A tale of two Les Murrays, both Australian pathfinders

One Les Murray died this week. The other one died nearly two years ago. Between them the two Les Murrays, the poet and the football broadcaster, encapsulated the polar opposites of modern Australia.

Through the happy coincidence of their names, I have been wondering which Les Murray inspired a greater kinship in me?

The two Les Murrays ... the poet and the football broadcaster.Credit: Martin Jones/Fiona-Lee Quimby

Les the poet celebrated the bush, the ordinariness, the folk character of Australian life – perhaps like no other. His verse is pithy, unadorned and beguiling. Underneath the everyday, his feeling for the fabric of his life wafts up and connects with an Australian-ness most of us – who live in the cities – do not fully understand.

You can smell the landscapes, feel the objects, almost touch the scenes, such is his mastery of the English language.

The problem with most poetry is that the effort overwhelms the words. You can see the writer is trying too hard. Not so with Les, whose spare poems somehow resonate immediately, in short bursts of “ah”.

Les Murray at his property at Bunyah, south of Taree. Credit: Robert Pearce

He was a bard of a certain Australian way of life. He may yet be the bard.

And yet, to read Les the poet, you would not know that Australia is a modern, multicultural melting pot. The taste of other cultures and languages is absent.

The other Les Murray, the TV broadcaster who championed football for several decades, made a contribution to Australian life that is equally, perhaps more, profound. His life encapsulated the story of modern Australia; he also created a new chapter in that story.

Hungarian-born Les reminded us, and helped celebrate, the ethnic and cultural goulash that makes our country so rich.

This Les Murray understood that football could unite us.Credit: Anthony Johnson

While Les the poet would enchant with his verse, Les the broadcaster would make my heart swell with his passion for “the world game” that manages to unite people of all backgrounds, even if they hate each other.

Les’s poems could transport me from my lounge room to the bush but Les’s mellifluous voice introducing a World Cup match from some far-flung country inspired a passion and sense of kinship beyond words.

Les’s mastery of the English language was beyond peer but the other Les’s mastery of other languages, his much-imitated pronunciation of foreign clubs, players and regions on his football odyssey, acknowledged a very different, a more modern Australia.

Coincidentally, Les the poet’s wife is Hungarian, so there is a kinship with the other Les (and me, whose family is also Hungarian).

Fortunately, I don’t have to choose between them. They are both indispensable. Australia is certainly the richer for Les Murray.

Journalist and author Michael Visontay is editor-in-chief of Plus61JMedia. He is a life-long lover of poetry and football.