Thursday, August 13, 2009

Bernard Salt, the inner west versus the outer, and the battle of the cliched stereotypes


(Above: eek, the grey empty  western suburbs. Careful folks, families live here, while it's a well known fact inner west folk spring fully formed from the hip of Satan, and have no families or family life, so besotted are they with chardonnay and lattes).

Bernard Salt lists himself as a partner at KPMG, which presumably means he lives in Kellyville and attends Hillsong as his local church.

Oh sorry, he lives in Melbourne. Why, on reflection, that's even worse.

Because yet again he's ranting about social stereotypes as if they were demographic truths, and he speaks of Sydney. To which most Sydney siders with an ounce of heart might well say bugger off Melburnian, you know nothing. 

You see, it's all in the name of supporting Salt's beloved dwellers in suburbia, as opposed to the wicked inner city trendies, as set out in It's time for the burbs to be heard:

Why are there ample caricatures of unsophisticated suburbanites (Kath and Kim, Edna Everage, Kenny) but none of the inner-city elite? Is the educated well-to-do, inner-city-living class beyond parody or satire?

And it's not as if a suburban perspective is not relevant in this nation. The middle and outer suburbs account for the majority of the city's residents and for the vast majority of the city's growth.

The problem I have is that city planning, and more often Australian culture, appears to be determined by those whose lives are based in the inner city, and not by the silent majority of average Australians who live in the suburban heartland.

Perhaps it's time to listen to what the latter have to say about the kind of lifestyle they want to lead in suburbia.


Well you know Gina Riley grew up in the Melbourne suburb of Canterbuy, which is alarminly close to Camberwell, but also not so far to Doncaster and Templestowe, while Jane Turner was born in Newcastle, husband of Kimmy Pete Rowsthorn grew up in Mt. Waverley and Glenn Robbins attended Strathmore Secondary College. The show itself had enough legs to see it transplanted (albeit unsuccessfully) to a phantom part of Phoenix Arizona.

Edna Everage was born in Wagga Wagga before shifting to Moonee Ponds, unlike her creator Barry Humphries, who grew up in Camberwell (what is it with Camberwell?) Humphries and Everage started to Melbourne, but of course have spent much of their professional time in the UK, with occasional forays to the United States, and return trips to Australia to harvest devotees here.

It starts to get tedious to note that Shane Jacobson had a roving early life - his father came from a large carnival family - which took him through various parts of Australia as well as the Philippines. He also happened to be a scout for 18 years with the 15th Essendon, 1st Keilor and Bundoora chapters (the Melbourne Gang Show started him off at age eight). You can find out more about Shane Jacobson here.

Beginning to see a profound insight here of a sociological kind? Yearning for a satire on educated well to do inner city living classes? As opposed to Kingswood Country, or Packed to the Rafters, or Wogs out of Work or Crocodile Dundee or Mother and Son or Aunty Jack or Norman Gunston or the original Dad and Dave (such a cruel portrait of people who made a selection)?

Because you know, showbiz types go with whatever works, whatever sells. There's a reason Kath and Kim shifted from the ABC to network Seven. It had enough in the way of ratings for a commercial channel to fork over the readies. 

Drawing conclusions from a couple of television shows and their stereotypes is delusional (and ignores the reality that the inner city demographic is small, so why the hell would you pitch a show about them? Sure you can send them up in the odd sketch, but that's about all they're worth as entertainment value. It's not that they're beyond parody, they just don't rate. End of story).

Okay, so Bernard Salt knows diddly about entertainment.

But never mind about facts, let's just argue a simple proposition:

I have a simple proposition. I argue that over the past decade there has evolved within Australian cities a significant and growing cultural divergence between different social groups.

And by this I mean a specific division between those who live in the inner city and those who live on the city's edge.

Oh yes, it's war between the inner and the outer. And never the twain shall meet. But don't imagine that it's a war between the outer urban dwellers and the eastern suburbs or the northern suburbs in Sydney. You know, like Double Bay or St Ives. 

Battlers, migrants and assorted low-income earners who formerly lived in the inner city are now being flung out, as if by some centrifugal force, to the city's edge.

What is left in the inner city is an odd coalescence of tribes - namely students, singles, couples, dinks, gays, expats, corporates, divorcees and, most important of all, the professional and entrepreneurial classes.

And to this lot I might add the entertainment, information and media glitterati. As a general principle, none of this class would ever think of living more than 10km from the city centre.

Or if they do, it's a convenient leapfrog over the middle and outer suburbs on their way to a tree-change bolthole such as Mt Macedon or Bowral.

The outer suburbs are, in this world, "drive-through" places that are passed on the way to somewhere more exciting.

The outer suburbs, on the other hand - best known by pejorative terms such as "the burbs" or "the sticks" - are inhabited by a different life form: families.

