Stitches

  

Stitches / Glen Huser
TO: Groundwood Books, c2003.
200 p.

I picked up this short YA novel from my library recently -- I mean, just look at the cover! How could I not want to read this one? And I liked it, but do have a few caveats to that opinion.

The story follows Travis and his best friend Chantelle, as they move from fifth grade to junior high. Travis is different; he loves making puppets and wants to grow up to be a professional puppeteer. Chantelle has many physical disabilities and between them they are the outsider kids in their school. Travis has high hopes for changes in junior high, but while they do have supportive home ec and English teachers, who both encourage Travis' interest in drama and puppets, there is also more homophobic bullying from a group of boys he's known for a long time. But their teachers set them a challenge to present A Midsummer Night's Dream as a puppet show as their final project, and this keeps them going. 

The action in the story is mainly centred around the homophobic violence, which is never clearly resolved in the end. Travis' home life is rough, with a mother who's rarely around - he lives with his aunt and uncle (and the uncle is a mean loud mouth). He doesn't have anyone to confide in or to stand with him at home. Chantelle has older brothers who are rough types but at least support her and by extension, Travis as well, and they come in strongly at the end. 

There is lots of description of Travis and Chantelle sourcing fabric for their puppets at the thrift store, and making things like bags, puppet stages, and more. But I thought from the cover and description that there might be a bit more focus on that part of the story. 

The narrative tone is also a bit confusing. It doesn't feel so much like a young adult living the story, but an adult looking back at the events and telling them in retrospect. And the timing is a bit off; sometimes from one paragraph to the next, you are in the next school year without realizing it at first. I think some spacing/breaks in the typesetting could have helped with the transitions. 

I did like this one. It's set in rural Alberta and has some authenticity there. But I did feel a bit overwhelmed by everything being so dismal for Travis, from home to school, with so many aggressive characters and anger everywhere. I was relieved by the ending, with new hopes coming for Travis as he moves to the city to an arts-based high school. But I also felt that this novel, with important themes, could have been better.  

(review first published at FollowingTheThread.ca)

Two Short Reads: Border Markings & Vi

Border Markers / Jenny Ferguson
Edmonton AB: NeWest Press, c2016.
104 p.

This is first of two short, fragmented storytelling experiences I read recently -- this first one is a novel in flash fiction chapters, following the Lansing family as they begin to break apart after the death of a teenager in their circle. Set in Alberta, the narrative style is as open as the landscape, yet bound within the brevity of the chapters.

The story alternates between different perspectives, those of the family members at different ponts in their lives, and some from the point of view of others involved in their drama. 

The stories are sharp, concise and yet expansive in their possibilities. You start to feel as if you know these characters who are only outlined in brief glimpses. Because of the structure, though, I did feel that the ending didn't come with quite enough punch, with enough closure to round out the building narrative. It trails off, in a sense reflective of the way the individual parts of the book do the same. It was an absorbing and well thought out book though, and I did enjoy the storytelling. 



Vi / Kim Thuy; translated from the French by Sheila Fischman
Toronto: Penguin Random House, c2018
129 p.

On the other side of the country, Kim Thuy's latest novel follows the life of a Vietnamese family who've ended up in Montreal. It's very much focused on the same themes as her last two books, Ru and Man, but here it doesn't carry as much impact, at least for me. 

Told from the point of view of Vi, youngest daughter of a successful Vietnamese family, we hear about her childhood in Vietnam, until the war separates their family. Her mother takes her children and flees to Canada, leaving their father behind. Vi must adjust to this new world, and the story skips ahead over much of their lives, until Vi is a young adult rebelling against her mother and her expectations.

Vi ends up back in Vietnam, with a French lover who eventually disappears, a thread that is unresolved. And Vi herself feels a little unresolved. Like Thuy's other novels, this one is told in brief and fragmentary pieces, but here I couldn't follow the through-line as well and ended up not feeling much connection to this narrative. 

It was good, but not amazing, and I'm already forgetting a lot of it. Hopefully I'll like the next one a little better once again. 

Dr. Edith Vane & the Hares of Crawley Hall

Dr. Edith Vane and the Hares of Crawley Hall / Suzette Mayr
Toronto: Coach House Books, c2017.
224 p.

This is a wild and wacky read, very very Suzette Mayr. It expands on the themes of women's lives, sexuality, and identity which permeate her novels.

It's also very much about the dysfunction in a very strange academic setting.

Dr. Edith Vane is a professor at Crawley Hall, a crumbling arts building alongside the new and fancy buildings put up for the business school right next door. This building has strange hallways, doors, and sub-basements that Edith eventually comes across, expressing her annoyance that not only is their building full of asbestos, crumbling ceiling tiles, and maggots, there are apparently also supernatural shenanigans going on. She takes this quite matter-of-factly as just another annoyance.

The book chronicles her increasing concerns about her performance review under the new Dean who is very, very focused on highly public and visible achievement. Edith has persevered for a decade and has finally had her book on African-Canadian pioneer housewife memoirist Beulah Crump-Withers published, but now that's not even good enough, as it's only being published by the University of Okotoks Press, not a prestigious British press.

She also has to contend with a cast of odd colleagues, who seem to keep dropping like flies, and with the reappearance of her nemesis, her old thesis advisor Lesley Hughes who loves to take credit for everyone else's work. Really, Mayr has thrown every dysfunction into this story!

Oh, and have I mentioned the strange and ominous lurkings of the many unafraid hares in the grounds and indeed inside the actual building of Crawley Hall?

The weirdness is entertaining and hallucinatory. What is actually happening? Can Edith's perceptions be trusted? It's a dark and downward spiralling story, but it is still an immensely satisfying and entertaining reading experience. The only lightness comes in Edith's new relationship with barista Bev, a happy occasion for her, but even that falls apart eventually.

Poor Edith. She has it hard, and just wants a decent office, no evil department head, and a new blouse that doesn't have a pattern that shifts and grows right off her sleeves. Plus no awful students, and time to focus on her true interest, Beulah Crump-Withers.

You've got to read this to get the full experience though. When Mayr mentions the term "hare-brained", she really means it. 

