At the beginning of Murray Bail's singular fourth novel, Eucalyptus (Har vill, £12.99 in UK), a somewhat unusual character arrives in a small town in rural Australia, having purchased a large estate. There is not much to say about him, but the local men decide, on the basis of his footwear, that Holland, the newcomer, is from Sydney. The townswomen are quick to note the always useful absence of a wife. "A certain widow with florid hands made a move. It didn't come to much."
Some determined mothers also court him as a potential mate for various "sturdy daughters", but despite the amount of food he consumes at several tables, no matches are made. Almost five months pass. Then one day he is seen waiting for the train. On it is his small daughter.
The story appears straightforward enough; Holland sets out to plant his land with hundreds of eucalyptus trees, long established as the national tree of Australia. Holland's project, however, is far more than a patriotic gesture. There are about eight hundred varieties of Eucalypt and Holland clearly knows them all. As the years progress he continues planting away, ordering seeds, seedlings and specimen trees. "On days when Holland secured an especially rare specimen he felt like a pearl-diver who had burst to the surface, holding up a treasure." He creates a remarkable plantation, "virtually an outdoor museum of trees", all the while increasing his specialist knowledge. As the trees grow, so does Ellen, his daughter. Her beauty becomes famous. "Conventionally strong men lost their tongues. At the sight of her, some were inflicted with a sort of paralysis." Although he loves the little girl, Holland's main interest is the trees. On her thirteenth birthday he announces he has a special present for her. Ellen's excitement fades when it turns out to be just another gum tree, albeit wrapped and tied with a blue ribbon.
The secret of this novel's success is its slightly off-beat tone, which acts as a clever counterweight to the elements of the fairy tale and folklore. The language is spare, direct, almost businesslike, but the atmosphere Bail creates is extraordinarily European, al though, as he says: "The idea that Holland's daughter was like a princess locked in the tower of a damp castle was of course false. After all, she was living on a property in western New South Wales."
The solitary Ellen, who, we are told, "ate nosily", daydreams of romance and does little else, while her father plants trees. Aware of the developing male interest she is attracting, he warns her to "beware of any man who deliberately tells a story. You're going to come across men like that. Know what I'm saying?" There is nothing sinister about his love for his child. Although preoccupied, he fears for his daughter and decides that only the man who can correctly name every tree on Holland's land will marry her. This opens the way for all kinds of suitors, many of whom depart on having failed to identity the first tree they see. Some attempts last longer, and when the local teacher, an eminently suitable candidate, successfully names eighty-seven trees on the first day, Holland's hopes are high. But the young man fails, " `That's too bad." Holland stubbed his cigarette. `That's a shame. I had you down as a real chance.' "
Along with the old and the handicapped are the chancers, "men who tried to bluff, or laugh their way through, or devise delaying tactics". Not surprisingly, Ellen becomes increasingly worried - and silent; she "didn't really like the look of any of them". With the arrival of a New Zealander, Ellen begins to realise the distance news of her plight has travelled. Her father is more struck by the fact that a New Zealander could be so well informed about these trees. "Eucalypts were native to Australia and nowhere else. He would have been amazed if more than 50 different eucalypts had been transplanted in the whole of New Zealand."
The New Zealander does pretty well, but not well enough, and is soon replaced by "a smiling Chinaman." Describing himself as a merchant of fruit and vegetables, the Chinese man seems impossibly happy and eventually his relentless smile begins to bother Holland. Luckily, a eucalypt from the southern tip of Tasmania that "doesn't look like a eucalypt at all" defeats him. The next wooer is a serious contender: Roy Cave is an expert, from Adelaide, "the city of eucalypts".
Cave's arrival creates a shift in the novel. The two men, engrossed in their shared knowledge, work their way through the trees. At times it seems as if Holland has forgotten the reason for Cave's visit. Ellen has not, and, becoming even more quiet, has taken to writing letters to her father, pleading for his attention. While all this is happening, another man appears. Far from being a suitor, he contents himself telling Ellen stories. Apparently random, the tales instead slowly begin to form a deliberate pattern.
Ellen enjoys the stories and also seems to like the young man. Bail cleverly juxtaposes the ordinary and the fantastic. While the two older men discuss the trees, the young storyteller is exciting the girl's imagination. As his stories multiply so does the wish that Cave should encounter a tree he can't name. The stories also serve to add texture to the narrative, as each new digression is contained either within the name or by reference to a specific tree. Bail's use of the eucalypt as a central motif is inspired, and the reader is left wanting to know more about them. Such is their importance, it seems a shame that no botanical drawings have been included in the text, considering many chapters take their name from a particular species.
Eucalyptus presents that original mix of the ordinary and slightly odd which is a strong feature of Australian fiction. Much of the genius of this novel lies in its tone, which is adroitly handled throughout. It is a novel of magical sleight-of-hand; Bail is inventive without attempting to be profound. Drawing on many traditions, including the European fairy tale, the book is also a less sinister variation of The Thousand and One Arabian Nights - the stories sustain Ellen, and ultimately save her. This is a cerebral curiosity but unlike many such, it is devoid of pretension or cloying whimsy. Should this year's Booker judges be looking for an unlikely fairy tale romance which will linger in the memory, here it is.
