Travels & Tidbits

I've been enjoying some time off from my day job, but it's been a bit of a busman's holiday. Of course. I did take some time to do some farmer's marketing, but then, we headed off to explore a nearby used bookshop, The Old Goat, in Waterloo. Did I find some treasures? You might say so. Here is what I found:

You will also notice a lovely new journal I received in the mail today from Canada Writes. Nice!

The most unexpected find was the Persephone paperback -- I've never seen any Persephone in a used bookstore yet, so I grabbed this one. And this particular title, Someone at a Distance by Dorothy Whipple, was one I've been really wanting to read!

*And just one more photo, this one of another bookstore trip -- this is a great staycation ;) We really scored on this trip, and I discovered a new bookshop, Attic Books, in London, Ontario. Good selection and great prices! Most of these books came from Attic, with a handful found at 3 other shops.

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Another interesting tidbit that has come to my attention...

The first title I recommended in my occasional "Revivals" series (my suggestions for republication) was Luella Creighton's High Bright Buggy Wheels. Now I have serendipitiously discovered that Oxford University Press Canada is going to be reissuing it! And despite that fact that there is no causal link between these two happenings, they've set the date of publication for my birthday...weird...;)

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I am still reading along in my own Postal Reading Challenge. I've been both writing more letters and noticing postal ephemera much more frequently as a result. Lately I saw this trunk in my local fabric store. Just the right size to store a blanket or two...or lots of stationery... I was particularly tickled by it since my sister was in Cairns, Australia very recently and sent me photos, as well as flyers and materials, from the Cairns Library (doing my busman's holiday duties for me).

I also came across this delightful new picture book at work last week, The Day the Crayons Quit. It looked charming, but imagine my surprise when I opened it and discovered that it is a marvellous, epistolary picture book! I snapped a couple of photos to give you the idea. This is one that I will be adding to my own collection, too. (see more images at Jeffers' website)

First page

RED -- each crayon gets a say & they
are all amusing & quirky

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So there you have a rambling take on what I've been up to recently. I promise that we will return to regular programming soon. But lately I have been so busy reading I have not been reviewing! Summer blahs, perhaps. I'm enjoying lazing in the sun with a book too much to remember to log on or blog on...

Revivals #3: Beast in View

Beast in View / Margaret Millar
Carrol & Graf, 2000, c1955.
158 p.

I haven't done a Revivals post in a while, but I've found a title that I must share. As far as I can tell, this book has fallen out of print in North America, though apparently you can still find it in the UK and Australia/New Zealand -- and these days, can order a UK edition in via Book Depository. In any case, I found my copy in one of the great resting places of out-of-print fiction -- the Goodwill.

I first discovered Margaret Millar last year, thanks to my husband, who is a reader of Ross Macdonald (otherwise known by his given name, Kenneth Millar, Margaret Millar's husband). We had one of her novels in our old shop stock (The Listening Walls) so I picked it up and read it. And became an instant fan of the much overlooked Margaret Millar. Beast in View won the Edgar Allan Poe Best Novel Award in 1956 and was named as one of the top 100 mystery novels by H.R.F. Keating in his 1987 compilation. I can see why, as it was innovative at the time, creating a plot structure that has been endlessly copied, almost to the point of saturation.

Margaret and Kenneth are both Canadians, originating from a place just down the road from me, in Kitchener, Ontario. There's a wonderful biography of Ross Macdonald that turns out to be really a biography of the two of them, by Tom Nolan. If you are interested in learning more detail about their troubled lives, you will love it.

Millar writes mysteries that often feature women, disaffected and lonely, paired up with laconic, generally ineffective men. The women are the clever ones, and are playing the system whether heroine or villainess. The plot of Beast in View, like that of The Listening Walls, depends on uncertainty, misdirection, and the unexpected. The main character, the painfully isolated and agoraphobic Helen Clarvoe, lives in a hotel, and not a very nice one either. She can't stand her mother, and so upon her father's death and her subsequent inheritance, left home. She has a younger brother Douglas who is completely and finally utterly ineffective at anything he tries to do. He is a lost soul; when we learn more, we discover he is a repressed homosexual, fighting his nature and society's expectations. This was written in 1955, and perhaps we sometimes forget how hard life was for gay men as well as for single women in those years -- both individuals who go against the grain of expectations and propriety. Reading this novel, you will understand just how difficult life is for these two, within the rather seedy circles they seem to run in.

