when Captain Scott perished amid the Antarctic blizzards, he charged the British nation to care for and provide for the friends and dependents of those who lost their lives in

his ill-fated expedition. We recall, too, 1 how the nation responded to that charge, and found it reasonable and just. Ginger i Mick and many thousands more have given : their lives in an even nobler struggle; > they have sacrificed themselves willingly in defence of our homes and liberties. We owe them more, even, than we owed to Captain Scott and his brave companions. • And they have left us—and are still leaving us—the same charge as he did. They i look to us to care for and provide for those who were dependent upon them. That is . a responsibility which we dare not forget. It will he a bitter shame to us as a nation . if ever we allow wife or child or dependent of our fallen soldiers to starve or to suffer . hardship by our neglect. There will be ! among the men who return those who are incapacitated for further labor, and will _ never bo able to support themselves. 1 Those, too, we. must care for—and we will. > Indeed, in many ways we shall have to ' watch over the interests of all our soldier lads. Some will drift very easily back 3 into civil life. For others the future will present a difficult, problem. As Ginger ' Mick puts it: , If you'll fergive our blushes, we can stand I The 'earty cheerin' an' the songs o' j" praise. r The loud 'Osannas nv our native land Makes us feel good an' glad in many f ways. B An' later, when we land back in a mob, e Per'aps we might be arstin' fer a job.

t But this problem of the returned soldier 5 and the soldiers' dependents will present 1 many difficulties., and the day may come r when we shall find it irksome. Just now, y while we realise so clearly the service they e have done us and the awful fate they have o protected us from, we are all more than '> willing. But the danger is that some day a we may forget; some day, when perhaps a > number of imposters have traded on our x gratitude and soured our sympathy; when e perhaps the grumblers have wearied our patience; when perhaps a period of dei- pression may come and the cost of peng sions and loans and one thing and another :e may press heavily on straitened purses, it Well, we must just resolve that we %vill ig not forget. We must resolve that everv id man who has fought our battles for us ■n must have a generous chance to make good r, in civil life when the war is done; and we r e must see to it that those who have lost }f their breadwinners, the wives and the r e children, are amply provided for.

re 'Eroes! It sounds a bit nv reel orl--t right—- " Our Gallant 'Eroes uv Gallipoli." But Ginger, when 'e's thinkin* there at e nigJitj io ** ose > an ' wot their is like to of After the echo dies uv all this praise, , Well— 5 e ain't dazzled wiv three loud ooiaya.

BAYONET BATTLES, PRUSSIAN GUARDS GIVE WAY BEFORE COLD STEEL. Pushing their way along the lower spurs of the Yimy Ridge, the Canadians fought a violent bayonet action. The - enemy, writes Mr W. Beach Thomas, threw in a first-class Prussian regiment of Grenadier Guards to hold a little hill scornfully known as the Pimple. The Canadians, unsated by three days' deadly fighting, dashed into the assault, and a hot bayonet fight developed. One soldier, whose bayonet caught and twisted in the green uniform, felt the German's point in his thigh, and, in the passion of the moment, dropped his own weapon, seized the German's, and at one effort wrenched it from his own flesh and out of the German's hand, finally felling the German with the butt end of the rifle. Such spirit was irresistible, and the remnant of the'. Prussian Guard gave way, leaving the majority of the garrison dead. On the eve of the battle two or our men, prisoners with the enemy, escaped to our lines. The story of these men will fill our Army with more fury than anything yet recorded against the enemy. They are men captured early in the year, and were at once set to work near the lines, sometimes under our shell fire. They were starved from the beginning; one who was 13st when captured is now Bst. One has a gangrenous foot, and the other is covered with boils. If they asked to cease work because of their weakness they were lashed with a whip or hit with the butt end of a rifle. On the way from the front 1 saw 2,000 prisoners. Among them were a considerable number of artillerymen, who separated themselves and drew off into the corner of the collecting " cage." Our officers thought at first they were proud : the truth was, as they themselves confessed, they were afraid—afraid that their "own infantry would mob them because they had fired so badly in the battle—and the fear was justified. The infantry were furious against all the artillery—the trench artillery as well as' theothers—because it had fired short, hitting its own men, fired late, fired wild, and sometimes not fired at all. Our artillery had knocked all the heart out of them. One or two were crazy, and the whole group had to be kept separate and protected by our men when finally the long procession moved away. '