This is funny, dark, truly strange, and yet so recognizable in many ways. I really enjoyed it.

Where I Live Now

Where I Live Now / Sharon Butala
Toronto: Simon & Schuster, c2017.
192 p.

This newly released book was a beautiful and bittersweet read. Butala is a writer known for her descriptive powers, as she has published many books about the small area of Southern Saskatchewan that she relocated to from the city, decades ago when she met her husband Peter. Many of her books lyrically describe the landscape of the very large Butala ranch and its environs, and talk about the particular codes of this isolated rural community. This one does the same, but in a more overtly elegaic manner. 

The story starts with Butala having to leave the land that has become a part of her over 30 years. This is because, unexpectedly, her husband becomes terminally ill, and there is no way for her to stay on alone. The chapters in which she discusses her husband's illness are emotionally fraught, and when she describes the final moments they had together, I was overcome and had to put the book down for a couple of days. 

But I had to go back to it. Her writing ranges from the history of the land (ancient to current) to examinations of her marriage to thoughts about her place in this rural community, and in the new community she finds herself making in Calgary, of all places. As usual, the writing is measured, thoughtful, and philosophical, while being utterly grounded in the physical world. She can describe the beauty of sunsets, fields, skies, and history itself, while retaining a sense of humour about herself and her enthusiasms - like the time she thought she'd discovered a large dinosaur bone (tip: it wasn't).

She gives the reader a candid account of her journey through grief and loss, and does so in a way which comforts through her understanding of the larger sweep of existence. Looking back and speaking of the life and the person she's lost bring vibrancy to them once again. 

Her story also provides a sense of how the loss of both a spouse and a way of life untether a person, how it takes time to find a place for oneself again.

I found this book both beautiful and heart-breaking. Butala is, as always, honest and heartfelt in her writing, and it is very powerful here.

The Green Tomato Years

The Green Tomato Years / Gloria Kupchenko Frolick
Toronto: Williams-Wallace, c1985.
142 p.

Another book I just happened across, this short story collection is infused with the Ukrainian experience. Even the beautiful cover is a William Kurelek painting.

The author states that "it had been in my mind to write these stories for many years. They represent a fulfillment of a vow I had undertaken to write something as a tribute to my parents and brothers and sisters... ". And this is a heartfelt collection, a little uneven, but which really illuminates immigrant life in the Depression & war/postwar years, with special attention to her Ukrainian background.

I thought the first story, "The Counsellor" was the strongest. It is light-hearted, sincere, and engaging. In it, a young girl is working for a neighbour who needs some help around the house, as she's just had her second baby - at age 40. The perspective of this young girl highlights the quirks of adult behaviour and emotional upsets, and allows for a conclusion that isn't either maudlin or too jokey; it's just her report of what's happening. This story's tone and characters remind me quite a lot of Gabrielle Roy's Manitoba-set books. They have the same sense of innocence & nostalgia, and there are echoes of Roy's style. It also reminded me of the lightness in some of Olena Pchilka's short stories about girls in Ukraine.

Kupchenko Frolick also uses a child's perspective in other stories, but more often with a focus on their own experience. As the book progresses, the stories get less light-hearted and deal more with disappointments, sorrows, and fears. In the very brief "Mrs. Paush", the lack of reproductive options for women leads to tragedy.  In "Such A Nice Young Man", a young woman and her sister take their Ukrainian background as a given, but are far more focused on being modern young people. They realize their position in the community, however, when the son of the richest family in town tries to rape the younger daughter; her story is discounted and excuses are made for him (what is new?) This was another disturbing scene that has me wondering why the three books I've just finished all include this theme: is it because I'm reading books by women about women's experience in particular? Is it that writers today are trying to remove the shroud of secrecy around these kinds of experiences? It could be all of these, but the prevalence of this kind of violence is still sad to realize. 

The book closes on a melancholy note, with the description of a youth group going carolling on a Ukrainian Christmas eve. They are out in the country, enjoying their sleigh ride, and stopping in at various places to sing. It's peaceful, beautiful, and highlights tradition; yet the bittersweet nature of life comes through. Kupchenko Frolick seems to notice the undercurrents in all situations, and can't avoid mentioning them. Even when the conclusion of this story, and thus the book as a whole, ends on a positive note, it never feels saccharine, but grounded in daily life.

The nine stories included here provide a variety of perspectives, some very brief vignettes and a couple which are a bit longer. Each of them evokes the sense of a life now gone, in a specific place and time. I liked this collection and appreciated the variety of her stories, with their balance of sorrows and joys.


 

Bohunk Road

Bohunk Road / Hope Morritt
Sarnia: River City Press, c1987.
116 p.

I found this book in a 2nd hand store and had to pick it up because of its Ukrainian content. I found it both interesting and disturbing.

First of all, the title itself is a little off-putting, even though it refers to the road on the edges of Edmonton that the main characters live on, and its common name among the city's inhabitants. "Bohunk" is quite a rude slur, in reference to Ukrainians, so it makes sense that in the 40s & 50s in which this story is set that it would still be in use. But it's still hard to read.

And a lot of this story is hard: main character Natalka is the second daughter of the Wisnowski family, and she is determined to shake off the trappings of her ethnicity. Her ideal is to leave her family's embarrassing tar paper shack and all their traditions, and marry an American soldier and become a perfect 50s wife. This seems possible as there are numerous soldiers stationed in Edmonton, building the Alaska-Canada Highway for US wartime defense purposes. I had no idea about this event so was surprised and interested to learn that loads of Americans in Alberta at this time was indeed an historical fact.

After many struggles (some quite harrowing -- the attempted murder of her new boyfriend by assailants unknown though suspected, an attempted rape by a creepy neighbour, to name a couple) she succeeds in her goal. And begins to wonder if she perhaps hadn't married a little too soon; her dream of marriage takes her to the North (to Whitehorse), and gives her two children quickly, but also takes away her university prospects forever.

The part of this short book which deals with her dissatisfaction and longing to escape home is quite elaborate and rich; once she's married the story skims ahead quickly and episodically over a number of years, until the finale, in which she returns home and realizes the value of family and identity after all.

