[Editor: This article, regarding the Kangaroo and Map stamps, was published in The Argus (Melbourne, Vic.), 1 March 1913.]
Making a nation ridiculous.
By Professor Tucker.
I have just affixed my first Australian stamp to a European letter. An unused stock of the old and fairly respectable issue had postponed the evil day, but at last I have been compelled to join the rest of my compatriots in rendering our country ridiculous. The silly token selected by the Commonwealth is now on its way to a civilised community, and is bound to move the recipient to a mixture of laughter and scorn. Unfortunately, one will not be there to offer palliations. There will be no immediate opportunity of letting him understand that we are really not so bad as all that. Perhaps, if one did assure him that the average Australian treats the thing with loud and unqualified contempt, he would simply ask, “Then how comes it to be tolerated?” And to that, I fear, it would be difficult to find a sufficiently precise or convincing answer. The stamp is a fact; Australia permits it to remain a fact; and the outer world is justified in supposing that a kangaroo rampant on an infantile map duly represents the most artistic taste, the noblest aspirations, and the proudest boast of all our millions of population over millions of square miles.
“Obviously,” our friend will say, “the creature which best typifies Australia is the kangaroo. It is evidently the production to which you look with warmest affection, highest admiration, and most lofty hopes. It may be true that you kill it as vermin, and collect its scalp. That is manifestly only your way of concealing your love for it.” Would it be of any use to inform him that the motive was quite different? In point of fact, I am not very sure what the motive is. At the first glance, I was inclined to fancy it a symbol for the doctrine “Australia for the Australians.” So regarded, it seemed to put that motto in a more logical light than usual. Commonly, it is true, “Australia for the Australians” has come to mean “Australia for those of us who were lucky enough to get here before the cry was invented.” But as the original Australian native appears to have been the kangaroo, the doctrine, if pressed, would seem to give him the first claim to the continent. Yet I hardly think the present Ministry intended quite so much. If, however, the pretty picture really does mean “Australia for the Australians,” I would venture, with all humility, to suggest an improvement in the next issue. I would put boxing gloves upon the animal. Europe has heard of the Boxing Kangaroo, and the allusion would be particularly neat. Moreover, those who have been capable of soaring to the heights of art represented in the stamp as it is will at once realise how dainty an addition — even from a purely artistic point of view — would be made by a pair of such gloves. They would, as it were, brighten up the picture — take from its baldness and jejunity. Those, again, who have proved capable of reaching the sublimities of national sentiment embodied in the present device cannot fail to appreciate the admirable enrichment which would be made to the symbolism. The Boxing Kangaroo, holding Australia against all-comers, would be emblematic of a fine resolve on our part, and would be sufficiently intimidating to any lions or eagles (even double-headed ones) who might have designs upon us. The high spirit of the kangaroo and its formidableness in a good cause are, of course, notorious. Let us do him justice. He may not be, like the lion of Great Britain, the king of beasts. He may not, like the eagle of France or Germany, sail with supreme dominion through the azure, or any other fields. He has never been known to utter a paralysing roar, or shake the grisly terrors of his mane. He cannot soar to meet the sun, or ruffle his feathers by the throne of Jove. He has no more intellect than a rabbit. But he can box a little, when properly trained, and when an “old man” has run away as long as run he can, he has been known to get his back against a tree and put in good work with a kick. Moreover, his tail makes a tolerably good soup. All this one might plead in defence of the Australian stamp. But we can hardly expect foreigners to understand so much at a glance, nor can we expect much admiration from them if they do.
We might do worse than endeavour to see ourselves as others will see us. A pretty thing in stamps of the United States would be a scratch map of the borders, with a chipmunk gardant somewhere on the Mississippi. The moral and intellectual qualities of the chipmunk may not in the least resemble those of Uncle Sam; but there are chipmunks in the United States (with motto “nemo me impune lacessit”), just as there are kangaroos in Australia; and a line wriggled into the shape of the United States would, like our own stamp, tell you where to look for the country in the atlas. You thus get lessons in geography and natural history simultaneously. Again, a map of Persia, with a blue kitten couchant would grace any stamp album, and would afford excellent teaching material for the kindergarten. Or one might try the negative tack. Very taking would be a map of the new and independent Ireland, with the legend “No snakes.”
Is the Commonwealth to be made further ridiculous by its choice of a name for the Federal capital? Why the place cannot simply be called Canberra, many of us fail to understand. The word is quite as euphonious as Ottawa or Calcutta. It would serve as a record of honourable growth of the nation, and would provide some historical romance for posterity, if a Canberra came to exalt itself from a poor little settlement into a centre of importance to the world. “Myola” sounds no better; it comes dangerously near to suggesting the cry of the cat at one of its all-night sittings; and, according to Mr. Mathew, it is no word at all. A thousand other combinations of syllables would be equally euphonious, equally authentic, and equally arbitrary. I had myself thought that, as the name might conveniently commemorate both the fact of Federation and the services of a uniquely-gifted statesman “Omalgam” would look nice in print. Its choice would kill two birds — not to mention our credit for sanity — at the same time. But, on second thoughts, if the kangaroo is to be the emblem of our people, we might do worse than style the town “Rooville.” Or, rather, since the kangaroo is already sufficiently honoured, I would ask what the platypus has done to be thus ignored. To make the name more sonorous, let us suggest “Ornithorhynchus.” That appellation, I imagine, would sufficiently challenge the attention of the world. And, after all, it is no longer than “Constantinople.” True, “Constantinople” means the city selected by Constantine, and so possesses the fullest historical significance. But is not an ornithorhynchus “a beast with a bill”? Whether as the haunt of the legislator, or of the tax-imposer, there will be ample, if not excessive, historical truth about the “beast with a bill.”
