Tony Birch: on storytelling

Tony Birch is an award-winning novelist and activist. He is currently the Boisbouvier Chair of Australian Literature at the University of Melbourne.

By Seth Robinson

Tony Birch first came to the University of Melbourne at 30 years old, enrolling in arts degree and studying history, a discipline that not only became his first home as an academic and researcher, but that laid the groundwork for his career as a writer.

‘My experience of coming to university wasn't unique in 1988. In those days they had a genuine mature-age entry, and I think that was invaluable. I was very lucky in my first year as an undergraduate student, to be taught by remarkable people in the history department. We were doing versions of what might be called “social” or “working class” history. The lectures were at 5.15 on a Monday, and that attracted people who worked during the day. In my cohort of about 60 students, half of those students were mature-aged people. Those various life experiences really brought value to the subject,’ he says. ‘A lot of that history was locally based. We were looking at the shift in industrial economies from the 19th to the 20th century here in Melbourne, looking at the first industries and urban developments around the city. We were examining the impacts on environment and ecology, considering that from the perspective of Aboriginal people's loss of country. I've written a lot about the Birrarung or the Yarra River. If I go back to that first-year course in 1988, a lot of the work was looking at the way that industries had polluted that river from the 1860s onwards.’

For readers of Tony’s work, the setting of the Birrarung, and Melbourne’s inner north are familiar, well-trodden territory. There’s an authenticity in these works that reveals their roots in a deep understanding of local history. And while Tony notes that he has undertaken formal, interdisciplinary training in the humanities, he suggests that his connection with the humanities started long before he entered the academy.

‘I think that the humanities training and research I've done in those disciplines of history and English or literature are vital. But that began even before I came to university. I wasn't well or formally educated, but I was always an avid reader. I think of literature as one of the main branches of the humanities. It's the way that I came to understand the world, understand my place in it. I may have come to university at 30, but because I had been such a wide reader, both as a young person and as an adult—reading literature, reading history, reading politics—that by the time I was at university, I realised I already had a great grounding, a great training.’

For Tony, all works of fiction contain a seed of truth, a core idea that connects the reader and the writer. As a teenager, his reading of novels such as Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World, and George Orwell’s 1984 and Animal Farm, helped him to shape his world view.

I wasn't well or formally educated, but I was always an avid reader. I think of literature as one of the main branches of the humanities. It's the way that I came to understand the world, understand my place in it. Tony Birch

‘These are all books that critique totalitarianism. In reading these books, say from the ages of about 15 to 17, they had a profound impact on me politically. I think the frightening aspect of 1984 is that you wish it dated. It does not date,’ he says. ‘We can see that when we think about contemporary social media, and the way that it's become a tool of misinformation, and often, blatant lies. 1984 is more relevant than ever in that sense, when you think about the dissemination of media and the way that it's used by political parties, the way that it's used by extremist groups, or the way that it's used in everyday situations, like advertising, or the information that's available to young people.’

For Tony, storytelling, is the fundamental basis for all knowledge systems. These stories helped him to develop a sense of who he was as a political person, his values, and beliefs. But just as stories can offer liberation or critique they can just as easily be a ‘device for totalitarianism, and the control of people’. This is where the position literature and storytelling within the context of the humanities becomes important. We come to understand stories as a vehicle for human connection, for establishing, and in turn challenging knowledge systems that shape the way we think.

‘There's a real connection that we can develop—that is core to our understanding of the humanities—which is to consider the way histories evolve, particularly in thinking about the perception of First Nations’ histories. To give a good example, when I was a second-year student, so this would be 1989, I did a survey course, “Australian History”. The first lecture in that course was called “Pre‑History”. That was the only lecture on Aboriginal society in the course, and it was pre‑history, so it was almost like it was over and done with before we got into the real stuff. There was an incredible deficiency. And if we think about that, you are talking about students and thinkers having a complete absence of a basis to understand the places that they're in, and the histories of the places that they're in.’

The human came first. So anything we discover or learn, comes from our basis of being a human society. Tony Birch

This is a stark contrast to the contemporary era, where a shift has taken place, as scholars come to understand the importance of First Nations knowledges, in relation to both the humanities, and the scientific disciplines.

‘The other issue that I talk about is the relationship between what's called traditional ecological knowledge or Indigenous knowledges of place, ecology, et cetera. They have been groundbreaking in the way that they have informed our discussion of climate change, and climate justice. Climate change is not an issue for the hard sciences alone. They’re important, but in the last decade or two decades, a lot of people in the hard sciences have talked about the need to engage people with the stories of place, and traditional knowledges’ he says. ‘What we've also learned about the relationship between the humanities and the hard sciences is that we should never think of them as mutually exclusive. We should never think of hierarchy of knowledges. If you are serious about the value of knowledge, if you are serious about cooperation between people, and if you are serious about intellectual growth, there are many aspects to our sense of who we are. There are many threads of knowledge that engage us and that unite us.’

As we move forward, as readers, as writers, scientists and scholars, thinking about the way we form our world views and understand the influences and knowledge systems around us, it is perhaps this understanding of how knowledge might be formed across disciplines that will serve us the best.

‘The human came first. So anything we discover or learn, comes from our basis of being a human society.’