There are moments of loveliness in the first part of the book, notably a chapter focusing on a Christmas celebration. But there is much grittiness and misery, and frank language and discussion of rough experiences. The feeling of  'overcoming' one's ethnic upbringing to become a real North American success story reminds me quite a bit of elements of Vera Lysenko's Yellow Boots.   There is also the same sense of dislocation in both books with the main character being away from home for only a decade at most, and when they finally go back, it has all changed dramatically.


Despite the reservations I had about this book's literary merits, and some of the things I found disturbing (particularly the attempted rape scene), it was an illuminating read. I thought the way in which Morritt juxtaposed Natalka, her mother Martha, and her frail grandmother Anastasia highlighted the changes that overtake a family over a generation. This is another book that really focuses on women and their experiences, and creates a wide range of women who are all very different and individual in their character and behaviour. I felt that this story speaks of a Ukrainian experience in a way I haven't read a lot, honestly expressing the urge of some younger people to leave their heritage behind in an era where it wasn't a benefit.

Pam Clark's Kalyna

Kalyna / Pam Clark
Edmonton: Stonehouse Publishing, c2016.
304 p.

I won this book in a contest run by a Ukrainian arts organization, and was delighted -- I really wanted to read it and really small presses like Stonehouse don't often appear in my library's collection. 

This is a historical novel, which opens with a couple from Ukraine who choose to emigrate to the great promised land of Canada a few years prior to WWI . They are leaving their homes and families in Ukraine for the promise of owning land and finding freedom in a new country.

Wasyl and Katja are young and newly married when they head to Canada, befriending a young man who is all alone on the ship as well as an alarmingly depressed woman whose husband was denied passage and so is travelling alone. Katja helps her survive and function until they get to Montreal, where she is able to wait for him to follow. Ivan, meanwhile, follows them out to Alberta where they homestead side by side in Edna-Star, a small community near Edmonton, where there are already some other Ukrainians. 

Katja is a woman who is stronger than she knows, and all the struggles of homesteading, bearing children and keeping going when disaster arrives illuminate this strength. The disaster takes the form of Wasyl and Ivan being arrested for not having papers with them, once WWI starts and immigrants from the Austro-Hungarian Empire (which included Galicia, or Ukraine, at that time) are considered enemy aliens, despite the fact that they fled that empire on purpose.

Wasyl becomes a leader in the Banff Internment camps, staying calm and level-headed even in the face of what was essentially forced labour, building a mountain road by hand. Cold weather, inadequate clothing, shelter or food, and undeserved imprisonment and cruelty by some guards drove some men to try to escape, with at times deadly results. Wasyl is a determined man, however, and will put up with many things in order to be able to return home to Katja. I maybe liked Wasyl because of his strong, dependable character, or maybe it was partly because my great-grandpa who immigrated in 1911 was also named Wasyl.

The internment of Ukrainians in WWI is not a familiar story for many Canadians, but I feel it's vital for us to know, especially in this year of celebrations of our 150 year history. It is important to recognize faults and errors in order to progress without repeating them. 

There are a few weaknesses in this novel -- there is a villian of the piece, Dr. Smith, an Anglo doctor from Edmonton who is a bit of a failure, and goes to this small settlement of Edna-Star where he can be a big fish in a small pond. He has an eye for the ladies, especially the pretty young married ones, and there is a rape scene that I found quite disturbing. Later on in the book it becomes more understandable what his role in the book is, but for the first half I was not convinced this subplot was necessary. And 2/3 of the way through the book, it jumps to the story of Katja's youngest daughter, Kalyna, who is now a young woman heading to university in Edmonton, which brings up a whole other element of Western Canadian history. I was so invested in Katja and Wasyl's story though, that I would have liked more of that instead of a new element; Kalyna could have had a whole book to herself!

But I still think that this was a honest effort to shine a light on a part of Canadian history that is top of mind for many of us with Ukrainian descent. The story is straightforward, appealing to readers who would like to learn more about this part of history and/or who are interested in the particularly female experience of immigration & settlement -- I think that the women in this book are really at its heart, and are what kept me reading. 

****************************************************

Further Reading:

Barbara Sapergia's Blood & Salt is another, slightly more literary novel about the internments, with a strong male lead (and also Kalynas), while Lubomyr Luciuk's groundbreaking academic work, In Fear of the Barbed Wire Fence, is the source of much of the fiction that has followed in this vein.

Black Apple

Black Apple / Joan Crate
Toronto: Simon &; Schuster, c2016.
336 p.

This novel, set in the 40s & 50s, is written with good intent: to shine a light on the residential school system in Canadian history. It features a young Cree girl being torn from her family and placed in a school run by nuns, with the kinds of terrible things happening that we've all heard about now.

I thought it was an okay read -- certainly one with strong and timely content. However, I found the writing to be a little bit surface oriented, where there was great opportunity to go a little deeper and show the inner life of these characters fully.

Sinopaki aka Rose Marie is taken to residential school at a young age, and feels bereft of her family, who are so far away that she can't see them often, even for holidays. She begins to form an attachment to Mother Grace, and finds that she has a skill for academics. Despite the fact that Mother Grace manipulates her family and Rose Marie's own opportunities according to what she sees as "best", Rose Marie still has a strong connection to Grace even after leaving the convent. This saintly nun doing her best in the face of corruption among priests and church managment seems a little facile; she seems excused from any residential school wrongdoing altogether. I'm not sure I could believe that Grace's long service and exhaustion are a reason for her not to be responsible for what happens at the school she's running.

After Rose Marie's long years at the residential school she feels assimilated into the white culture around her; she get a job in a nearby town rather than return to her family. However, even here she faces racism and violence. But this last section of the book really comes off as a bit hokey and romance novelish, as she meets a nice man at the boarding house who protects her from other not-nice men even as he introduces her to her first sexual experience. And then Rose Marie has an awakening and realizes she must return to her family to understand herself. 

