Murray's Myrtales*

Given that there are more than 700 species of eucalypts in Australia, it would appear that this is a country where they have roamed far and wide and endlessly invented themselves depending on where they found themselves. No other tree is as emblematic of the country, its omnipresence an indication that the tree is not an accommodating soul. All this has everything and nothing to do with Murray Bail's endlessly inventive novel, Eucalyptus. Part fairy tale, part botanist's manual (such evocative common names as Pumpkin Gum, Yellow Jacket, Barber’s Gum, Kakadu Woollybutt, Manna Gum, Gympie Messmate & Bastard Tallowwood pepper the book) and part post-modern collection of innumerable truncated inconclusive parables, what most permeates it is whimsicality and wisdom. It starts off with a princess in a tower (no, not really its just Ellen Holland up on a tower slapped onto a NSW property) a beauty speckled with birthmarks and beauty spots whose hand may only be won by the man who can correctly name all the eucalyptus species on her father's property. This fantastic yet simple premise results in a Mr. Cave who identifies all the trees but cannot tell a story. Not so the Stranger who haunts the eucapytus groves of Mr. Holland’s property and takes each tree as the starting point for a modern day fable ("In one of the harbourside haciendas in Vaucluse lived a small bright-eyed woman in gold sandals who had been married and divorced so many times she had trouble remembering her current name"). Each of these stories naturally has something to say about Ellen’s situation - or perhaps not. Who will win the speckled beauty's hand? Bail's story is singular, erudite, raises questions on how we live our lives. It is also hugely playful - its’ most marvellous random excursion is the National Geographic photographer who comes, records and names all the trees without him or anyone else being aware of it (Bail I am quite sure doesn't like photographers).

Immersed in the book, you begin to note the musicality and the nature in train stops - RedFern, Wolli Creek, ArnCliffe, Banksia, RockDale and so on.

I wanted to bookmark too many parts of the book, here are just a few bits from it.

"Her father had warned her about men. Did that include fathers?"
"…the formidable instinct in men to measure, which is often mistaken for pessimism, is counterbalanced by the unfolding optimism of women, which is nothing less than life itself; their endless trump card."
"A person meets thousands of different people across a lifetime, a woman thousands of different men, of all shades, and many more if she constantly passes through different parts of the world. Even so, of the many different people a person on average meets it is rare for one to fit almost immediately in harmony and general interest. For all the choices available, the odds are enormous. The miracle is there to be grasped".

* Myrtales is the order to which eucalypts belong.