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James K. Baxter Complete Prose Volume 1

Tribal Behaviour

Tribal Behaviour

Barry Crump and Stewart Kinross are both intelligent writers, and each in his own way is a satirist. In Crump’s case the satire could be described as heavy sniping with a ˑ303 rifle. This new book about Sam Cash, the wandering Kiwi yarn-spinner, is in no sense a new departure; it is simply a sister volume to One of Us, the book in which Ka Lung Crump unrolled his swag to entertain whoever happened to be listening, and incidentally poured borax on every life-form that New Zealand has so far developed, with the possible exception of drunks, dogs and horses.

The first two-thirds of There and Back is occupied with Sam Cash’s relations (financial, advisory, and even theological) with a publican, a farmer, a bush-boss, and several other people. The story ambles on quietly, and the body of it lies either in meticulous accounts of work done, or else in Sam Cash’s pungent yarns about Old Hammergun and Saddleblanket, friends of his. But the Hero lacks an offsider till Arnie Small puts in an appearance – too late, I felt – in the seventeenth chapter.

In some ways Sam Cash is any New Zealander’s idea of himself (self-reliant, competent, full of Odyssean cunning) and Arnie Small, the embryonic no- hoper, is the sadder reality. When the two are together, the story tightens up, and the full resonance of Crump’s satire can be enjoyed or endured. I did enjoy it greatly. And Crump’s prose has now reached the limit of terseness and laconic energy.

On the face of it. Stewart Kinross’s satire is much kinder. I had heard his account of the meteoric career of Sid Smith, that champion batsman of the cow paddock, on the air, and woken up from my after-dinner coma to recognise a first-rate radio humorist. I was prepared to be disappointed by the book; for it is extremely hard to keep the humour from oozing out in cold print. But Stewart Kinross’s warm, witty account of small township habits and customs is, like Crump’s saga, worth its weight in borax. And he explores an area which Crump has tended to neglect – the mating habits of the adult Kiwi – with an irony which indicates that his easy-going style may be a trifle deceptive.

page 653

A clear eye for significant detail – the sticky paint on the church pews, a hat blown into the water, a girl’s choice of a manageable partner – gives this satirist his peculiar strength. These accurate reports on New Zealand tribal behaviour have more to say than many of our novels do. And nothing can be funnier than a participant’s account of what actually did happen at the family picnic.

1963 (304)