Literary Interpretation on Property, Civilization, and Dehumanization
Civilization is a complicated construct. At the end of the day, that’s all it really is, though– a construct. Even so, we abide by the rules of our societies as absolute for fear of being an outcast or being punished. With entirely different standards, rules, and often moral compasses, how do two different civilizations, especially when they speak different languages, interact? What happens when they initiate a dispute? More specifically, how does one decide complicated exchanges like the possession of property or land, especially when one civilization was there first? Grenville’s The Secret River details this discrepancy and confusion under the all too real colonization of Australian Aboriginal communities by European settlers.
Though we mainly follow the perspective of Thornhill and his family, most of the settler characters show no real care or consideration of Aboriginal property. Before landing, the main mindset is that they deserve to take whatever they please. But why? The answer lies in that construct of civilization mentioned before. The Aboriginal population is different in so many ways to the European settlers. Their appearance features a nigh-opposite skin tone, they wear less clothes, speak a different language, and live completely differently with less technology, though they are often more resourceful like being able to start a fire without flint. These differences make it easy for someone who has only lived around white, English speakers their entire lives to look at Aboriginals as not only different, but lesser. Dehumanization is the often unspoken justification for these unspeakable acts that would otherwise not have happened if the victim looked and acted more like the oppressor. Combine this with almost an entire society that feels the same way, the cognitive dissonance melds with facts in the mind of the settlers. Dehumanization is a two way street– while the settlers picture the Aboriginals as less than human, they simultaneously lose their humanity in their unspeakable acts of genocide and colonialism. The principles of “ain’t nothing in this world just for the taking” (Grenville 108) suddenly don’t apply to those outside of the social construct by which they live and die.
The settlers cannot fathom the idea that the Aboriginals own property because it does not fit with their traditional ideas of property, an unfair assessment when the Aboriginals had no way of knowing and were there first. This passage summarizes it best when Thornhill states that “There were no signs that the blacks felt the place belonged to them. They had no fences that said this is mine. No house that said, this is our home. There were no fields or flocks that said, we have put the labour of our hands into this place” (96). These ideas are intrinsically meaningless in terms of deciding who has the right to live where, but because the settlers have brought a colonialist perspective to a completely different group of people. Thornhill’s perspective proves to be hypocritical in claiming “his own air,” simply “by virtue of his foot standing on it” (137). He says that “It was astonishing how little it took to own a piece of the earth,” (138) not granting these rights to the Aboriginals who did the same thing by way of seeing them as lesser. It is only until the end of the book that he begins to realize that they bleed the same blood, and that they are just people who happen to be different. At this point it is too late, and instead of dehumanizing them, he must live with the guilt and the knowledge that the colonized land will never be his real home like it was for the Aboriginal people that he helped massacre– the Aboriginal, Jack, asserting that the land is “me, my place,” with no care about the papers that “proved it was [Thornhill's]” (344).
Though we mainly follow the perspective of Thornhill and his family, most of the settler characters show no real care or consideration of Aboriginal property. Before landing, the main mindset is that they deserve to take whatever they please. But why? The answer lies in that construct of civilization mentioned before. The Aboriginal population is different in so many ways to the European settlers. Their appearance features a nigh-opposite skin tone, they wear less clothes, speak a different language, and live completely differently with less technology, though they are often more resourceful like being able to start a fire without flint. These differences make it easy for someone who has only lived around white, English speakers their entire lives to look at Aboriginals as not only different, but lesser. Dehumanization is the often unspoken justification for these unspeakable acts that would otherwise not have happened if the victim looked and acted more like the oppressor. Combine this with almost an entire society that feels the same way, the cognitive dissonance melds with facts in the mind of the settlers. Dehumanization is a two way street– while the settlers picture the Aboriginals as less than human, they simultaneously lose their humanity in their unspeakable acts of genocide and colonialism. The principles of “ain’t nothing in this world just for the taking” (Grenville 108) suddenly don’t apply to those outside of the social construct by which they live and die.
The settlers cannot fathom the idea that the Aboriginals own property because it does not fit with their traditional ideas of property, an unfair assessment when the Aboriginals had no way of knowing and were there first. This passage summarizes it best when Thornhill states that “There were no signs that the blacks felt the place belonged to them. They had no fences that said this is mine. No house that said, this is our home. There were no fields or flocks that said, we have put the labour of our hands into this place” (96). These ideas are intrinsically meaningless in terms of deciding who has the right to live where, but because the settlers have brought a colonialist perspective to a completely different group of people. Thornhill’s perspective proves to be hypocritical in claiming “his own air,” simply “by virtue of his foot standing on it” (137). He says that “It was astonishing how little it took to own a piece of the earth,” (138) not granting these rights to the Aboriginals who did the same thing by way of seeing them as lesser. It is only until the end of the book that he begins to realize that they bleed the same blood, and that they are just people who happen to be different. At this point it is too late, and instead of dehumanizing them, he must live with the guilt and the knowledge that the colonized land will never be his real home like it was for the Aboriginal people that he helped massacre– the Aboriginal, Jack, asserting that the land is “me, my place,” with no care about the papers that “proved it was [Thornhill's]” (344).
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