In countries all throughout the world, childcare practices and cultural norms are shaped and changed in order to fit the way that country is moving and shaking, both politically and culturally. Character is important in the rearing of a child, and popular culture and literature play a big part in this. This is no less true in Australia – two children’s and young adult works, Two Weeks with the Queen and The Binna Binna Man, present protagonists who represent the thoughts, opinions and drives of Australian children their age. From determination to carefulness, from consideration to courage, both Colin and the protagonist of The Binna Binna Man present a strong template for future generations of Australian children through their positive, heroic attributes. In this paper, we will examine the attributes of both protagonists, and see how that would indicate the future of Australian society.
The novel Two Weeks with the Queen follows Colin Mudford, a twelve-year old Austalian boy who is endlessly curious, marvelously creative, and fiercely determined. At the beginning of the book, he is resentful of his brother Luke, who always seems to get far better presents than him. “Why should that little whinger get exactly what he wanted, right down to the colour of the pilot’s helmet and the number of napalm canisters under the wings? It wasn’t fair.” (Gleitzman, p. 2). This indicates the attitude of a typical child, always jealous and resentful of their siblings.
However, when it is revealed that Luke is sick with terminal cancer, Colin leaps to his aid. His attitude is one of practicality; he believes that, given all the amazing things that humanity can do, it should be completely easy to beat cancer. When he is suitably deterred by his parents and the doctors at Luke’s hospital, he realizes he needs the Best Doctor in the World to cure Luke’s cancer. He soon realizes, particularly after he is sent away to live with his Aunt and Uncle in London, that the Queen would surely have access to that person. Wrapping his cousin Alastair in his adventures, he gets all the way to Buckingham Palace before getting in trouble.
Colin’s efforts to acquire medical help for his brother come from a place of pragmatism and endless optimism. He refuses to give up or believe that there is nothing to be done for Luke; it’s just that no one is trying as hard as he is. When he experiences a setback, he merely formulates a new plan or adjusts his old one accordingly. He attempts to contact the Queen through the phonebook, letters, and even climbing over the wall of Buckingham Palace. Despite all of these setbacks, he is determined to save his brother.
At the same time, Colin is painted as less than an ordinary child; he is an extraordinary one, in fact, continuing to move forward despite the naysaying of both adults and his contemporaries. With that in mind, perhaps the book does not paint an overly positive view of society and other children as a whole. However, Colin is presented as a positive role model, and an inspirational figure for children to look up to – when children read this book, they may wish to be more like Colin. He never gives in, is quite resourceful, and often manages to execute his plans with a decent amount of success, barring the harsh obstacles of reality that eventually topple them.
Part of Colin’s appeal is his series of justifications and explanations for the things that happen. When the Best Doctor in the World merely is rude to him, he states that “ “. After he mails his letter to the Queen and receives no response, he figures that “she must have a writing pad. She must have to answer letters all the time,” assuming that he just hadn’t gotten around to his yet (Gleitzman, p. 62). While this may seem like delusion, and it is to an extent, it is also indicative of Colin’s endless optimism – he would rather assume the best than expect the worst.
Colin’s optimism is mirrored in the main character of The Binna Binna Man. The narrator is unnamed, but he is an aboriginal boy who is perpetually torn by the thrill of city life and the traditions of his own people.
The narrator is a strong role model due to his very strong sense of personality and identity. “My voice inside gives me the strength,” says the narrator of his inner self, allowing him to believe in who he is and what he is capable of (McDonald & Pryor, p. 35). This speaks to a tremendous strength of character that is present in the narrator, as well as a deep tie to his cultural traditions. He thinks of the outback fondly – “The wind off the warm sea wafts up with that special smell of bush and salt and night. It welcomes me back to where I belong” (p. 40). This ties in with a future Australian society, where cultural traditions are maintained, and a new sense of nationalism could potentially spring forth.
While the narrator is strong, he also has his own vulnerabilities, and is prone to self examination and doubt. This is in stark contrast to Colin, who never seems to give up, despite any possible setbacks – he never doubts that he is doing the right thing. However, the narrator often navel-gazes and feels guilty, as he holds himself to a higher standard than he does most others. When he sees many of his friends binge drinking in the city, he thinks to himself, “I watch them walking the same path that leads to Sister Girl’s grave” (McDonald & Pryor, p. 64). He also falls into that trap, ignoring his own self to give in to peer pressure. This is also representative of a danger found in many Australian youth – the pressure to give in to hedonism and ignore one’s own principles for the sake of fitting in.
Unlike Colin, who is a completely faultless, though brash, example of the attitudes that Australian children should have, the narrator is a bit older, slightly more experienced, and infinitely more world weary. He is perpetually torn between two worlds, and eventually succumbs to the temptations of the city, turning into that which he looked down upon. This is not the best message to send to Australian children, but it is a realistic way to depict what could happen to them if they are not careful.
These two texts shape childhood in very interesting ways. Colin’s world is very separate from the real world, and his perspective is quite naïve and idealistic. This allows him to operate with assumptions that he can get things done. Whether or not this is realistic, it is certainly proactive, and a good message to send to children. His quest is never viewed as unreasonable or quixotic, at least in Colin’s eyes. All he wants to do is cure his brother of cancer, and he is never worried, because he knows there is a way to do it. In the end, he does not make his brother better, but he accomplishes his goal; he receives a letter from the Queen. This book presents a very optimistic and laudable view of Australian society, particularly if its citizens were to be that proactive.
The narrator, on the other hand, presents his story as somewhat of a cautionary tale. In essence, modern Australian society breaks him down to a drinker and drug abuser, despite his rigid cultural upbringing and his love for his aboriginal home. The narrator’s journey shows what can happen when you sacrifice your beliefs for the sake of assimilating into an increasingly valueless and callous society. He is not the kind of person who can make Australia better.
In conclusion, Colin and the Narrator both present somewhat virtuous characters and role models for Australian children to look up to. On the one hand there is Colin; ceaselessly optimistic and enterprising, a perfect leader who will get things done by any means possible, and will even try when it is out of their reach. However, there is also the narrator who, despite his profound and deeply held beliefs, eventually succumbs to the pressures and temptations of his modern friends, falling into bad habits that he knows are unhealthy for him (smoking, drinking, etc.). The narrator is who Australian children should fear becoming; Colin is who Australian children should aspire to be.
References
Gleitzman, M. (1991). Two weeks with the Queen . New York: Putnam.
McDonald, M., & Pryor, B. (1999). The Binna Binna man . St. Leonards, NSW: Allen & Unwin.
