Opting out of Utopia
Sir: Mr Robert Hughes opted out of his so- called Utopia most entertainingly (29 March). But I do hope that he is not going to become the new professional Australian expatriate in London : sent for to pronounce with reliable acidity and nagging monotony on all things Australian, whenever an editor or producer requires provocative comment thereon. It's a forlorn and facile role to play, the querulous expatriate, as history has so often shown. We've had two sharpish pieces already from Mr Hughes: one a petulant review in the Sunday Times of his compatriot Thomas Keneally's novel, Bring Larks and Heroes (three reputable English critics dared to pronounce more javourably); and there was a long scolding wail about that still endearing folly of the cen- tury, Sydney Opera House, in your own pages recently (16 February).
Can Mr Hughes find nothing important to commend in the Australian scene? Is it really unfit to nurture people with aesthetic sensi- bility until, say, another couple of generations? As an Englishman who enjoys keeping a friendly but unemotionally appraising eye upon Australia and Australians,. I find him an accomplished writer but somewhat outdated in his attitudes. After all, 1964 is a long time ago by current rates of social change. I've just returned from six months in Australia (mostly in Sydney), and as a professional observer I was impressed by their new critical view of America, and their own gathering self-discon- tent—compared with 1964 when last I visited. And why be so angry?..Can one reasonably expect them to produce enough painting to satisfy a sophisticated critic after one hundred and eighty years—was America. a scintillating
newcomer to international culture in 1800?
I hope Mr Hughes gets his United Kingdom passport soon, and quickly forgets his trau- matic native land both for his sake and for ours. Let him beware lest he become more English than the English—a common enough fate of his tribe. But then—ten years from now—as an expatriate sage from Britain— he might even be joyously savaging our own reputation to an enthralled 'new Anglo-Saxon- dom' beneath the aspiring winged pavilions of Sydney's Folly.
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