A Room Made of Leaves
Page 25
There is a bush down by the river that in this season is hung with a thousand seed pods, each one twisted like a question mark. They dance silvery pale among the dark leaves, the whole bush laughing, it seems, trembling in the breeze, the fine leaves and the tiny curved pods asking their question. I stop as I pass, and smile as if at an old friend.
And in a way it is an old friend, because when I see it I think of Mr Dawes. He would have enjoyed the question-mark bush. I can imagine him saying, If we wait long enough, Mrs Macarthur, the entire sentence may be revealed to us.
Well, Mr Dawes, I would like to hear that sentence. And I am ready to wait.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
No, there was no box of secrets found in the roof of Elizabeth Farm. I didn’t transcribe and edit what you’ve just read. I wrote it.
But this story follows the events and people who emerge from the letters, journals, and official documents of the early years of the colony of New South Wales. The extracts from her letters that ‘Elizabeth Macarthur’ quotes are from the letters of the real Elizabeth Macarthur.
I’ve taken some liberties in order to shape this work of fiction. The passage of time and the order of some real events have become a little slithery in my hands, for example, and two governors have become one. This book isn’t history.
At the same time it’s not pure invention. Those old documents were my inspiration and my guide. I arrived at this story by thinking about them in the way ‘Elizabeth Macarthur’ recommends: by not believing too quickly.
Kate Grenville
Readers’ notes and further information about this book can be found on my website: kategrenville.com.au
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’m very grateful to the Darug Custodian Aboriginal Corporation (in particular Leanne Watson and Erin Wilkins) and the Metropolitan Local Aboriginal Land Council (in particular Nathan Moran). Both groups welcomed me warmly and were generous with their time and knowledge. I thank them, and the others in their organisations, for being so willing to engage with this attempt to explore aspects of our shared history. As a non-indigenous writer I’m conscious of how easy it is, in telling stories about the past, to be blind to our own cultural blindness. Please accept my warmest appreciation of the generosity you showed me.
I’d like to thank the many people who went out of their way to advise on the indigenous aspects of this story: Trish Adjei, Andrew Bovell, Wenona Byrne, Heather Goodall, Ashley Hay, Anita Heiss, Kim Mahood, Bruce Pascoe, and Chris Wallace.
Melissa Lucashenko took precious time out of her own project to read the manuscript and make insightful and valuable comments—thank you again, Melissa. My warmest thanks also to Lynette Russell and Ramona Koval. Both these kind friends read the manuscript and encouraged me in my many moments of doubt.
For expert and generous consultation about the so-called Battle of Parramatta, I’m deeply indebted to Stephen Gapps and Henry Reynolds (though they shouldn’t be held responsible for Mrs Macarthur’s speculations). On matters of botany, Patrick Matthew shared his expertise with his usual insight and humour—thank you, Patrick. For saving me from many ignorant errors about sheep, I’m indebted to Suzanne, Sal and George Falkiner, and to Barbara Holloway. As one writer to another, Susan Hampton selflessly made over to me some vivid sheep-lore she’d been saving for writing of her own—thanks, Susan, for your generosity. On matters of early colonial houses I’m grateful to Robert Griffin for sharing his knowledge with me. Any mistakes on any of these matters are mine alone.
Eve Salinas will recognise an important line that came out of her kindness towards me. Judith Upton, of Cornwall Online Parish Clerks, went out of her way to help me with detailed information relating to the parish records for Bridgerule. Thank you, Judith, for your guidance and for the work you and your fellow volunteers do.
Dr Helena Berenson gave informed advice about the possible nature of John Macarthur’s ailments, as well as unfailing support and friendship.
Michelle Scott Tucker was generous in encouraging and advising another admirer of Elizabeth Macarthur. Her excellent book Elizabeth Macarthur: A Life at the Edge of the World will remain the standard biography of that remarkable woman for a long time to come.
The extracts and image from Elizabeth Macarthur’s letters are from the Macarthur Papers in the collections of the Mitchell Library, State Library of NSW, and are used with the kind permission of the library.
My first readers, as always, were Tom and Alice Petty. Their encouragement means more than I can say. I’m undeservedly blessed to have them in my life.