As the story opens, Helen receives a threatening phone call, from someone she finally identifies as Evelyn, her brother's ex-wife. She and Evelyn had been schoolgirl friends, but after the wedding and subsequent annulment debacle they've not kept in touch. Now Helen is terrified that Evelyn is stalking her. Evelyn seems to delight in making malicious phone calls to share dark secrets, which result in more damage than even she could have expected.

The story moves between Helen's and Evelyn's viewpoints, allowing us to see inside both perspectives. We are also given the chance to see them from the outside, as a former friend of Helen's father takes on investigative duties at Helen's request. This, I think, is the one weakness of this book; he falls in love with Helen, suddenly and inexplicably. Perhaps his fathering instincts have been roused by her helplessness. Who knows... but it is not acknowledged or reciprocated, and he is still rather laconic and hard-boiled about it all, so it doesn't overwhelm the narrative.

In any case, the story unravels to reveal much seediness: a photography studio run by a man who turns out to be one of  Douglas' partners; a 'massage parlour' for lonely women, run by women; dark bars with phone booths from where Evelyn likes to make her threatening phone calls; control and insult from within Helen's family; extreme loneliness and despair and much more.

It's a slim novel but leaves a huge impression. Millar's writing is so good -- her use of imagery and metaphor is really unsurpassed in my experience of crime novels of this era. She gets at the interior life of her characters in a way that is clear-eyed and yet almost painful. There is no sentimentality in her writing, but she shows a sympathetic eye toward motivation and character, rather than a cold recounting of fact. And the final line of the book -- unforgettable.

I can't reveal much of the plot, or spoilers will be inevitable. I had no idea what this story was about when I began it, which is the only way to really feel the effect of the plotting. If you haven't heard of it, don't look it up for more information. Just find the book and read it for yourself.

I added this as a candidate for revival, as it is so well written while also shocking with its outdated representation of a few different factors, but particularly homosexuality. It wasn't that long ago that this was the norm, and this is an uncomfortable reminder. It's easy to take things for granted when you forget how hard prejudice was to overcome in the first place -- gay rights or feminist advances, both. I find that mystery novels in particular are able to catch the spirit of their era, the unspoken assumptions held by society. This one, while a bit melodramatic, does catch the feeling of a life defined by its surroundings. I thought it was a great read.

Revivals #2: Testament of my Childhood

Testament of my Childhood / Robert de Roquebrune
Toronto: U of T Press, 1964.
160 p.

My previous book review, of Elizabeth Savage's The Last Night at the Ritz, talked a bit about its being part of Nancy Pearl's Book Lust Rediscoveries series. When I reviewed the first novel in that series, I remarked on how this celebrity librarian was making such an impact with her initiative. And then I also mentioned how I was inspired by her idea to start my own blog series about books that I think should be back in print! I stated then that:

I'm calling it "Revivals" -- the primary difference being, of course, that I am not bringing books back into print, simply back into awareness! I find that many book bloggers do read and discuss out of print books, not limiting ourselves to only what is current...with these particular titles I'm going to take a page out of Nancy Pearl's book and also write a mini essay about WHY I think these out-of-print books might merit a re-examination.

So here is my second "back into print" suggestion. I was going to stick with fiction for my "Revivals", but this memoir is poetic and literary and feels like a suitable suggestion, both because of its inherent interest and because I love it! (also because there is some question about how much of this memoir was heavily embroidered...) I came across it through random chance many years ago, and was immediately taken with it. Perhaps it caught my attention because I was a recent arrival in Quebec, and found stories of French Canada compelling -- they had so much more of a past than my own province did! Or perhaps my combined interest in history and in literature, both of which I was then studying, found a perfect reflection in this book.

It's a story of a childhood in a Quebec manor house at the turn of the last century, approximately 1890-1905. The author is gently nostalgic, clearly fascinated with his family history and the speed at which life had changed between his childhood and his writing of this book. The opening is quite beautiful, and sets the tone for the rest of the narrative. Here is an excerpt of some of the lines that touched me in the opening pages:

Life as we lived it in those days doesn't exist any more. The break between then and now has been so complete, that even having known that era gives me the sensation of having lived on another planet.