I do not, of course, hope to produce much effect on the powers that be. But, under the heels of the powers that be there lies a suffering continent, and even Mr. O’Malley is said to have his sympathies for the sufferings of all that inferior humanity from which he stands out so — conspicuously Hence this timid attempt at suggestion and appeal.
Source:
The Argus (Melbourne, Vic.), 1 March 1913, p. 6
Also published (abridged) in:
Darling Downs Gazette (Toowoomba, Qld.), 7 March 1913, p. 6 (entitled: Professor Tucker: And that stamp: Indignant scholar)
The Maitland Daily Mercury (West Maitland, NSW), 10 April 1913, p. 6 (entitled: Our kangaroo stamp: A sarcastic professor)
The Maitland Weely Mercury (West Maitland, NSW), 12 April 1913, p. 5 (entitled: Our kangaroo stamp: A sarcastic professor)
Editor’s notes:
azure = the blue of a clear unclouded sky [in this article, “azure … fields” is a reference to the sky]
Commonwealth = the government of the Commonwealth of Australia, i.e. the federal government of Australia
couchant = (regarding animals) lying belly down, with front legs extended and the head raised (especially for use in heraldry); in a lying position; crouching
eagle = the symbol of several nations and states (e.g. the empires of France, Germany, Russia, and the Holy Roman Empire, and the countries of Mexico, Panama, and the USA)
euphonious = pleasing in sound; pleasing to the ear
gardant = (also spelt “guardant”) in heraldry, the positioning of an animal with its face fully turned towards the viewer, but with its body viewed from the side
jejunity = the condition or state of being jejune: immature, naive, simplistic, uninformed, unsophisticated; boring, dull, lacking substance, old-fashioned, uninteresting, unsatisfying
Jove = an alternate name for Jupiter; in Roman mythology, Jupiter was king of the gods, as well as the god of sky and thunder (“by Jove” is an exclamatory phrase, denoting excitement or surprise; the phrase was a way of saying “by God” without blaspheming)
lion = the symbol of several nations and states (e.g. Bohemia, Denmark, England, Finland, Scotland, and the United Kingdom)
See: “Lion (heraldry)”, Wikipedia
Mathew = the Rev. John Mathew (1849-1929), Presbyterian minister, anthropologist, expert on Aboriginal ethnography, and poet; he was born in 1849 in Aberdeen (Scotland), came to Australia in 1864, and died in Coburg (Vic.) in 1929
See: 1) M. D. Prentis, “Mathew, John (1849–1929)”, Australian Dictionary of Biography
2) “John Mathew”, Wikipedia
nemo me impune lacessit = (Latin) “no one provokes me with impunity”
See: “Nemo me impune lacessit”, Wikipedia
old man = an old man kangaroo (a adult male kangaroo, especially a large-sized one), also known as a “boomer”
O’Malley = King O’Malley (1858?-1953), insurance salesman and politician; he was apparently born in 1858, possibly in Valley Falls (Kansas, USA); according to his own account, he was born at Stamford Farm (Quebec, Canada), however, it is believed that his supposed Canadian birth was a fiction created to get around Australia’s law regarding citizenship and candidates for federal parliament; he came to Australia in 1888, and died in Albert Park (Vic.) in 1953
See: 1) Arthur Hoyle, “O’Malley, King (1858–1953)”, Australian Dictionary of Biography
2) “King O’Malley”, Wikipedia
Ornithorhynchus = Ornithorhynchus anatinus, the scientific name for the platypus
See: “Platypus”, Wikipedia
palliation = the alleviation, mitigation, or temporary relief of pain or of the symptoms of a disease; giving temporary relief or lessening the severity of pain or a medical condition
Professor Tucker = Thomas George Tucker (1859-1946), academic; he taught at the University of Melbourne from 1885 until his retirement in 1919 (although he did some occasional teaching there after retiring); he was born in Burnham (Buckinghamshire, England) in 1859, came to Australia in 1885, and died at Stope Cove (Devon, England) in 1946
See: 1) K. J. McKay, “Tucker, Thomas George (1859–1946)”, Australian Dictionary of Biography
2) “Professor Tucker, great classical scholar, dead”, The Argus (Melbourne, Vic.), 29 January 1946, p. 20
3) “Thomas George Tucker”, Wikipedia
rampant = (regarding animals) rearing up on both hind legs, with the front legs extended (especially for use in heraldry); in traditional heraldry, an animal depicted in profile (side on), rearing up on both hind legs, with one foreleg raised above the other (e.g. a lion rampant)
sonorous = making a sound (or capable of making a sound) which is pleasantly deep, full, resonant, rich; language or verse which is high-sounding, imposing, impressive, powerful, rich; grandiloquent, high-flown, wordy
taking = alluring, attractive, captivating, charming, fascinating, fetching, intriguing, pleasing
Uncle Sam = a personification of the United States of America (USA)
Leave a Reply