What do you think?
Rate this book
Joe Wilson's Mates
This collection of fifty six of Henry Lawson's stories includes much of his finest work, and most of his longer pieces. Joe Wilson in "Water Them Geraniums" became something of a self portrait for this much loved writer, who is seen here at his best
Paperback
First published January 1, 1901
About the author
Henry Lawson
530 books44 followersLibrarian Note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.
Henry Lawson was an Australian writer and poet. Along with his contemporary Banjo Paterson, Lawson is among the best-known Australian poets and fiction writers of the colonial period and is often called Australia's "greatest writer".[1] He was the son of the poet, publisher and feminist Louisa Lawson.
For more info see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_La... .
Henry Lawson was an Australian writer and poet. Along with his contemporary Banjo Paterson, Lawson is among the best-known Australian poets and fiction writers of the colonial period and is often called Australia's "greatest writer".[1] He was the son of the poet, publisher and feminist Louisa Lawson.
For more info see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_La... .
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
September 3, 2012
This “novel” is not the historical sailing novel I thought it would be when I picked it up. In fact, the conceit of the book is that it is a diary written by a pioneering bushman in Australia. Although there wasn’t a lot of “plot” in the sense of mystery or adventure, the first half of my eBook edition (roughly corresponding to Volume I, apparently) was a pleasant account of what it took to settle a “selection” in the Bush and how “close to the bone” these people had to live. A major section dealt with courting the daughter of one of these settlers and a subsequent marriage.
The most exciting part of that was when the protagonist, Joe Wilson, got into a fight over the daughter and then, tried to hide his injured face from her. But the most interesting part was a shooting related to mistaken identity. I won’t offer a spoiler as to where the bullets or shotgun shot actually went, but I will suggest that it changed the relationship between Joe and his intended for the better.
Indeed, their relationship was so much improved for the better that they married and had a child. Wilson named the boy “Jim” because most of his mates were named Jim (and his brother-in-law named “James”). Unfortunately, the child was susceptible to high fevers and the Wilsons had to live through several crises. Even in the relatively matter-of-fact accounts of these crises, I found my empathy quotient increasing as I visualized trying to deal with an infant with high fever when one may be several day’s ride away from a doctor, much less a hospital.
Even the narrative about purchasing a buggy for his wife was an interesting account. Within this section, I liked Joe Wilson’s observation about his own attitude toward money: “…the farther I got away from poverty the greater the fear I had of it—“ (p. 286). Wow! Does that little line describe what I’ve seen in my own family members who survived the Great Depression in the U.S. and in the immigrant mentality when I see people from other countries come to the U.S. after hard times elsewhere.
The second half of the book was slightly more interesting to me. Perhaps, this is the “his mates” portion of the book and, again, it is purported to be Volume II in Lawson’s notes. The loosely collated stories seem to have a rotating cast of characters and contained a bit more mystery than the rest of the book (volumes?). One of the stories had to do with gold mining. It has some detailed descriptions of panning and using a “rocker,” but it also has some renegade prospectors digging under a cemetery to chase an alluvial vein: “…a theory in alluvial gold-mining was much like a theory in gambling, in some respects. The theory might be right enough, but old volcanic disturbances—‘the shrinkage of the earth’s surface,’ and that sort of old thing—upset everything.” (p. 335)
There are two “ghost stories” in the collection. I suppose you can’t have prospectors without having ghost stories. As our narrator (still presumably Joe Wilson) tells us, nothing looks spookier than something out in the Bush. I don’t want to actually give it away, but there are rational (and somewhat humorous) explanations for both of the mysterious sightings.
My favorite story in the collection, however, was the one about the “loaded dog.” I don’t want to give the entire plot away, but I can set up the tale for you. Some prospectors not only used their powder to ease their digging, but they used it for “dynamite fishing,” as well. (It wasn’t actually dynamite, but you get the idea.) Imagine a sack of powder with a long, lit fuse and a dog trying to play fetch with it. The dog thinks its “friends” are just playing when they run away from him. It’s a potentially fatal hot potato and the climax is worth waiting for. It was, for me, the most tense portion of the book at the same time I was chuckling with a sadistic glee I haven’t allowed to escape since watching The Three Stooges as a kid.
One of the stories is about breaking horses and it has the kinds of details that ring true. The horseman says, “I know that horse; he’s got a mouth like iron.” Well, the horse people I knew usually referred that to a horse which had become spoiled and disobedient as opposed to an unbroken horse who didn’t respond, but I guess both could be used. The accusation concerning the horse in the story proved unfounded, however, but it was amusing to read what the Bushmen were up to.
To be honest, I love the names in this collection: Dead Dingo, Potted Dingo, Dry-Hole Creek, and Tinned Dog, among others. The best summary I can give of this book is to imagine the U.S. frontier with a slightly wilder flavor. Lots of cattle are driven, lots of drinks are knocked down, and lots of wagers are placed within these pages. Death is always present, but there isn’t a lot of gun play.
