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Book Review
| Graham Seal, 'Tell 'em I Died Game': the Legend of Ned Kelly, Hyland House, Flemington, Victoria, 2002. pp. xvii + 174. $24.95 paper.
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| Just when you thought it was safe! The extraordinary success of Peter Carey's book on the Kellys and the release of two films devoted to the bushranger in 2003 have led, yet again, to an upsurge in the publication of Kelly material. Most of the publications are re-issues of works written over the last 30 years. Some, quite frankly, were better left alone. But some, like Seal's book, are a welcome return. The original version of this work was published in 1980 and, at the time, marked a new departure in Kelly scholarship. Seal was the first to tie together the disparate threads of history, folklore and popular culture in a sustained analysis of Ned Kelly and the Kelly Outbreak. Seal notes in his introduction that he has seen little need to revise the original work in any substantial way beyond replacing the clerk's copy of the Jerilderie Letter with the genuine article. His instinct is sound: the material remains as fresh and, sometimes, as provocative as it was when it was first published. |
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But the author does acknowledge the changes and publications that have appeared over the last 20 years. The most robust chapter in the book is 'Poor Ned, You're Better Off Dead'. Here the author examines the books, exhibitions, films and the proliferation of 'genuine' nineteenth century documents relating to Kelly with an astute eye. He notes the intervention of a conservative federal government to ensure that one of the shoulder guards from Ned Kelly's armour would remain in Victoria, surely one of the more ironic aspects of Kelly's story. He also links Kelly's persistence in Australia's popular culture with Anzac and a growing uncertainty in the country reflected in the rise of One Nation. Seal also takes on board the development of Ned Kelly's place in a multi-cultural Australia which had yet to be invented when he wrote the first edition over 20 years ago (although he does use 'Anglo-Celtic' which is surely one of the most a-historical descriptions developed over the last 20 years). In the process, he argues that the persistence of Kelly owes as much to broader folkloric traditions (that lock Kelly into a more universal view of justice, law, tribulations and heroes) as to local issues. There are moments of farce in the chapter, like the plans to exhume the 'real' Dan Kelly's body from its grave in Queensland to prove that he did not die at Glenrowan. And then there is the history of Ned Kelly's skull. For some obscure reason, the fate of Ned's skull has preoccupied many of those interested in Kelly from 1880. It was buried in the precincts of Old Melbourne Gaol; it was used as a paperweight by a clerk in a government office; it was carefully stored and then put on display only to be stolen — then properly buried at Greta. |
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It seems that Ned Kelly will be with us for some time and his story will be told and re-told, interpreted and re-interpreted, for better or worse. |
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| University of Wollongong |
JOHN McQUILTON | |
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