Wild Lemons by David Malouf summary and analysis

 

Through all those years keeping the present

open to the light of just this moment:

that was the path we found, you might call it

a promise, that starting out among blazed trunks

the track would not lead nowhere, that being set

down here among wild lemons, our bodies were

expected at an occasion up ahead

that would not take place without us. One

proof was the tough-skinned fruit among

their thorns; someone had been there before us

and planted these, their sunlight to be sliced

for drinks (they had adapted

in their own way and to other ends); another

was the warmth of our island, sitting still

in its bay, at midnight humming

and rising to its own concerns, but back,

heat-struck, lapped by clean ocean waters

at dawn. The present is always

with us, always open. Though to what, out there

in the dark we are making for as seven o’clock

strikes, the gin goes down and starlings

gather, who can tell? Compacts made

of silence, as a flute tempts out a few

reluctant stars to walk over the water. I lie down

in different weather now though the same body,

which is where that rough track led. Our sleep

is continuous with the dark, or that portion of it

that is this day’s night; the body

tags along as promised to see what goes.

What goes is time, and clouds melting into

Through all those years keeping the present

open to the light of just this moment:

tomorrow of our breath, a scent of lemons

run wild in another country, but smelling always of themselves.

 

Malouf reflects on the effort to think about the present despite the burden of the past, something crucial in postcolonial societies that struggle with historical trauma but seek renewal.

that was the path we found, you might call it a promise,
The “path” represents a hopeful journey, perhaps a metaphor for finding identity after colonization. The “promise” reflects a belief in a future not defined by colonial history.

that starting out among blazed trunks

 the track would not lead nowhere,
“Blazed trunks” refer to marked trees, suggesting a colonial exploration path. The speaker hopes their journey will not be futile, a common postcolonial concern about reclaiming purpose beyond colonial footprints.

that being set  down here among wild lemons,

our bodies were expected at an occasion up ahead

 that would not take place without us. 

Being “set down” connects to colonizers’ imposition of people onto foreign land. The “wild lemons” symbolize the indigenous identity of the Australian aborigines. The speaker believes they have a role to play in shaping the future, unlike the colonial past where destinies were dictated by others.

One  proof was the tough-skinned fruit among

 their thorns; someone had been there before us

the wild lemon orchard is an evidence of prior presence perhaps settlers or colonizers discovered all such places for exploitation and other material benefits.

and planted these, their sunlight to be sliced

 for drinks (they had adapted / in their own way and to other ends);

Colonial settlers adapted foreign crops to their purposes. This shows how colonial histories alter the native environment and re-purpose it, often for profit or pleasure, rather than native sustenance.

 

another  was the warmth of our island, sitting still

 in its bay, at midnight humming

 and rising to its own concerns,
It symbolizes the resilience of colonized land and culture. existing on its own terms, not just as a colonial possession.

but back,  heat-struck, lapped by clean ocean waters  at dawn.
The landscape is sensual and alive. The “clean ocean waters” suggest purification and a chance for renewal. symbols of a postcolonial awakening.

The present is always  with us, always open.
In a postcolonial context, it is a call to embrace the moment and assert identity rather than live under historical shadows.

Though to what, out there

 in the dark we are making for as seven o’clock

 strikes, the gin goes down and starlings

gather, who can tell?

There is uncertainty in the future. The image of gin often linked to colonial leisure, echoes colonial hangovers. The starlings gathering may suggest change or migration, typical of postcolonial troubles.

Compacts made of silence, as a flute tempts out a few

 reluctant stars to walk over the water.

Compacts of silence” reflect the unspoken traumas of colonization. The flute could represent art or memory the striking image of stars walk over the water represent the troubled situation of the colonized.

 

I lie down in different weather now though the same body,
The speaker is changed by time and place “different weather” signifies a shift in circumstances, possibly referencing the transformation from pre-colonial to postcolonial condition.

which is where that rough track led.
The journey, full of difficulty (rough track), led to a new state of awareness or identity a key postcolonial realization.

 

Our sleep  is continuous with the dark, or that portion of it

 that is this day’s night;
Night and sleep suggest vulnerability and connection with the unknown. In a postcolonial sense, it speaks to the continued search for identity amid shadows of the past.

the body  tags along as promised to see what goes.

Even the physical self is involved in this journey. This could reflect how identity is embodied and reshaped through lived experience.

What goes is time, and clouds melting into

 tomorrow of our breath,
Time passes and transitions into the future. “Tomorrow of our breath” signifies a future built through present action relevant to nations rebuilding postcolonial identities.

 

a scent of lemons  run wild in another country, but smelling always of themselves.
Lemons, once cultivated, now grow wild symbolizing cultural hybridity. They retain their essence despite changing landscapes, reflecting how postcolonial subjects maintain identity even in diaspora or cultural transformation.