I grew up in a suburb not far from Castle Hill in Sydney’s Northwest and moved to its neighbouring suburb, Rouse Hill, in mid-2000. By this time I was already deep into a love affair with literature, reading and writing voraciously, having almost completed what became a 770-page novel manuscript. The story, Deep Like the Rivers, is based loosely on the slave trade, travelling between England and the U.S. at the turn of the 19th century, as a slave owner’s wife learns, through the love of a young slave girl, to battle her own oppression. To cut a long story short (something, after three re-writes, I am still attempting in Deep Like the Rivers – a.k.a Safina’s Child, a.k.a The Two of Us), I have a Romantic spirit.
Fast-forward to the late naughties when, in my 30s, I decided to head to university as a non-traditional student to formally engage with my passion for literature, history, and their combination (could two disciplines be more suited to one another?). I have since studied in both the U.S. for two years and Australia. However, it wasn’t until last semester at the University of Sydney in an English Lit unit called Revolutionary Writing? that I studied – and fell in love with – a novel by Australian Nobel Prize-winning author Patrick White, titled The Solid Mandala. There was something about the little town, Sarsaparilla, in which the novel is set that drew me to the work in my first reading than any other aspect of the novel, including character, style, tone, themes, all of which became secondary as I tried to locate this “place” that somehow felt familiar.
Then there it was: one of the characters travels to Schofields (a neighbouring suburb to Rouse Hill) for produce. It was at that moment, when I realised that such an inspiring literary figure as Patrick White once lived and breathed the same space as I did, that my interest in my own, otherwise unremarkable, locale was given life. White’s life – both personal and professional – inspires so many people on so many levels. I have recently been involved in a working project for a history course at University of Sydney called History Beyond the Classroom, which inspired me to explore this literary place and Patrick White’s connection to it. I have visited his house “Dogwoods” on Showground Road (now a privately owned but heritage-listed building) and have physically entered spaces that, for White and his partner Manoly, were once private sanctuaries during a time when their relationship elicited social anxiety.
This is just the beginning of my search for a connection to the local history of this man, his fascinating life, and beautiful body of work . . .
literaryhistoryblog 
I read your article on Nobel, Dogwoods etc, excellent. And that quote at the end about their ghosts dancing. It lined up with a quote from an article in the Monthly by Marr (also on the wiki page) about Manoly spending his last days in the same place where Aunt Theo looked out, Laura waited for Voss. Hurtle played.
I picked up the Vivisector in 1979, my mood and the time made it a fantastic read. Then I read Voss and Tree of, but I could not get into the others.
I started reading the Vivisector again last week (not sure if I can finish it, I was made of sterner stuff in 79) and that prompted my interest in White’s life. Most of the articles are to do with his time in Centennial park but the 18 years at Castle Hill is such a strange thing. Maybe it was nicer in 1948 but it is not a place I like. I lived in Pennant Hills for 5 years, a strange bubble of a place. In fact that 18 year period is almost surreal, that awful isolation, the mundane. Of course it would not be like you imagine. I suppose they had a car and they went to Frank Sinatra concerts etc. For some reason I would like to know about their driving and what cars they owned, something to ‘ground’ their lives in reality. Also was Nobel Place named for him. Is their a map showing the boundaries of their property? Anyway, good luck to you and thanks for the great article on the Hills site,
Chris Harte
LikeLike
Hi Chris,
I apologise in the delay in replying to your post. I have been away. Firstly, thank you for your interest – I’m delighted you enjoyed my post on White and Lascaris’ time in Castle Hill and at Dogwoods. If you go to Castle Hill Library they do have many maps, one of which I did access, showing the property layout for the years of White’s residence and you can clearly see the property boundaries, which go from Showground Road all the way back to Nobel Place (possibly beyond) and, yes, Nobel Place was named in White’s honour during his lifetime. There is also a Patrick Street (and a White Street, if I recall correctly). Unfortunately, all the Dogwood trees are gone, but the current owners of Dogwoods – a family law practice – are conscious of the house’s historical significance and will let you wander through the house. Castle Hill Library also has a few artefacts that were found in the house upon the previous sale (some cheque book stubs and quotidian notes like shopping lists, etc, all written by White.
I hope to take up more research and create more posts about White in the future. Until then, try to enjoy Vivisector again (my personal favourite is The Solid Mandala). You have inspired me to pick up Vivisector again.
Thank you again for your interest in my post.
All the best,
Darren
LikeLike
The older I get (63) the harder it is for me to read any book all the way through. I tell myself it’s because I’ve read so much it’s hard to connect, but it is probably a degradation, atrophy of the brain. Patrick (in my opinion) seems a writer for the younger person, not a teen but someone in their 20’s or early 30’s. Enough of life to know, but the sharpness to appreciate and follow. I can handle Raymond Chandler and hammett. And I try with Wodehouse, I like his psmith. That was a Lead in: Of course I have to say at this point I hadn’t known that Wodehouse and Chandler went to the same school in England, not that far apart in years. Also I like melancholy and your article fed that well. A couple of years ago I got tied into the world of Suze Rotolo the lady on the cover of the Freewheelin album by Dylan, she wrote a book. So for me it is a mix of dream and words. So your article was very satisfying. Also I can’t handle misery anymore, there is enough in the world 🙂 Bye bye Thomas Hardy and even The Forsythe saga. Though I am churning through Sherlock and Raffles again, so there is hope. The fact that Sydney was a living environment for such a great novelist as White is not surprising knowing the city. I’ve spent years living here, kicking the leaves in the early hours of the morning around Redfern and Newtown with people I just met as we move from pub to pub, all bound by the one thing, someone to drink with. That old character, the unshaven drunk with the bad haircut and the tweed style jacket over a wool pullover, urinating in the bushes, prone to bursts of anger. Thank god those days are gone. As you may have surmised, I am still a drinker, but at home now. The city scares me. And that is age as well. Oh, no one really took him up but ‘The chronicles of ancient sunlight’ a series of books by Henry Williamson is not half bad. It hits the first world war and is different to ‘Goodbye to all that’ by Graves but is worth a punt.No need to post a reply, just venting.
LikeLike