The decline of regionalism in Australian literature and culture.

AS AN AMERICAN LIVING IN AUSTRALIA, AUSTRALIANS are constantly trying to place my accent. If they are polite, they usually ask, "Where in Canada are you from?" Then, if I am feeling equally polite, I respond, "No, I'm from the States, but I grew up not far from the Canadian border. I'm told I have a bit of a Canadian accent." I have only ever been told this by Australians, who wouldn't know a Canadian eh? from a New Yorker's ay, whatchoo lookin at? But I see no harm in a little white lie that makes everyone feel good about themselves. I feel better, given the current political climate and widespread feelings of anti-Americanism, identifying myself with Canada. The curious Australian equally feels like he (they are usually male) is finally catching on to the differences between various North American accents.

In time, our curious Australian will become a confident Australian. He will claim, as I have heard so many of his fellow countrymen claim, to be able to distinguish between a Canadian and an American accent, as well as identify someone based only on their accent as from either New York, the South, or the West Coast. Interestingly, I have heard these particular regions named many times by confident Australians in my highly unscientific survey of friends, friends-of-friends, and the occasional overly friendly "guy standing next to me at the pub." It would seem these are the accents (supposedly) most familiar to Australians.

Yet, in spite of their often parodic representation in movies and television shows, regional dialects in North America are frequently so understated as to be indistinguishable to the casual listener. Sure, there is the tobacco farmer from South Carolina who will be interviewed on the ten o'clock news when a locust plague strikes the region, and he will exhibit all the speech characteristics commonly associated with someone of his position; but his neighbor is just as likely to have an accent which could be mistaken for that of a Vermont tax accountant. There will be differences, but they will be subtle and often confined to the space of a few vowel sounds or a handful of words hinting at a localized vocabulary--something most Americans, much less Australians, would never pick up.

With this in mind, I say to our still curious Australian, "You remember the Coen brothers' film Fargo? Well, that's where I'm from. Not Fargo, but Minnesota, where most of the movie was set." It is now his turn to respond, "Oh, wow! Yeah, I remember that movie. They had such great accents in that movie. Can you do that? Can you do that accent?" Or, worse, he claims that he could tell I was from Minnesota; he picked my accent. Considering I have lived in Australia for nearly two years, and for five years previous to this I was living in New York, I hope you will forgive me for thinking this is unlikely. I do not tell our Australian as much. Instead, I smile obligingly and give him my best, "Ya, sure. Ya betcha. You're dam tootin!"

I relate this anecdote as a way of introducing a couple of main themes of this essay. Firstly, the perception Australians have of North America, and the United States in particular (if only because it claims a greater share of media attention), as a geographically and culturally diverse entity. I am not referring to diversity in the sense of multiculturalism, though, of course, Australians recognize the United States as a multicultural nation. Especially in its larger cities, such as New York City and Los Angeles, it is thought to possess examples of every imaginable type of diversity: racial, religious, ethnic, cultural, linguistic, etc. But then, Australia regards itself as a multicultural nation, even if such events as the election of Pauline Hanson and the One Nation party to the House of Representatives and, more recently, the Cronulla riots in December 2005, have raised questions about the extent to which a sense of a multicultural Australian identity has permeated the Australian population. Rather than address this most controversial brand of diversity, I am interested in a different type: regional diversity. In other words, a diversity within the geography of the nation. This type of diversity necessarily extends beyond the superficial reaches of regional dialect to encompass all the various permutations of a regional identity.

The second reason I relate this particular anecdote is to acknowledge the significant influence of the modern media, and particularly those forms of creative media such as movies and television (but also literature and the visual arts), in shaping our perceptions of other countries and their populations, as well as of ourselves. Because Australians have seen representations of regional diversity within the United States, it has become a valid mode for discussing the geography of the nation and the character of its inhabitants. No one would expect an Australian to be able to name all 50 states--strangely enough, many of the Australians I have spoken to about this matter are convinced that the United States is comprised of 51 states--and yet it is de rigueur for Australians to speak knowledgeably about the East and West Coasts of the United States, as well as the South.

You will have (hopefully) noticed by now, that in my discussion of regions in the United States, I have neglected to mention certain regions that occupy at least as large a geographical area as those mentioned more often. Perhaps the most notable of these neglected regions--at least as far as this Minnesotan is concerned--is the American Midwest. This oversight should come as little surprise, however, since the specific topic of discussion up to this point has been the perception Australians have of the United States as comprised of any number of geographically and culturally diverse regions. As I mentioned earlier, this perception is derived from representations of these regions and their associated regional characteristics in the movies, television and books. Thus, it is no accident that many Australians are unfamiliar with the term "Midwest" and the geographical area it represents; it is infrequently represented in the cultural record, much less in those aspects of the cultural record that are transmitted overseas. As Frank Moorhouse …