The story seemed a bit YAish, with limited complexity or examination of really dark themes. And the romance thread just didn't work for me. I thought the writing was capable, though both stark and overdone simultaneously in a few instances. I think that Lise, a reviewer on Goodreads, captured my feeling about this book when she says " I love Joan Crate's poetry, but find her fiction very thin. She wrote with an agenda, and therefore her heart doesn't speak."

I wanted to love this book; I ended up liking it but having quite a few hesitancies about the way the story turned out. And the title, while referring to the town that the school is in, has unpleasant connotations for me as well. So not a hit for this reader. 

The Three Sisters Bar & Hotel

The Three Sisters Bar & Hotel / Katherine Govier
Toronto: HarperAvenue, c2016
475 p.

This is a lengthy family saga full of great Canadiana -- the Rocky Mountains, American fossil hunters, generations of families descended from wilderness guides and such, the history of the Canadian Parks System, Ottawa bureaucrats, winter storms that people are lost in -- what else might be added?

If you love family stories over three generations, if you love books in which the setting becomes a character, if you have the strange predilection that I do for books featuring three sisters, then I suggest you give this one a try.

It begins in Gateway, Alberta, in 1911 (and Gateway is strangely reminiscent of Canmore, as a mountain town with a view of the Three Sisters, iconic mountain peaks that I've seen myself).

Gateway is a town that's rough and rules itself, and the government's meddling while turning the landscape into a national park isn't much appreciated by the independent souls who live there. This set of characters eventually interacts with the story of two civil servants charged with the paperwork to kick off the Parks System. The two threads don't mesh all that well, though; jumping back to dreary office life in Ottawa feels a bit dull after reading about mountain exploration, blizzards and disappearances in Alberta.

Actually, the book is structured in four parts, focusing on past -- Herbie's story, and a section focused on the Ottawa parks people (which could have been condensed significantly, I think) -- and present, in which Herbie's 3 granddaughters are called back to Gateway by their elderly parents after said parents decided it was a brilliant idea to buy the old hotel and restore it with their daughters' help. 

I loved the setting and the scientific element of the fossil expedition, in particular; I love sciencey content in my fiction!  Many of the characters of that era were really engaging. I felt less fond of the current day story, as redoing an old building with your parents and adult siblings just isn't as wildly fascinating as riding off into the uncharted mountains and facing down nature. I also thought the segments about the Parks staff were interesting (the long-suffering secretary was wonderful) but could have made another whole novel instead of being too much with us in this one.

But if you'd like to read a book about the wilds of Alberta in 1911 and onward, this is a great choice. Lots of history and research in this story, and a setting that is evocative and beautiful.  



**If you're interested, you can listen to a brief interview about this book which Katherine Govier gave on The Next Chapter a year ago.

Blood and Salt

Blood and Salt / Barbara Sapergia
Regina: Coteau Books, c2012.
448 p.

This is a book that I knew I'd be fascinated by: it tells the story of Ukrainian Canadians who were placed in internment camps during WWI, under the mistaken assumption that they belonged to the AustroHungarian empire and were therefore enemy aliens.

The fact that there were Ukrainian internment camps comes as a surprise to many people; but there were, both in Western and Eastern Canada. (another book that deals with this issue, though aimed at children, is Marsha Skrypuch's Prisoners in the Promised Land It looks at the eastern camp of Spirit Lake which was again different because it held whole families, not just men.)

This is a book written in a simple, conversational tone. It isn't fancy. It tells an important story in a way that feels as if you're sitting listening to someone talk. The main character is Taras Kalyna, who immigrated with his parents after they feared he was going to have to fight in an upcoming war for Austria. Taras' true love Halya immigrated ahead of him with her father and grandmother, and Taras swears he will find her.

The Kalynas get to Canada and take a long train ride west to their new land. As they settle in and begin to make a life for themselves, WWI begins, and Taras, as a young healthy man, is arrested and interned at the Castle Mountain Internment camp (although there is some question as to who turned him in and why...) He and the other men interned are required to hack through forests and dig rock to build a new highway, the Banff-Laggan (Lake Louise) road, summer or winter. Some of the guards are decent men, some are typical of those guarding others -- power hungry and abusive. There are many men in the camp, and Taras finally finds his own private circle, a varied group of men he befriends through proximity. The kinds of men -- a socialist, a teacher, an artist, for example -- in Taras' circle allow for the story to insert elements of the Ukrainian Canadian story in a natural way. And there is a lot of history in this book; I felt that Sapergia was able to weave the facts and the "lectures" into the story very naturally, and give it a meaningful context so that it didn't feel like a textbook or a clumsy history lesson. Each of the men has a past and a particular interest, and their relationships with each other and with the guards develop naturally to provide a complex picture of the situation.

But this book is something more than a history of internment camps. The back story and the incidental side characters are both developed fully, allowing for a lot of mystery and resonance in the telling. We learn about  life in Ukraine that led many to emigrate, we see, taste and smell Western Canada as it looked to immigrants in the early part of the century, we learn fascinating social realities and meet Ukrainians who are not all the same, who are not a faceless mass of "peasants in sheepskin coats" but are individuals with particular habits, mannerisms, fears and joys, likes and dislikes. Not only Taras' story is told, but also Halya's (she is a great character) Through her we get a glimpse at women's lives during this era. Taras' friends in the internment camps also have stories before and after their experience there. His parents make their own way through this new land, befriending Moses, the local "black Ukrainian", an orphan from an African American immigrant family who was adopted by a childless Ukrainian man and grows up to be both black and Ukrainian by language and culture.

It's a rich tale that is paced well and reveals injustice and horror, as well as loyalty, friendship and true love. You don't have to be Ukrainian to enjoy it, but you will certainly learn about the Ukrainian Canadian experience if you do read it! I'd be shocked if this book didn't end up on the shortlist for the Kobzar Award, as it raises awareness of Ukrainian Canadian culture in a beautifully readable way. Highly recommended for anyone looking for stories of Canadians that have remained untold for many years.

**there is a monument to the Ukrainians who built the road, right alongside the highway at the site of Castle Mountain Internment Camp. It reads "Why?" in English, French and Ukrainian.

author website here

Inspiration through Introspection

I have an exciting book review/interview/spotlight to share with you... introducing the launch of my sister's first photo book, Introspection!

