Interview with Brian Hungerford
“The first time I saw him tell a story, tears rolled down my face
and I didn’t know why. Afterwards I couldn’t move for a long time”
A comment about Brian Hungerford.
For those of you who don't know Brian Hungerford, he has been described a
national living treasure. He is without doubt a master storyteller with a
very devoted following. He has told stories in 19 different countries for
UNESCO, FAO, the BBC and the British Council. He is also a writer and playwright.
At Woodford he can attract an audience of 200- 300 people and tell one hour
long story in way that makes time stand still. As I sat in the audience at
Woodford this year, I heard a man sitting nearby say he loved the way Brian
made myths so accessible, because as he tells, he unravels the meaning of
the myth in a very chatty, humorous way.
Interviewing Brian by email for swag gave me the opportunity to pose all the
questions I've always wanted to ask him!I started by asking him when he first
started telling stories.
I
think I have always told stories. As a young boy I lived in a world of old
people, no electricity, no easy transport and lots of jobs. It was my job
to cut the firewood for cooking and heating and as we had no inside tap, it
was my job to keep the big kettle (then called a fountain) full of water from
the outside tank. Every morning I woke to the sound of distant diesel engines
starting up around the valley. The engines powered the milking machines. Well
before five, I would get up, get dressed and run out to bring in the cows
for milking. It wasn't hard work, but seven days a week. We had 70 Jersey
cows and one bull. At six I had decided that the bull was not only dangerous,
but useless. By eight o'clock all my work was done. While the grown ups continued
with the endless jobs of cleaning equipment and feeding the cows I ate breakfast
and left for school. It was a three mile walk and usually Tommy Vigal would
come past on his big Clydesdale horse called Captain. I would climb up behind
him. A mile father down the road we would collect Shirley Schaefer. The school
had its own horse paddock next to the playground. We didn't use saddles, so
it was only necessary to hang the winkers and rope reins on the gate and run
in. Sometimes Captain was hungry and determined to nibble grass on the side
of the road all the way. Those days we were late. We always had good excuses
for being late and that was the beginning of my storytelling career. It came
through listening to all the excuses. The best one for not presenting homework
came from Shirley who said she had done her homework, but left it on the rump
of Captain. We all went to search for it, but to no avail. Shirley was certain
Captain had eaten the entire book.
When did you first start telling stories professionally?
I had great trouble learning to read as a boy. My mother and brother were
great readers. My brother and I shared the same bedroom and at night he would
read aloud to me. It was wonderful. He had a passion for Persian mythology
and I would lie there taking in every word. At school I could recreate all
the stories. These days I would be seen as Dyslexic and unable to recognise
the shapes of words. Consequently, I relied on listening intently and learning
everything by ear. Strangely enough music was easier to read than the written
word. Mind you, once I heard the tune I would then pretend to read the music.
First, it was the piano, but on the side I loved the mouthorgan. Then I was
given a concertina and life was full of adventure.
I left school with the usual matriculation with top marks in botany and agriculture.
While at high school (there were five of them - eleven schools in all) I started
writing verses. I shone as an actor and debater and wrote sketches for the
school concerts.
Despite being a dreadful speller, I determined to make my living as a writer
and I managed to get a job with the ABC working with the wonderful Australian
poet, John Thompson. I voraciously wrote dramatised features and one-hour
plays for the ABC and these were subsequently resold throughout the English-speaking
world. As an evening student at Sydney University I had lots of poetry published
in university journals and took out the drama prize with a three-act play
called The Ugly Duckling.
In 1960 I was living and writing in Spain. My aural training soon had me speaking
Spanish and life was extremely beautiful. The trouble is you cannot live on
beauty alone and I moved to London and work in the BBC writing talks and conducting
interviews for the World Service.
In 1966, I was seconded to the Food and Agriculture Organization of the UN
to work as an "Expert" on communication in Spanish-speaking countries
of the Third World. I was perfectly at home. I was living and working with
illiterate people. I began teaching the use and skills of informal drama and
listening to village storytellers. I studied their methods and voices. These
were people who could earn a living with their stories - even in poor communities.
I returned to Australia in 1983 and wondered how on earth I would settle down.
I filled in time wondering, by writing a set of stories which were published
in literary journals and on the ABC. I was asked to "Read" my most
popular story "It's Him" at a literary event. Half way through the
story I felt so fraudulent, standing there reading literature. I stopped reading
and simply told the story. It was a success and I haven't read a story since.
I am a professional storyteller who continues (among friends) the tradition
which has existed since the days of the cave. My last breath will be the end
of my last story.
Could you divulge some of your favourite books of story collections?
I doubt I have a favourite book of stories. I am more interested in agriculture,
draught-horses, folk music and cultural traditions than I am in the written
word. I would love to be able to read easily, but reading is difficult for
me so I tend to take the easy way out and I depend on my ears.
What would be some of your favourite books on the art storytelling and the
meaning within story?
Of all the material I have tried to read, Joseph Campbell has inspired me
the most. His writing is easy, but so full of insight I can hear his voice
in the pages of his books. I listen to the inner man in him who listened to
the inner man in the mythologies of those he lived with.
What do you love most about storytelling as opposed to your writing?
I love storytelling because there is no end to it. Each time I tell a story
it is different. For this reason, I suppose, I tend to favour long stories.
I have to find a quiet place within myself to tell the story well and the
audience has to equally find a quiet place within themselves to be able to
take part in the listening. When I write, and most of the stories I now tell
I have not written down at all, I still write for the spoken word. At present
I am a full-time student with a branch of the ANU in Canberra on a theatre
course. I am involved in the writing of a three-act stage play based on the
life of a wonderful convict woman in early Australia. The play will be produced
early next year and I will get satisfaction from that. But every time I tell
stories I get a lift inside me and there are magic moments, which cannot be
planned for when the simple story you tell for the sake of pleasure, entirely
alters the life of one of the listeners.
Have you learnt many stories direct from other tellers in your wide travels
or in Oz?
I haven't learned stories from other tellers here in Australia. I am often
asked if I do Aboriginal stories. I like to hear them, but I feel we have
robbed them of so much of what was theirs, I have no intention of now stealing
their stories. But I have taken stories from poor people in Third-World countries
and earned a living doing so. This alone raises a question many of us may
not like to answer.
Has your gypsy heritage affected your storytelling?
I am of Gypsy descent (please never use the lower case g for Gypsy). Like
50,000 other Australians I am proud of that tradition. We are an ethnic group
within society preserving the oral tradition of the nations we pass through.
We don't build much, but we don't destroy either. We don't tell many stories
about Romani people or customs. We leave that to others. We talk about the
world as we travel.
My apologies for the lower case g and thank you thank you Brian, for those
terrific tales of your storytelling beginnings! I'm so glad I asked!
Published Swag of Yarns, Australia’s National Storytelling Magazine,
Winter 2004, Vol 7
NB: The magazine Swag of Yarns is sadly now defunct. However you can still
keep informed about storytelling via the website www.swagofyarns.com