Humanity, Humour and Humility - a Review of "Lest"

 

Mark Dapin seems to have made a habit of slaughtering sacred cows.

That's not unique, of course, but he does it with style and humour. There is a flavour of humility, and the writing is frequently self-deprecating.

I didn't have any idea what to expect when I found this book next to my self-published memoir in my local Dymocks. (I was checking how many copies were left, as I sell them, five at a time, on consignment). 

Some sweet young person had written a review on a slip of paper attached to the shelf. That was nice.

A bit of self-promotion is always good, and there are only eighty copies of the one thousand I had printed left. But I digress......

I had no intention of buying it, but given that I've read much of what he's written (except for his fiction - I don't read fiction) I grabbed it.

I did pay for it, by the way, something that didn't happen for one reader who stole a copy of my book from the shop last year. I'm not sure what to make of that.

Dapin's "Lest" is an engaging read. There is a unique balance of historical research, humour and whimsy that captures even the most cynical reader.

And there is a bit of that as well...cynicism, I mean.

War myths abound in our national literature. They're like barnacles. Challenging them can attract all manner of hostility.

I reckon Dapin has read Teaching as a Subversive Activity and has a highly developed ICD. That's Postman and Weingartner's Inbuilt Crap Detector for those who haven't read it.

He takes us through a range of beliefs that have been marinated in semi-sacred sentiment for generations, including Anzac Day, white feathers, Gallipoli, Monash, and the Emu War.

He ventures where others have feared to tread, covering No Poofters, spitting at Vietnam veterans, the role of the RSL, and makes predictions about myths to come. Nothing is sacred, even the old joke about Vietnam veterans and lightbulbs.

Yet the material is handled deftly, without offense to veterans, and with the objective clarity of an outside observer. Dapin is, after all, an ex-Pom, and I reckon that provides a perspective generally absent in lifetime locals.

Despite what I'd regard as a lightness in tone, there is obviously a deal of hard research embedded in this book.

It should be required reading in every Australian high school history curriculum. It won't be, of course. 

Most current high schoolers have a very vague grasp of recent wars, especially Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan.

But the myths endure.