Arranged alphabetically by theme, it is full of inspiring images and brief essays, leading a reader to ponder and reflect. This book has recently received an honourable mention in the world-wide Writer’s Digest self-publishing contest, and author Karen Kindrachuk is set to take it on tour starting today.

I am especially proud of this beautiful book, as Karen is my sister. Her original photography and thoughtful words are a reflection of the many years in which she has pursued both her artistic interests and her career in helping others, most particularly seniors, via recreation therapy. To celebrate the launch of Introspection, I’ve asked Karen to speak about what inspired this book, and how she envisions it helping others.

What inspired you to create this book?

My brother-in-law [yes, that would be my dh] found a new self-publishing website and thought I should check it out. When I saw the page dimensions, I thought I’d just start to mess around a bit and put together a sample page to see what a couple of people thought. They liked the first page…nine days later the book was finished – complete. Nine really, really long days in the batcave. Nine 16-20 hour days in the batcave. Once I started, I couldn’t stop.

What caused your decision to self-publish? or, what was your publishing process?

I went the self-publishing route for two main reasons:

1) I am not renowned for my patience, and

2) I spent 13 years as a graphic designed in the commercial printing field, so my technical skills were up to the challenge and I knew how to create the product in order for it to look as I wanted it to. The technical expertise proved invaluable when negotiating with and interviewing printers. When I found the right printer for me there were no ‘initial’ mistakes and time-wasting multiple proofs – everyone was on the same page.

I started with a hosted self-publishing option, but had zero control over quality-control. That didn’t work for me, so I started my own publishing company – Sole Purpose Books. It didn’t take as long as I expected to registered with the Canadian ISBN Service System, get an import/export number registered, then design and set up a new website. I just did my first bulk order, and 1000 copies of Introspection will be arriving at my door in mid-November.

This book is beautifully put together & very thoughtful. What do you hope readers will take away from it?

Thank you for your kind words! The goal behind Introspection is to nurture and inspire the human spirit. Because each person is unique, the goal is simply get people to start to speculate, dissect, evaluate, contemplate and just generally explore their thoughts. The way they translate those thoughts into their own lives will be unique, because they – and their situation – is unique.

The photography and the writing is all your work, as was the design & printing — can you tell us a bit about how you put all your skills together in creating this book?

My technical skills took care of the design & printing aspect. It was great to be back in – both feet – in a graphic project I was passionate about. My eye just tells me when it’s right, but with this book I saw the layout in my head before I even started, so that saved some time.
The photos were a bit more challenging as I found it hard to choose just the ‘right’ picture for some of the letter, considering the significant size of my photo collection.Each picture relates to the topic being discussed, one way or another. Sometimes that connection is obvious, sometimes it’s a bit more hidden. People always ask me about the photos, where they were taken? what was I doing? Introspection was a perfect way to start introducing my photos and gauge people’s reactions.

Sometimes the photo influenced the writing, sometimes the other way around. Not only does the writing contains pieces from as long as 20 years ago, but I’ve also switched up the writing design-wise. When discussing the concept of "Understanding" the prose is in the shape of a funnel. When reflecting on the concept of "Escaping", the prose is presented as the outline of a palm tree. It’s fun to do, and by changing up the text style now and again, it forces your brain to process the information differently, meaning your brain also stores the information differently. Did I mention I am fascinated by brain research?

So, to answer your question the long way, I just took three components of myself that are important to me and combined them into one package.

How are you letting people know about your book?

I kind of feel like I’m doing a grassroots political campaign! A lot of ‘getting out there’ and getting to know people. Learning how to ‘talk up’ my book at every opportunity, while not being hard-sell and turning people off. Tag-teaming with Starbucks to do author events at different locations. I’ve gotten involved in social media…I now Facebook, Twitter, soon-to-YouTube, and host a blog dedicated to Introspection.

The original concept of the website being a landing point for Introspection expanded somewhat in the process. I convinced my sister [yes, me again] to add her books to the Sole Purpose name, then I added a cover design service and a listing service — both intended to provide an economical option for other writers wanting to self-publish. And last, but not least, an Accessories section evolved containing other products focusing on wellness such as journals, art cards, motivation prints, and nature photography, all of which use my photos and/or designs.

Blog: http://www.rustynjerome.wordpress.com/
Web: http://www.solepurpose.ca/
Facebook: http://on.fb.me/bYy5Wo
Twitter: @solepurposebks

Karen’s book launch and first reading is going to be held at the Okotoks Starbucks tonight, for all of you in the Calgary area, with another reading at the Okotoks Library on November 1st. For everyone else, pop over to the blog to get more information and take a look!

Congratulations, Karen, and good luck with the launch.

[cross posted at Four Rooms Creative Self Care]

Cleavage )( Theanna Bischoff

Cleavage / Theanna Bischoff
Edmonton: NeWest Press, c2008.
122 p.

This slim novel was shortlisted for the 2009 Relit Awards and the Commonwealth First Book Award (Canada). It began as an assignment for a writing class that Bischoff decided to take in a last minute decision, and it is lucky for us that she made that choice.

This novel was a great read; told in a bit of a choppy narrative style, with lists and magazine quizzes and living wills interspersed with the story, it still has a strong narrative arc. The storyline is informed by the author's studies in psychology and women's experiences of a cancer diagnosis -- I found it very convincing. On the back, the style is compared to Miriam Toews' A Complicated Kindness, but I just don't see that at all. This book is so much more interesting, and I don't see a great deal of overlap.

The plot is this: Leah Jordan, at 24, discovers she has breast cancer. She is in a two year relationship with Justin, who is a bit of an immature, self absorbed guy. They live together in Calgary but as the book starts they are on a road trip to British Columbia, trying to get away from the stress of daily living with cancer treatment, however they end up having a terrible fight. The title, Cleavage, thus refers both to breasts and to the divisions apparent in their relationship. Leah's experience of cancer changes the way she interacts with the world -- as the author says:

Having cancer gives Leah permission, in a sense, to do and say a lot of things that aren’t typically acceptable. Modern society really emphasizes rationality and keeping one’s emotions in check, but with Leah, I was able to really explore the dark side of a person’s psyche, and the cynical things we all think but don’t say aloud.

Leah thinks about her possible future, she waffles between hope and despair, she feels stuck in the relationship with this man who isn't all bad but just isn't the right one for her. As the book opens she breaks up with Justin - then we get a look back to see how it has come to this. By the book's end, Leah is considering leaving Calgary to move to Edmonton - that way their relationship will hopefully just fade away rather than Leah having to decisively dump him for good, but Justin, oblivious, offers to move with her. The relationship shows Leah's angst, unable to choose a strong future, unable perhaps to see one. The conclusion is ambiguous, however; will she stay with him? Will she move on? Throughout the novel we see many parts of Leah, personal moments which people often prefer to keep hidden. Her bad behaviours, unsociable thoughts, estrangement from her sister, all these things reveal her emotional trauma at going through this experience essentially alone. She tries to bridge the gap a few times, to act from a more compassionate place, but all around her is staying the same and making it hard for her to change. She doesn't seem to have any epiphanies due to her cancer, she does not suddenly see the way forward and thank cancer for making her life meaningful. But there are subtle signs that perhaps she is moving forward, beyond her passive and directionless current life. Is this due to the cancer or to the routine process of growing up? Not so clear.

The voice of the book is fantastic. Leah seems so real, and so isolated in her experience of this disease. While the story is centred around her treatment, it is more about her psychological state as she undergoes this experience, how it changes the things she has taken for granted, the things she has not committed to, like her relationship, or her working life. Her cynicism is one way of coping, of not giving in to the sentimentality that can appear in this context. At one point, Leah states:

I am sick of the pink ribbons. Slap a pink ribbon on stationery, stuffed poodles, bracelets, toques, car windshields, lapels. Silly, smiling women walking for a cure, shouting empowerment in the air, clutching their mothers and daughters to their chests. They think the pink ribbons are points – collect enough and breast cancer will disappear. They don’t understand. This game has endless levels. You can play as long as you want.

Leah's character is amazing. She is a completely believable 20-something who is coping with a terrible situation. She drifts a bit, directionless, but has a strong core within her that seems to be getting slowly drawn out by her circumstances. I loved the way she spoke, and the additions of newspaper articles, a magazine quiz, a sarcastic resume, dictionary entries, postcards, etc. between the narrative itself are intriguing, adding to the story and not at all gimmicky. They all seem like something Leah would do, keep a scrapbook of sorts of miscellaneous information along with this record of her illness and her survival. I thought the story and the form were wonderfully suited, and found Bischoff to be a supremely confident writer who has turned out a very well crafted story.

She is currently studying for her PhD in psychology - I just hope that along with her future career as a psychologist she will continue writing fiction. I enjoyed reading this novel, feeling as if I was being led through this not-so-pleasant life by someone that I could trust would give it meaning. Definitely recommended if you are interested in modern narratives about young Canadian women or about those dealing with serious illness.

Mitchell's Under this Unbroken Sky

Under this Unbroken Sky / Shandi Mitchell

Toronto: Penguin, c2009.

354 p.

This is the second Canadian Book Challenge choice I finished last weekend. It's about Ukrainian immigrants in Canada, set in the 1930's - both elements which appeal to me. Also, this is possibly The Book that spurred Victoria Glendinning's recent sniffy complaint about the boring tendency of Canadian fiction to focus on the past and forebears such as "Granny who spent her youth in Ukraine".

I loved the fact that this story was completely about a Ukrainian family in Alberta and their trials in the promised freedom of a new country. Teodor Mykolayenko, his wife Maria and their five children come to Canada, alongside Theo's sister Anna, her two children, and her nasty husband Stefan, a former army officer who is not adjusting well to becoming a nobody, a Bohunk on a hardscrabble homestead. Taking Theo, a character who had already suffered greatly in WWI and under Stalin, then drawing a portrait of the not much improved life of the family in the so-called land of plenty was illuminating. Their problems arise from climate (this is the Dirty Thirties), from miscommunication, from racism among Canadians of English backgrounds, and from the horrors they bring within themselves. The role of Ukrainians in agricultural settlement of the Canadian West was huge; even today the present day Ukrainian population of Canada is the third largest in the world, after Ukraine and Russia. This novel delineates the true difficulties that these homesteaders faced, and the relentless hard physical work it was to clear land and produce enough to feed and keep one's family. It also reveals the isolation that could result when a family left their homeland knowing they would never return, forced to rely on one another even when those relationships were not always friendly. Theo ends up caring for his own family and for Anna's, Stefan only reappearing when all the hard work is done and he wants to claim the spoils.

Unfortunately, I found this novel to be a bit narratively unsettling. I don't like the historical present tense very much in any case, but here especially I felt it didn't sit quite right with the story. Also, it is clear that the author is a filmmaker: she describes the action of the story in a series of images -- beautifully evoked, but the timeline was a little hard to follow as imagistic set pieces trumped straightforward narrative progression. It's not that I expect "this happened, then this, then this"; but a little causality and character development would have helped me to really believe the shocking conclusion. I was confused by the dates given in the preface and through the story, not being quite able to place all the events in sequence.

Also, it was really bleak. I know that the lives of settlers were very hard; poverty, drought, isolation, hunger all abounded, but surely there were a few good times as well. Every single awful thing that happened to Ukrainian settlers didn't have to be experienced by this hard luck family! The grimness of the book doesn't really lighten up; all the children are fairly miserable, obsessing over the few things they do possess -- a heart shaped stone, a chicken, a ball of dough representing Christ. Even when they are playing they are somehow subdued and afraid. The adults are necessarily stoic in the face of all this misery, Theo and Maria especially, while Anna goes a bit mad and her husband Stefan is a caricature of a drunken, self important bully. His final disappearance is questionably set up - would he really behave in such a manner? And I felt the same at the climax of the story - I was taken aback by the action; Theo's character throughout didn't seem to suggest that he would finally act as he did.

