If I asked you to name a book that changed or shaped the course of your life, could you? After all, can a book change your life? Plenty of publishers make such claims for self-help books. Or perhaps we select books to read because the stories resonate with our experiences and emotions at that time. I find it hard to pinpoint the life changing books in my own life but, when I think of my mother’s life, two books stand out.
Young Mary Tyler was glued to a book from early childhood, so much so that she learned to knit and read at the same time to escape being chided by her own mother for being lazy. She grew up in a small town on the Eyre Peninsula, South Australia. In the 1930s, the flat dry plains stretched to the horizon. Books were a scarce, much borrowed treasure and often read and re-read for years following publication.
In the dusty heat, it’s little wonder that her favourite book was an old Australian classic, ‘Flower O’ the Pine’ by Ethel Turner (published 1914). It tells the story of Flower, a young girl sent from outback Queensland to live with relatives in the cooler climate of Sydney for her health. The picture on the front cover shows Flower perched, legs swinging, on a branch halfway up a pine tree, looking out to the sparkling blue waters of Sydney harbour.
Mum’s parents wanted her to stay home after finishing school but after much lobbying she convinced them to allow her to train as a secretary and to take a position with the Mallala council, about 60 kilometres north of Adelaide. The position allowed her to board with the family of the town clerk. The family were keen readers and Mum set about devouring their bookshelves.
Possibly another attraction of Mallala was the air base established by the Royal Australian Air Force early in World War II. One evening, as Mum caught the train back from visiting relatives in Adelaide, she caught sight of a handsome RAAF officer: not just handsome, but also reading the latest popular novel, ‘The Robe’ by Lloyd C. Douglas, which came out in 1942. She hadn’t yet managed to get hold of a copy. If only she could strike up a conversation …. But, no, such things weren’t done.
Lucky for Mum, she did manage to see him again at the local dance, and she convinced her younger brother to make his acquaintance and introduce her. What Mum didn’t know was that handsome Donald Ferguson wasn’t much of a reader but, on the other hand, he did come from Sydney, from a house near the pines, overlooking the glittering harbour. By the time the war ended, they were engaged.