Twisting the Australian realist short story: Murray Bail’s “Camouflage”

Abstract

Although the short story is regarded as a minor genre in many literary traditions, it is arguably a major one in Australian literature, which, more specifically, was long dominated by the realist short story. Deriving from the colonial “yarns”, the so-called “hard-luck stories” were indeed felt to be characterized by a realism that was in turn seen to result from the archetypal dryness of Australia itself. While the contemporary Australian writer Murray Bail has repeatedly questioned the realistic quality of his homeland’s literature, he has also sought to broaden the subgenre to which it has often been reduced, namely bush realism. With “Camouflage” (1998), Bail appropriates the hard-luck story to convey a marginal perspective. This article shows how this strategy of revision allows him to contest both the archetypality of bush realism and the stereotypical perceptions of the Australian landscape, thereby problematizing the highly controversial relationship between place and literature.

Keywords:

• Murray Bail
• “Camouflage”
• Australian short fiction
• hard-luck stories
• realism
• subversion

Notes

1. It is worth bearing in mind that, in the context of this article, the term “genre” may relate to both realism and the short story. What the term exactly refers to has, as far as possible, been clarified in the text’s relevant passages.

2. In some cases, unrealistic details are even carefully avoided when they could easily have been used. In the story prompted by E. bicostata (or Southern Blue Gum), for example, an Arcimboldian “fruitologist” reproduces the face of a woman he fancies in a fruit display, but leaves empty spaces for the eyes because he cannot find blue fruit. See Bail ([1998] 1999, 125–129).

3. In the story induced by E. socialis (Red Mallee), for instance, a “canariologist” named Clem Sackler is devastated by the loss of his favourite bird, which has escaped through an open window. By some extraordinary stroke of luck, he spots it at last in a nearby house: manifestly attracted there by the sound of music, it has taken refuge on the shoulder of the owner, who is also a piano player. With a view to getting back his canary, the breeder starts taking piano lessons with the woman, called Heide Kirschner. Despite his own attraction to his teacher, Sackler does not lose sight of his main purpose and takes the bird back home – only to find it dead the next morning. See Bail ([1998] 1999, 192–197).

4. Although the text does not spell this out, it may be assumed that Bail’s irony is also directed at the literary critics who make a career out of discussing others’ artworks – but may be failed artists themselves.