However, this is a B&N book club choice in the States, and seems to have been received very well. Many people with a lot more literary cred than I have love this book. It may feel very new and unexpected to people with no knowledge of Ukrainian settlement of Western Canada, in particular, and if it does enlighten people as to the presence of Ukrainians whose hard work settlement depended upon then I am very glad.

It was a thought provoking read about characters that overall I was quite interested in. Mitchell included a few interesting non-narrative additions such as a couple of recipes, and a description of period photos (not the photos themselves). There were some nicely drawn elements even if as a whole I found it just okay. But I really would have appreciated a few more sunbeams breaking through the lowering clouds of this unbroken sky.



Here is Shandi Mitchell talking about her book:

A few other opinions:

Rhapsodyinbooks wholeheartedly recommends it

nfmgirl from Cerebral Girl in a Redneck World gives it 9.5 out of 10 stars

Aritha van Herk weighs its pros and cons at the Globe and Mail

Adamson's Outlander

The Outlander / Gil Adamson
Toronto: Anansi, c2008
312 p.


The plot of this one is pretty well known by now, at least in Canada -- from the publisher:

In 1903 a mysterious, desperate young woman flees alone across the west, one quick step ahead of the law. She has just become a widow by her own hand. Gil Adamson's extraordinary novel opens in heart-pounding mid-flight and propels the reader through a gripping road trip with a twist -- the steely outlaw in this story is a grief-struck nineteen-year-old woman.

Mary Boulton, the aforementioned widow, was an interesting character; she has a relentless drive to make it through the wilderness after fleeing from the murder of her husband. She seems to have very good luck in running across men (always men) who help her in this process. Her story begins powerfully, in the dark with Mary in full flight, pursued by dogs and her malignant ex-brothers-in-law. The writing is exquisitely descriptive and the scene draws you into the book before you even realize you've turned so many pages. The sense of pursuit remains throughout the book, adding tension to even the most mundane scenes.

While I enjoyed the story overall, the problem I had with Mary was that I never felt that I understood her. We learn of her childhood, of how she came to marry and leave her civilized upbringing, of what exactly happened to drive her to murder and flight. However, there is never a clear why to any of it, and I could not get a sense of Mary's motivations. She seems to suffer from postpartum depression, or is it just the voices she's heard all her life? Not really sure. I am also not really sure if I bought the brothers' actions near the end of the book; they are drawn so clearly as vengeful harbingers of justice that I expected them to do away with Mary when they found her, but their meeting is strangely anticlimactic.

Still, I found the writing, especially the descriptive passages, generally strong. I enjoyed the writing style probably as much or more than the plot -- the story moved along and carried me with it, but on reflection I did find I had some problems with the plotline. One part of the book I found most satisfying was Mary's eventual existence in the real town of Frank, Alberta. Adamson describes it as a mining camp of rough and ready workers, where Mary stands out as the "beloved sister" of local preacher and the only trustworthy man, Angus Lorne Bonnycastle. Mary started to come together as a character once she stopped moving, although unfortunately it was only a brief hiatus for her. Her time in Frank ends when the real life tragedy known as the Frank Slide occurs. In the early morning hours of April 29, 1903, the top of Turtle Mountain collapsed, causing an extensive landslide that wiped out a swathe of the town of Frank, killing an estimated 70 people. However, the reality of this occurrence also tells us that the "bustling town of Frank was home to approximately 600 people in 1903" and that many of the survivors were children. Frank was a town with proper homes, families, and a railway line as well as just coal mines, so I am not certain that Mary would have stood out as such an anomaly as a woman. Still, it does make for very dramatic storytelling, and when she returns to the town at the end of the book it is suitably ambiguous. Just as in the beginning we are not quite sure what or why Mary is doing what she does. It was a thought-provoking story, but you can likely tell that my reactions to it are rather ambiguous as well. I appreciated the skill and talent Adamson brings to the book, but I am not sure that the story fully engaged my imagination or sympathies. Read a few other reviews for a less muddled take on this one!


Other reviews:

Pickle Me This

Keepin' It Real Bookclub

Random Jottings of a Book and Opera Lover

Lizzy's Literary Life

Plainsong

Plainsong / Nancy Huston

Toronto: HarperCollins, c1993.

226 p.

This was the second novel by Canadian born, Paris based Nancy Huston. It is set in Alberta, where Huston was born, and follows the history of Alberta from settlement through World Wars, the Depression and forward. It runs through four generations of the Sterling family, told by narrator Paula, as a reimagining of her grandfather Paddon's life. Entitled Plainsong, it hints at medieval plainsong (mentioned in the text), a form of song which has one simple line, with no flourishes or harmonies. It echoes Paddon's isolation, as well as the religious themes threaded throughout the novel. Plainsong also gives me the sense that Huston is telling as an epic the story of a man who lives a stifled, frustrated life, as in Homer's opening lines of the Odyssey:

"Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns driven time and again off course"

Told in the unusual 2nd person narrative style, the book is addressed to Paddon. While the attempt at 2nd person often fails, here I found it successful. The idea that an individual is essentially unknown plays out in this telling; Paula was Paddon's favourite grandchild, and now that he has died, she is trying to figure out the reality of this man whom not many people loved as wholly as she did. She is trying to recreate his life story, and the technique of addressing it to Paddon gives us the feeling that she is waiting for him to reply, to tell her that she's on the right track. The writing style is flowing, elements like long sentences with few commas contributing to a rhythm that feels like a train in motion. (one reason why I feel this cover is perfect for the book.) Paula's imagination leads her on and on until near the end of the book she breaks in as herself once or twice, asking whether she's got it right. That element highlights the creative act necessary in understanding another individual, in life or in fiction. Another interesting stylistic choice in the novel is that it opens with Paddon's death, and although Paula then moves through his life non-chronologically, the story leads us to the moment of his birth, and even earlier, to the moment of his conception. It draws attention to a person's character and life being shaped by more than the individual personality, rather placing them into a familial and geographical context.