Canada was quite a different sort of country then, with different customs and habits. When from the depths of my memory I recall those scenes from my childhood, I feel as if I were turning the leaves of some ancient manuscript which has been left lying in a drawer for half a century. The ink has faded, and the words are sometimes hard to decipher; whole passages remain unintelligible. But suddenly an entire page is lit up with such clarity, that what was almost obliterated takes shape once again, if only for a moment.... 

I am aware that many men and women have completely lost their childhood. Or at best they have retained a colourless, shadowy recollection of that period, and hardly ever think of it. Such a surrender of childhood memories is a sure sign of indifference to oneself, but then lots of people are not really very interested in themselves. They easily forget their own pasts and are frankly bored with their own persons. Their lives are a day-to-day affair, and they let the past die out completely, as if there were nothing about it which made it worth holding on to, and yet the life of any individual may have its moments of poetry and passion. Childhood in particular is full of such moments.

And the story is a very foreign one: it feels very distant in time, as if it occurs much earlier than the turn of the century. The way of life he describes is so particular, with its class values and church going and family expectations, that is seems impossible that it could have been so recent in time. The author worked as an archivist and was fascinated by the past, and it shows, in his meticulous descriptions both of his own experience and of all the wider Quebec history that is woven into the tale.

Roquebrune describes a certain kind of life that these French "aristocrats" held to, and found hard to release when they were faced with the changes of the 20th century. This book is so powerful because of the gap that he acknowledges in the opening pages, that leap made from nearly a feudal past into the modern age.

Also, the writing is quite fine, poetic and carrying the pace of slower days. It brought home to me how distant we all are from our forebears, and how quickly life has changed in our very young country. But it also provided a sense of French Canada that seems important for non-Quebecers to read. It is a love song to a past that no longer exists, and that perhaps never really did exist, being seen through such a haze of sentiment. But it was still a beautiful read, capturing those tiny elements that make for such a realistic picture -- their favourite food made by the cook, Sophronie. The random appearance of a black man at their door in a snowstorm (and the racial identities taken for granted). The misapprehensions of a small child in the face of adult happenings. The cast of characters in a small village, including the country healers and eccentrics. And finally, the pain of losing their country home and having to move to Montreal.

Roquebrune draws a picture of a lifestyle that is long gone; however, he does so in a romantic way, creating a history that competes with the very best myth-making that our American neighbours do so well. There's not a lot of that in Canadian history. This story provides a level of reverie, or reminiscence, that colours the past with an aura of mystery that appeals to the imagination. It's a saga of childhood with all its attendant discovery, and causes a reader to reflect upon their own memories and the sensations of their own childhood. The combination of facts and history with Roquebrune's more personal, impressionistic recollections makes this a fascinating book.

Revivals #1: High Bright Buggy Wheels

As I said in my previous post about Nancy Pearl's Book Lust Rediscoveries program, I find the idea of personal recommendations as to the value of out-of-print books very compelling. I love the idea that one enthusiastic person is able to revitalize older titles that she loves and bring them back into common circulation.

So, to leap on to the bandwagon, so to speak, I am launching a series of blog posts influenced by this idea. I'm calling it "Revivals" -- the primary difference being, of course, that I am not bringing books back into print, simply back into awareness! I find that many book bloggers do read and discuss out of print books, not limiting ourselves to only what is current...with these particular titles I'm going to take a page out of Nancy Pearl's book and also write a mini essay about WHY I think these out-of-print books might merit a re-examination. So I think it's fitting that the book that starts off my Revivals series also begins with a revival.

High Bright Buggy Wheels / Luella Creighton
Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, c1951.
352 p.

Small town Ontario, 1908 -- a summer camp-meeting revival is going on amidst the local Mennonite population. Tillie Shantz watches the preacher, Simon Goudie, call people to true faith, reflecting that such a godly man may be one she is interested in marrying. Yet after the crest of the religious fervour, she exits the tent into the night to find a young man from the nearby town of Kinsail (there for the entertainment) asking for directions back to where he left his buggy, having been turned around in the dark. He then offers her a ride and she hops into the light buggy and skims down to the end of the road and back. This is very much Not Done, and we are given a hint as to just how much Tillie differs from her peers, the theme that this story then elaborates on.

