Frontier to Metropolis

New Zealand Listener, Volume 30, Issue 765, 19 March 1954, Page 18

Frontier to Metropolis

| (By

JOSEPH

JONES

a Professor of English at the University. of

Texas, and recently in New Zealand as a Fulbright Lecturer in American Literature )

* VISITOR naturally, wellnigh inescapably, forms his opinions on the basis of the _place he came from. And when the visitor comes from an old civilisation into a new one, his observations may sometimes take such shape as to be uncongenial to the land he visits. Americans of last century found this to be true of numerous visitors from England, Frances Trollope and Charles | Dickens being the ones who most notori‘ously "insulted" America by observing | too many of the wrong things. But there /is less danger of such international in_compatability when an American visits | New Zealand, for the two countries have }a common pattern of experience which | becomes apparent after even a brief study. Both have grown from frontier towards metropolis in rapid fashion; both /have had similar problems incident to | such. a growth: a native population to _deal with, difficulties with land-tenuré, abrupt migrations to goldfields, the pro- | vision of transport and communication | over long distances and intractable terrain, the inevitable tensions between agricultural and commercial interests. The growth of New Zealand over a little more than one century appears foreshortened in comparison with the growth of the United States over somewhat more than three; but there are innumerable points from which comparisons may be drawn. Approaching New Zealand from the depths of an ignorance which was inno_cent but nonetheless profound, I have | been interested to find out if I «ould what points of contact between her experience and that of my homeland there might be. These I have sought chiefly in histories and literary works, and have begun to fit together a few pieces of a mosaic which admittedly a great deal more study must bring to anything approaching completion. The days of presettlement I find recreated in such books as Maning’s Old New Zealand and Best's The Maori As He Was, not to overlook much on the Maori and the bush in numerous travel-works and narratives based (as the title-page characteristic- ;

ally put it, on "a residence in New Zealand") by men of such varied interests and talents as Earle, Polack, Wakefield, Thomson, Taylor-to mention a few which I cannot always claim to have read from cover to cover, but have browsed in. The Utopian strain I find well illustrated in Thomas Cholmondeley’s Ultima Thule, which reveals much of what ‘young Englishmen of mid-cen-tury were expecting fromthe transplantation of what seemed to them a decadent "home" culture, But Cholmondeley did not linger long enough, or perhaps was too much interested in political theory, to come to grips with everyday affairs. Maning accepted the rough-and-tumble of pakeha-Maori life-not only accepted, but loved it; whereas in the writings -of others (more especially South Islanders, I should judge) the more trying impact of pioneering upon the cultivated Englishman is revealed: Such works as Butler’s A First Year in Canterbury Settlement, and Lady Barker’s Station Life in New Zealand stand in sharp contrast to Maning. The collision between Maori and pakeha I have found recorded in Maning’s War in the North and in Satchell’s The Greenstone Door, and am aware that more awaits me in Gorst's The Maori King. A New Zealand frontier literature of first magnitude appears, however, to: have been cut short after its tentative beginnings. Several reasons why, .as part of a«general explanation, may be suggested. First of all, it was only. a short time before the land frontier. was closed. And the _ frontiersman himself was generally a man more constitutionally. disposed to obliterate the frontier than to savour it-the most notable exception being Guthrie-Smith of Tutira, who, with all his passion for the wild, was nevertheless fundamentally dedicated to changing the face of the land. Too many _ potential. literary talents, furthermore, were pressed .im mediately into arduous public service: Fitzgerald, Domett, Reeves are some of them. There was also a colonial longing for "home"-a frontier hunger for comfort and elegance occasionally detectable in

American literature as well -that was perhaps, too. easily gratified by what, despite the distance, was a close contact with’ England. The New Zealander, in fact, stood at times in fear of "Americanisation," by which he meant vulgarisation-that is to say, the erosion of established patterns of morals and’ manners by a frontier society. Whether or not he also feared "Australianisation"’ (*"Americanisation" once removed) I cannot say with assurance, but I rather think he may. have. (Westward the course of "virtue" takes its way, it may be parenthetically observed: . the hard Roman feared. corruption by Hellenism, the Renaissance Englishman in turn saw himself in peril of being "Italianated," the post-revolutionary American suspected the effeteness of England+-to be similarly suspected by his own brethren farther west-and "Americanisation" became the béte noir of Australasia. For two thousand years and more, the West has dreaded contaminations from the East.) Finally, to the neglect of what would now be regarded as frontier literature, there was lack of interest on the part of determined and systematic collectors. In many circles there must have existed a subconscious feeling of contempt towards the material then current-ballads, camp-songs, tal! tales, anecdotes of the bush, the mine, the woolshed, the timber-country, the railroad-but there was also a strong preoccupation with the Maori heritage, a rich and seductive field of folklore, to the exclusion of much serious concern with the pakeha-primitive. In later New Zealand literature I have become aware of a strain of writing belonging to the expatriate (Katherine Mansfield is, of course, the most notable © example), and the fugitive, who may or may not actually have left the country; and to counter this, a nativist movement (or the beginnings of one) in Sargeson and others. Contemporary poetry strikes me as desiring very much to come: alive, with a realisation of what mechanisation and the growth of cities are beginning to bring. No longer content with’ versifying scenery or following in the wake of Europeans, the poets are stepping on people’s toes and asking questions-an encouraging sign, I should think. Undoubtedly, as I see it, there is already a literature in New Zealand, by New, Zealanders, that is worth study. The * question remains, should it be

studied as it were ina capsule, without reference to other literatures? I am doubtful if it should, for it seems to me there is a double danger in such an approach. Without external standards of comparison, any literature is likely to. take on exaggerated importance in the minds of its readers and interpreters, not to mention its writers; on the other | hand, if New Zealand literature were to | be studied by itself and then abruptly referred to an older, more extensive | literature, it might too easily be judged | insignificant, just as the map of New Zealand would seem to lose itself superimposed on Africa or North America. The most illuminating study of New Zealand literature, to my way of thinking, will relate it as closely as possible to all the literature, and the history, of the English-speaking world. To such an approach, a proportionate attention to American literature would | have much to contribute. In particular, | American literature and history would | offer the parallel of a society moving into and at length out of a frontier situation. To both nations, the close of the frontier implies a> sharp turning point for literature. In America, it is already becoming our problem to conserve on the intellectual level that generous degree of freedom which the frontier bequeathed us on the material level; and if we should seem to be floundering a little in our efforts to do sO, it would be charitable to recall that American experience with the libérations of the frontier is so recent that in some instances a few individuals who knew the latter phases of frontier life are still alive. And yet we Americans quite plainly no. longer live in a_ frontier nation; the processes of industrialisation and urbanisation have gone much too far for us to look for apology or take comfort in the traditional cliché that we are a "new" ‘country. To what extent is the same thing true of New Zealand? To that question I dare venture no categorical answer, but I would reiterate that a large part of the answer is to be sought within New Zealand literature, and that American literature will be useful to the search. Reciprocally, I can say to New Zealanders, the relatively small amount of attention I have lately been giving to your literature has already served to deepen understanding of my own.