If you’re looking for a fast-moving, contemporary style of historical fiction in the Patrick O’Brian, Bernard Cornwell, or Dewey Lambdin, you’re sure to be disappointed. If you want a leisurely tour of an Outback that doesn’t exist anymore (at least, as described here), Joe Wilson and His Mates is simultaneously a travelogue and a time machine. It wasn’t what I was looking for, but I was glad I found it.
The most exciting part of that was when the protagonist, Joe Wilson, got into a fight over the daughter and then, tried to hide his injured face from her. But the most interesting part was a shooting related to mistaken identity. I won’t offer a spoiler as to where the bullets or shotgun shot actually went, but I will suggest that it changed the relationship between Joe and his intended for the better.
Indeed, their relationship was so much improved for the better that they married and had a child. Wilson named the boy “Jim” because most of his mates were named Jim (and his brother-in-law named “James”). Unfortunately, the child was susceptible to high fevers and the Wilsons had to live through several crises. Even in the relatively matter-of-fact accounts of these crises, I found my empathy quotient increasing as I visualized trying to deal with an infant with high fever when one may be several day’s ride away from a doctor, much less a hospital.
Even the narrative about purchasing a buggy for his wife was an interesting account. Within this section, I liked Joe Wilson’s observation about his own attitude toward money: “…the farther I got away from poverty the greater the fear I had of it—“ (p. 286). Wow! Does that little line describe what I’ve seen in my own family members who survived the Great Depression in the U.S. and in the immigrant mentality when I see people from other countries come to the U.S. after hard times elsewhere.
The second half of the book was slightly more interesting to me. Perhaps, this is the “his mates” portion of the book and, again, it is purported to be Volume II in Lawson’s notes. The loosely collated stories seem to have a rotating cast of characters and contained a bit more mystery than the rest of the book (volumes?). One of the stories had to do with gold mining. It has some detailed descriptions of panning and using a “rocker,” but it also has some renegade prospectors digging under a cemetery to chase an alluvial vein: “…a theory in alluvial gold-mining was much like a theory in gambling, in some respects. The theory might be right enough, but old volcanic disturbances—‘the shrinkage of the earth’s surface,’ and that sort of old thing—upset everything.” (p. 335)
There are two “ghost stories” in the collection. I suppose you can’t have prospectors without having ghost stories. As our narrator (still presumably Joe Wilson) tells us, nothing looks spookier than something out in the Bush. I don’t want to actually give it away, but there are rational (and somewhat humorous) explanations for both of the mysterious sightings.
My favorite story in the collection, however, was the one about the “loaded dog.” I don’t want to give the entire plot away, but I can set up the tale for you. Some prospectors not only used their powder to ease their digging, but they used it for “dynamite fishing,” as well. (It wasn’t actually dynamite, but you get the idea.) Imagine a sack of powder with a long, lit fuse and a dog trying to play fetch with it. The dog thinks its “friends” are just playing when they run away from him. It’s a potentially fatal hot potato and the climax is worth waiting for. It was, for me, the most tense portion of the book at the same time I was chuckling with a sadistic glee I haven’t allowed to escape since watching The Three Stooges as a kid.
One of the stories is about breaking horses and it has the kinds of details that ring true. The horseman says, “I know that horse; he’s got a mouth like iron.” Well, the horse people I knew usually referred that to a horse which had become spoiled and disobedient as opposed to an unbroken horse who didn’t respond, but I guess both could be used. The accusation concerning the horse in the story proved unfounded, however, but it was amusing to read what the Bushmen were up to.
To be honest, I love the names in this collection: Dead Dingo, Potted Dingo, Dry-Hole Creek, and Tinned Dog, among others. The best summary I can give of this book is to imagine the U.S. frontier with a slightly wilder flavor. Lots of cattle are driven, lots of drinks are knocked down, and lots of wagers are placed within these pages. Death is always present, but there isn’t a lot of gun play.
If you’re looking for a fast-moving, contemporary style of historical fiction in the Patrick O’Brian, Bernard Cornwell, or Dewey Lambdin, you’re sure to be disappointed. If you want a leisurely tour of an Outback that doesn’t exist anymore (at least, as described here), Joe Wilson and His Mates is simultaneously a travelogue and a time machine. It wasn’t what I was looking for, but I was glad I found it.
Read
July 15, 2019This is technically a dnf because technically I haven't finished it. But, I'm reading this for Uni and if I get more time during the term I intend to go back and read some more, though not because I want to. I've read 60 pages of this, and honestly, that was 60 pages more than I wanted to read.
July 6, 2024
What's not to like... Henry Lawson!! ...although I did have to get my head around some of his racist and misogynistic statements reflecting the time this was written; although often, I suspect put by him into the mouths of others, to make a point as to their inappropriateness.
February 12, 2017
These four stories involving Joe Wilson, his wife Mary, son Jim and in-law James are wonderful, well written, and intrinsically Australian.
January 20, 2016
Henry Lawson, said to be the 'voice of the bush' is one of Australian's finest writers. He punctured the heroic myth of the Australian settlers with pessimistic realism that is unforgettable. See my review at http://anzlitlovers.wordpress.com/201...
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews