- The Education of Young Donald Trilogy, by Donald Horne. NewSouth. $39.99.
This is a big book, at 797 pages. A paperback, it handles well, is very legible, but it is heavy. A reading stand might help. The first book in the trilogy by noted social commentator, Donald Horne, The Education of Young Donald, was first published in 1967, the second, Confessions of a New Boy, 1985 and the third, Portrait of an Optimist, in 1988.
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The Lucky Country, which made his fame and fortune, appeared in 1964, a vintage year for Horne. The Education of Young Donald was conceived as a kind of sequel in which he would test out "some of the book's earlier generalisations against the example of his own life".
Re-reading these three books after an interval of well over 30 years was quite a shock. In my memory, I thought the first a classic, was disappointed by book two as not reaching the earlier book's heights, and even more disappointed with the third.
I find I was wrong. The books have not changed, they are reprinted exactly as they first appeared. I must have.
The Education is set first in Muswellbrook, in the Hunter Valley, where the boy - born in 1921 - lives with his parents, his father a government school teacher, his mother on home duties. It was a lively time: bridge parties, tennis parties, friends forever dropping in, food lavished on all guests.
There are happy to trips to family in Sydney. Donald fitted in well, at home and in the town and is clearly a very able student. Quick and responsive to ideas, liked and admired by those who taught him, he sets off to Maitland Boys High and again triumphs
Then the mood of the book turns, savagely and remains bleak and oppressed in all that is to follow. His father is transferred to Sydney. They know no-one where they settle, there are no longer guests or parties.
His father's mental health collapses as a result of his war service, he is hospitalised and will never work again. Donald's mental agility and charm fail to impress his teachers. He is just a number to be examined.
He triumphs, winning a scholarship to the University of Sydney where he will study Arts. The remainder of Young Donald, nearly exactly half, is devoted to factional battles, more poetic than political, among the student body.
Horne becomes an aggressive, argumentative drunk, the last to leave every party, often the next morning. Some readers, now that the issues are long forgotten, might find these battles unimportant and inflated.
I found much to relish, though, in the remaining two books. Horne does not complete his degree, but instead becomes a gunner in the Australian Military Forces.
He was not a natural soldier, he sees much stupidity in the military, as do his fellow soldier/sufferers, but he tries. The natural humour which is Horne's stock-in-trade prevails now.
Appointed to the first intake of diplomatic cadets, where he might do better than as a gunner, Horne moves to Canberra, to Brassey House.
The drinking continues unabated, he enjoys some of what he is studying, he makes friends, but Canberra is worse than he could have expected.
Frequent trips to Sydney, and now a girlfriend who teaches him much, alleviate some of the horror. Holiday work takes Horne to journalism, the Daily Telegraph. Finally he has found something he is good at, though he doesn't much approve of his skill.
In the third book, Horne is married, living with his mother-in-law and two decrepit, mean-spirited "dowagers" in a ghastly English village in a house that is near ruin. Horne is now a novelist. He writes two novels, neither is published, and he has no money. His wife borrows against her trust.
In a round-about way he falls in again with Frank Packer, who appoints his as editor of Weekend, a national venture in sleaze, at which Horne succeeds, taking the sales figures - once - over 500 000.
Then Packer appoints Horne editor of The Observer, he will start it from scratch, a national fortnightly of intellectual pretensions. The book ends, with the best line in the whole 800 pages, as the first run of The Observer comes off the press. Horne is just 36.
Readers will learn a great deal about journalism, power, politics, world-weariness, the business of "settling-down" and the tribulations of sex, relationships and lack of money.
They find an Australia that is shabby, mean, intellectually impoverished, fearful and forever looking elsewhere for inspiration. In this sense, the writing goes hand-in-hand with The Lucky Country.
A scholarly comment on the back says that the book "introduces [Horne] to a new generation of readers". It may well do, but I wonder why. Readers will need stamina.
- Donald Horne launched Michael McKernan's first book.