True History of the Kelly Gang by Peter Carey

 True History of the Kelly Gang by Peter Carey

Like the gang keeps saying- “adjectival” book, but I need also to add- astounding, fabulous and extraordinarily entertaining

It is an odd, wrong moment to write about a gang, when only a few hours ago, a band of terrorists has attacked people in Paris, killing over 120 and wounding- I do not know…more than 200?- in a typical Islamic State horrendous manner.

But let me stay with the astounding book by an author I had not really known, although he has written Oscar and Lucinda, a movie with the sensational Ralph Fiennes, that is based on the novel by the acclaimed Australian, winner of the Booker Prize.

It is the first book, as far as I can tell, that takes place in Australia that opens in my hands to a great delight.

The writing is particular, for the simple people of the Australian bush land, talk like illiterates, which they are mostly-

-          You was, they has and what I have started to enjoy very much : Adjectival

They say adjectival about anything and anyone, somewhat in the manner of Donnie Brasco, who took the catch phrase– “Forget about it!”- from the Mafiosi in his band, who used it for any event- be it a lion received as a gift and parked in…the back seat of an Oldsmobile.

The novel is entertaining, for when you do not laugh out loud, then the situation is really tense and you follow it breathlessly.

There is a caveat, from where I see this book, regarding the complete enjoyment and that is the humongous wrong that is done, not just to Ned Kelly but even more to innocent members of his gang and even their relatives.

The issue is how much of the fiction is based on facts and what is pure imagination, without any connection with what happened (?)

In this story, the poor people of the Kelly family and those they know are not just forced into fighting the so called “law”, but they are abused at almost every turn, when they try to stand up for their rights and even when they just sit so to say.

It is also true that the mentality was different and stealing a horse or a calf when the family was starving did not seem to present moral qualms and indeed, neither can I say that I feel I would react any different- or if I did, I can easily imagine being worse than the heroes of these legendary and –what else- adjectival exploits.

At an early stage I was mad with Ned Kelly and almost thought about giving up on him and his story, which seemed to announce astounding outrage and cruelty, for he steals and kills a calf in the swamp or some wet field.

I was flabbergasted to read how he killed the poor animal, with repeated and unsuccessful knife wounds that managed only to torture the creature and not kill him, until it is painful to read and imagine it all.

It must be said that throughout the book- as mentioned, I’d be curious to know about real life- Ned Kelly is not just decent towards animals that he does not need to kill and eat, but towards horses in particular he is even tender.

With people he is rather polite and humane, again, except when he needs to be rough, but even then, when a bank needs to be robbed, he acts gentlemanly towards women and hostages, not harming them in the least.

That cannot be said about the police and even politicians who are the real villains, at least in the fictional domain, where they imprison Ned, his mother, relatives and friends with every chance they get, notwithstanding the fact that this was illegal and an outright abuse.

The book is nearly perfect, with adventure, search parties, humor, a touching love story and heroes that the reader gets attached to, even if they are on the “wrong „side of the law, because the “traps” are almost always mean and “adjectival”.

The love that Ned Kelly proves for his mother is in particular arcane- someone in the book even calls it a kind of perverted emotion.

I would not delve into a Freudian exploration of the Oedipal complex for I would not know where to start for once and then, from the psychology books that I have kept reading over the past years, I fathom that Freud was wrong with his penis envy and general exaggerated emphasis on sex as the only major explanation for…well, anything

This is an extraordinary history, even if not “true „as the title claims.

One of my favorite “adjectival”books