Yep, it's families v glitterati, gays, the entrepreneurial and professional classes, and the entire staff of KPMG.

You see, it's all to with the evil inner west, wherein the heart of darkness dwells (but not anybody who can afford a shack in Paddington or looking down on Bondi Beach).

These grasping money grubbers are ruining everything for everyone. Take the evil trendies in Leichardt, which pretends to have an Italian flavor, but which we know the truth about (how else could they afford that ersatz Forum?)

Then take a look at poverty row in Blacktown and Penrith (by the way just when did Bernard Salt actually take a look on the ground at Blacktown and Penrith? From the way he writes he doesn't have a clue). 

Anyhoo, take a look and then contrast it with those clutching, gnawing inner city dwellers:

However, it was a different story in the city centre. In Sydney's inner-western municipality of Leichhardt, income levels on a per-person basis jumped from 43 per cent to 73 per cent above the Australian average over the decade to 2006. Upwardly mobile Leichhardt moved mightily upmarket in a decade. The same upshift applied to Melbourne's City of Port Phillip, where income levels moved from 27 per cent to 50 per cent above the Australian average in a decade. 

And you know what these vile creatures bring into the neighbourhood? Why rising property values, and worse still:

... there was a rising market for the lifestyle accoutrements of inner-city sophistication: cafes, bars, restaurants, boutiques, warehouse conversions.

The fiends. Thank god they've banned coffee and cafes from Penrith before the rot sets in. As for boutiques ... no, Lowes doesn't count ...

And it's not just property values. It's not just income. It's education. The great unwashed out on the edge don't have much in the way of degrees and so generally don't have a clue. 

Which is why they're so easily manipulated by cunning inner city dwellers who laugh gaily whenever they see a westie drinking out of chateau cardboard or downing a VB.

Perhaps you think we're in the grip of a facile thinker who loves to throw around stereotypes because people have heard of the brand names? Who doesn't mind what he says or references, provided it suits some strange kind of John Howard era ideological angle? You know about the great silent majority and picket fences and Howard's battlers.

You know, the silent majority stuff? Haven't heard about them since they were supposed to have put John Howard in power and kept him there. Of course until the inner westies took over and voted in Chairman Rudd, and the silent majority were the majority no more (though I'm not sure how a majority becomes a minority that remains a majority, but there you go).

Perhaps you're even wondering how - by magic - fiendish disdainful inner city types manage to have this remarkable stranglehold on urban planning? Seeing as how for example NSW has 93 legislative assembly electorates, and perhaps the most you could assign to the inner west where the edge of the heart of darkness lurks are the parlimentary seats of Balmain, Marrickville and Heffron. 

I really do think - as a pretentious inner city type - that Strathfield, Canterbury and Drummoyne are beyond the pale, while if you go further out - I never do, for fear of the dragons - you're in total heart of darkness territory. I understand they slaughter cows with machetes, unless they happen to find an inner westie who's accidentally strayed up the river to call out "the horror, the horror". Then they're for it, never mind if they pretend an interest in Parramatta's history.

That said, I think it's a pretty credible achievement, with these three seats (and the edges of another three) as the heart of the inner west, telling everybody else how to live and what to do and how to plan their transport and their suburbs and their lifestyle, without once thinking about what the outer suburbs might want, and with not one person to speak for them.

That's right, the honorable members for Mt. Druitt, Blacktown, Toongabbie, Castle Hill, Smithfield, Granville, Riverstone, Fairfeild, Cabramatta, Bankstown, Macquarie Fields, East Hills, Menai, Campbelltown, Camden, Mulgoa, Penrith and Londonderry are mute, incapable of speaking, struck dumb by the sight of the insolent, strutting inner suburban westies. (You can take a look at the map here).

Or worse you might well find these so called parliamentary representatives in the parliamentary lounge laughing and chortling as they watch incessant re-runs of Kath and Kim while trying to book tickets for an Edna Everage performance. Those flip flops are soooh funny. Thongs? Never heard of them mate. We only speak inner westie here.

They never listen,  these politicians that are supposed to represent the outer city dwellers, because they too are in the grip of evil inner suburban types, who've cunningly arranged for parliament house to sit in Macquarie Street. In the heart of the city!

Say no more.

Golly, am I missing out on the action or what. You know it's taken the rusted on local Labor clique twenty years to announce that a lift will finally be installed in the local railway station so that the handicapped and mothers with prams will finally be able to access the platform. What do gays and professionals and students and junkies need with that kind of nonsense? Let 'em walk up the stairs, no families here.

Take that you outer westies, why you haven't got any public transport at all! You see how we take all the spoils and don't listen to what you've got to say. 

Pressing hands over ears: la, la, la, la, lah de dah ...

How's that for rubbing Salt in your wounds? Or cliches into your stereotypes?

No comments:

Post a Comment

Comments older than two days are moderated and there will be a delay in publishing them.