A review by tasmanian_bibliophile
Romulus, My Father by Raimond Gaita

4.0

‘He was truly a man who would rather suffer evil than do it.’

This book is a memoir and a tribute to Romulus Gaita (1922-1996) by his son Raimond. Raimond’s eulogy for his father was published in Quadrant magazine in 1996, and was then developed into this book. Who was Romulus Gaita, and why read this memoir? Romulus Gaita was born in Markovac, a village in a Romanian-speaking part of Yugoslavia in 1922. At the age of 13, Romulus fled his home in Yugoslavia. The memoir briefly describes Romulus Gaita’s early life in Europe, and his arrival in Australia in April 1950 as an assisted migrant, together with his wife Christine and their four year old son Raimond.

‘Ersatz coffee became a symbol of that time in Germany, but ersatz liver sausage, made of pulped wood, is a symbol closer to the reality.’

Once Romulus and his family arrived in Australia, they were transferred to Bonegilla, a migrant camp in north-eastern Victoria. Romulus Gaita was sent to Baringhup, in central Victoria to work on the construction of a dam on the Loddon River. This is Romulus’s story, and while a number of others feature in it (especially Christine, Raimond and the Hora brothers) it is Romulus who remains in the centre. The stories of the others are really only told as they relate to Romulus.

In some ways, Romulus’s story has much in common with many other Europeans who immigrated to Australia after the turmoil of World War II. Assisted migrants were required to work for two years at jobs chosen by the Australian government, jobs that did not always take into account their previous training and skills. But what makes this memoir so moving is Raimond‘s depiction of a flawed and vulnerable man, a man who did his best to care for his son when his wife was incapable of doing so. Romulus Gaita was a man full of contradictions: a compassionate man who was calm, patient, stoical in the face of disaster, capable of unconditional love and great kindness, judgemental at times, and sometimes suicidal and despairing. But despite these contradictions (or perhaps because of them) the picture of Romulus Gaita we see is of a man true to his own values, a man intolerant of lies and a man who believed that if you started something you should finish it.

‘Never believe that I don’t love you.’

Raimond Gaita’s account of his father’s life is analytical, eloquent and beautifully written. He does not shy away from the difficulties his parents encountered – their tragedies, their episodes of illness, their battles with ignorance as a consequence of difference. Life for ‘new Australians’ of a non-English speaking background, in the 1950s, could be difficult. The labour provided was necessary and generally welcomed; the educational, cultural and language differences generally were not.

I enjoyed reading this memoir of, tribute to Romulus Gaita. For all its sadness and tragedy, there is also hope and humour. I have an image of Romulus Gaita, both as an individual and as one of many people who left Europe to build a new life in Australia. Romulus Gaita lived a difficult but fulfilling life. Romulus Gaita was a good man.

Jennifer Cameron-Smith