The very personal style of an autobiography, the choice of what the writer shares with us of their lives, and of what they leave out, means they often tell us their story as they’d like us to see it. That’s a good thing too, for we find out what’s important to them and what affected them most in their lives. Albert Facey’s autobiography spans the period from the early 1890s when he came as a child to the Kalgoorlie Goldfields through to the mid-twentieth century. Drover, railway worker, soldier at Gallipoli, soldier settler (forced off the land during the Great Depression) and then tramway worker, Facey lived a full but hard life and tells his story in a frank and matter-of-fact way. If you want to feel what it was like to live as an average Joe in the first half of the twentieth century, then I don’t think you can do better than read this book. The good old days won’t look so good, but you’ll be both moved and informed, and you’ll perhaps be grateful for what you have today. I treasure this book.
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