I first read this quite a few years ago now, and have just picked it up to reread before deciding to recommend it. It has some problems, of course: written in 1951, set in 1908, there are judgments and assumptions made that don't sit too well with modern sensibilities... but there is also drama and intrigue and friendship and love. Tillie and George, the young druggist who provides the joy ride at the beginning of the book, are very different kinds of people. But their youthful attraction changes the trajectory of both their lives.

Author Luella Creighton was a Scottish Canadian, married to a well-known historian. This book is a look at rural Ontario, specifically at a Mennonite settlement and how this group of people are and are not fitting in to Canadian society. This was an unusual book of its time, focusing on a story based in an ethnic minority (here German Mennonites) -- and there have been papers written about the elements of ethnic self-hatred propagated by both this book and another 50's novel that I've read and reviewed previously, Vera Lysenko's Yellow Boots (set within the Ukrainian community). The issue seems to be that the ethnic group is seen as backward, limiting, something to be transcended by becoming part of regular society. It's true that both of the young female characters in these two books have to leave their roots to find personal fulfillment. However, rather than seeing ethnic self-hatred, I identified with the struggle that these girls faced within a patriarchal setting to determine their own desires, and to find the strength to make a change. Nevertheless, they are delivered from their original difficulties by another man's intervention, so perhaps there is still room to grow in both of these stories.

However, I find this a fascinating read for its inclusion of the small details of Canadian life of that era, both Anglo-Canadian and Mennonite. It has its charms, with Tillie discovering a passion for horse racing, dancing, music and nature. She promises to marry Simon Goudie but then requests some time before the wedding to follow through on her desire to go to town and learn dressmaking, which her indulgent father permits. The joy she feels in learning this skill, which draws on her creative powers and allows an emerging independence, is the highlight of the book. Her pleasure in designing, in the tactile experience of fabrics, in the friendship she develops with her spinster employer and instructor, is bright and delightful. She discovers the fascination of the public library, reading a common penny novel with absolute absorption, allowing herself to forget chores, meals and expectations -- so much so that she is caught unawares by her strict aunt who, in horror for her soul, throws the book into the fire.

In reading this, I saw shades of L.M. Montgomery -- in Tillie's life with two strict aunts, with the focus on the bountiful domesticity of the Mennonite households, in Tillie's eventual delight in pretty clothes, the beauty of nature, and a cozy home. Tillie also shares Anne Shirley Blythe's sorrow as a young mother, and reacts in much the same fashion. I also sensed shades of Jane Eyre (and St. John Rivers), with Tillie giving up Simon when he announces to one and all that he has been called to be a missionary to Africa, expecting her to follow unquestioningly. She leaves her faith for "the world" after much internal struggle, and builds a life as part of mainstream Anglo-Canadian society.

While Creighton's depiction of Mennonite life has been questioned, as coming from the outside and without a deep understanding of the primacy of faith, I found her characterization of Tillie's struggle for understanding and self-actualization fascinating, and still relevant today, when considering the difficulties that many young adults have in moving away from their upbringing, whether religious or cultural, and finding a way of life that they have determined on for themselves.

George is also an interesting character; he is an up-and-coming businessman with lots of ideas for improving his store and making it more profitable, including adding an ice-cream parlour and a lakeside dance pavilion. He sees himself as one of the dashing class, with a horse and buggy and a prediliction for racing. He seems to be a disciple of Samuel Smiles, stating at one point:

The thing was to know what you wanted, and get after it. People didn't get what they thought they wanted, in this world, because they did not want it hard enough to believe they could. 

His focus on expansion and success doesn't include a wife at this point -- but Tillie's various charms overcome him and he decides it is worth it. After seeing the strength of Tillie's character and family ties, and the force of her internal struggle, George seems very much of a lightweight. I question whether he really deserves someone like Tillie... and whether her absolute change of life circumstances has been worth it if he is the reward. I dream of a life of independence and creativity for a fine woman of Tillie's qualities... but those books were yet to be written.

This is still a valuable look at an era in Canada's past, at the expectations and assumptions of a society bound in male and Anglo-Canadian norms. Even within this structure, I believe that Luella Creighton was able to present a variety of women all trying to find their place in the world. Sadly, the bubble of possibility that Tillie was floating in could only stay together so long, before she landed in the "happy ending" of the time, gaining a husband and a house to care for.