But apart from all my appreciation for the structure of the novel, it also tells an absorbing story of generations of a family, the problems handed down one to another. These include adultery, physical abuse, emotional coldness, and the inability to achieve worldly success. Even so, there are moments of happiness and peace in life. Paddon had gone to university and found it immensely fulfilling; he intended to write a comprehensive dissertation on the concept of Time. But life intervened; he married and had children and began farming. His frustrated ambitions and search for meaning to life combine to make him deeply agnostic, in opposition to his Lutheran wife and Catholic missionary sister. The religious schism as well as his tendency toward violence harm his relationships with his wife and with his children, and he only finds the ability to relate peaceably to family once he has grandchildren. One part of the storyline has him having a long term affair with a Native artist. This allows for his softer side to be shown, as well as to tie Native history into the Albertan history of his own family. It was fascinating but perhaps not 100% likely. Still, the self-destructive nature of Paddon's life, covering so much time and so many historical events (the Depression, the first ever Calgary Stampede, etc.) makes for compelling reading. I felt like the prose carried me forward, trying to pick out the trajectory of a circumscribed life. Here is Paula near the beginning, recalling a part of her relationship with her grandfather:

When I was about six you lifted me next to you on the piano bench and told me about Scarlatti's cat. One day, you explained, Scarlatti's cat marched delicately across the keyboard, setting its paws down precisely and at random, every five semitones or so, and the composer made a fugue of the melody thus produced. That, you told me, is love.

Listen -- one note after the other, going up. Slow strange solitary notes. A lot of flats. A lot of black notes. One, one, one, one, one, one -- going up. Listen -- in an inimitably minor key. You walked across the keyboard of the century, Paddon, trying to watch where you were going, and you failed. Listen to the notes. Black and white notes played out virtually at random. But a lot of flats. A lot of accidentals. You kept on waiting for Scarlatti to intervene, didn't you? You couldn't believe there was no Scarlatti, there never would be any Scarlatti. You would rather have smashed the piano to smithereens than accept the idea that no Scarlatti would come, ever, to build a fugue around your mournful melody.

This excerpt gives the sense of the man Paddon was, how people saw him. I admired how Huston was able to take the life of such a man and make it so sympathetic and so interesting. The writing itself was a big attraction as well; it is accomplished and poetic. This book won the 1993 Governor General's award for Fiction in French once Huston had translated it herself (a bit controversial at the time as it was first written in English). Huston habitually translates her own works, however, whether she writes them first in French or English. This was a fascinating read and I will be looking for more of Huston.

Mountain Summers

Reflections on a Mountain Summer / Joanna M. Glass
Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, c1974.
307 p.

This is a novel written by a Saskatoon-born author, who lived in California for many years, is known primarily as a playwright, and is soon to move to the theatre town I currently live in. That explains why my library has suddenly purchased most of her work, and of her two novels, this looked most interesting to me. The structure appealed to me: Jay Rutherford, now in his mid-fifties, is writing a book. It's the story of the defining summer of his life, 1932, when he was fourteen. While Jay's family usually inhabits a wealthy enclave of Michigan, they've built a chateau for themselves in Buena Vista, in the Canadian Rockies. He and his parents spend one summer there.

At the time Jay begins his reminiscences, he still lives in upper crust Michigan, with his wife Pat and university-age daughter Deb, who is staking out her independence by moving to an apartment in downtown Detroit. I most enjoyed the moments in the book when Jay was talking about his writing and how it fit in (or not) to his daily life with Pat. The drama of the long-ago summer wasn't actually all that interesting to me, despite its being Jay's obsession. The basic story: Jay's parents married in what could be termed a society-arranged marriage -- his mother had the money and his father the charisma. When they go to Buena Vista where there is no glittering society Jay sees that his mother Laura relaxes, and her slightly dishevelled appearance and distracted manner actually seem quite lovely. His father does not fit in in the least. Here, quite abruptly, Laura falls for a local man, a drifter who is currently head of a road gang, Winger Burns. Winger has 2 previous wives, and a son back in British Columbia and is clearly not someone interested in commitment, but Laura has fallen hard for the first time in her life. She sends her husband packing back to Michigan and he goes, after spending approximately a week in the fancy home they'd spent a year having built. The whole summer long Laura and Winger have a torrid affair, with Jay watching it all -- sometimes watching far more action than any normal 12-yr old boy would want to see of his mother, or any normal mother would display in front of her 12-yr old son, for that matter. Winger predictably leaves them in the lurch at the end of the summer, and Laura has a drunken binge and goes into a major depression. Finally they return to Michigan, where Laura is admitted to an asylum. OK, enough, the love affair was a big thing for her, we get it already. When she is released she goes home and life goes on in its detached way.

When Jay breaks from this sentimental nostalgia and returns to the present the book picks up. His wife Pat disapproves of his writing, wondering why he'd "want to air his dirty laundry in public". Pat also disapproves of his attachment to his mother, who lives nearby (though in this case I can't say I blame her). I enjoyed how the book was written. In one scene when Jay and Laura and their down-to-earth Buena Vista friends are having a picnic on the beach, the adult conversation breaks into dramatic dialogue. It only lasts about a page, but is very effective; you can see Glass' playwriting talents at that point. Another structural element I liked was a section in the present, in which two distinct scenes are titled Saturday Night with Pat and Jay and Sunday Morning with Pat and Jay. The main event of this section happens off-stage, if you will, we only read the lead-up and fall-out. It was an entertaining, successful construct.

Overall, Glass has a good narrative voice. Jay as an adult is wry and self-deprecating and his look back at his cherished summer is deeply felt. But I'm not sure I really believed Jay as a young boy. He didn't feel quite young enough or boyish enough. Despite his description of road crews, machismo, debauchery, the sexual fixations of adolescent boys, or of the relationships between fathers and sons, the voice still felt somewhat 'female' in a nebulous way I can't quite explain. I liked the book as a whole, although it did come across as very 70's in its focus.

Still, I'm glad I picked it up. Even if it is about a family of rich Americans, that summer in Alberta colours the lives of every character afterwards, both Jay's family and the Albertans they come in contact with. The descriptions of the natural beauty of Buena Vista and the very specific society which existed there in 1932 make Alberta into a character in itself. I wouldn't say I went into immediate raptures over this one, but it appealed enough to keep me reading it for a few days straight, and even a couple of weeks after finishing it, I'm still thinking about it.