I must admit, I’m embarrassingly late to jump on the Rosie Thomas train. I consider myself an avid reader, yet I hadn’t even heard of this author until I was handed a free copy of her novel at Book Expo Canada this past June. Much to my surprise, Iris and Ruby is Thomas’ eighteenth book published in a career spanning 27 years. Although it was handed to me on the fly, I only had to read the first page to get completely enveloped and committed to this heartwarming story.

Iris is an 82-year-old woman, independent and strong-willed, desperately clinging to the memories of her long departed true love and Ruby is her equally headstrong estranged teenaged granddaughter who shows up unexpectantly on her doorstop in Cairo, Egypt, one hot summer morning. The obvious disruption quickly becomes endearing as Ruby offers to listen to Iris’ life story in an effort to preserve the memories that are fading away daily with age. We hear romantic and turbulent tales of Cairo during the Second World War contrasted with Ruby’s adventures coming of age in the present day. The reader is privy to the intimate narratives of three generations of women and the bonds that are formed as their stories of life, love, loss are revealed.

This was a great summer read and had me enthralled until the last word. I was pleasantly surprised by the unique and expertly interwoven narrative and depth of the characters. It is the perfect mix of romantic and realistic, bitter and sweet, travel and home, young and aged, and I would recommend it to anyone who enjoys such a blend in their reading. Although I am late to jump on the Rosie Thomas train, luckily with books you can never miss the train, and I am very excited for her newest novel being published this fall, entitled Constance, as well as delving into her extensive backlist of bestsellers.

Set in a small town on the Saskatchewan-Alberta border, Baker breathes life into its dusty farmlands and passion into an ordinary German community with layers upon layers of meaning — a pleasant surprise from a first-time novelist.

The Horseman’s Graves tells the story of Lathias, a half-breed farmhand, only a boy himself, who becomes the self-appointed guardian and protector of the Schoff’s only boy following a terrible farm accident that scarred him both physically and mentally. This is as complicated as their lives get until Leo, a historic a target of the town’s hatred and scorn, rolls into town with a new wife and fiery red-haired daughter, who will change their lives forever.

Pitting her characters against juxtaposing themes of good and evil, old and new, passion and fear, religion and superstition, Baker provides a vivid and enticing picture of the complexities of prairie living unknown to those who have never experienced it. It’s all about the shades of grey that lie between these oppositions and the reader is placed in a curious state as a result: the story thrilling, yet slow; the characters complex, yet plain; the message clear, yet dark.

Although expertly told, The Horseman’s Graves is not about stories and traditions passed throughout the generations, or the verifiable truth or fiction behind them, but rather the way they can float in that grey area between until it no longer matters what they are, but rather who is behind them and what they say about us. In Baker’s own words, this novel is “[a]bout Ghosts. And about blood. About trying to get at both of them. And about our inability to do so.”

I would recommend this book to anyone with an interest in Canadian literature, myth, and storytelling, and an appreciation for mysterious shades of grey.

Responsibility and Consequences

“I will not desert you! I will protect you by every means in my power, dearest love, whatever you may have done or not have done!” (p.386)

Oh Mr. Hardy, must the female protagonist always die?

In the case of Tess of the D’Urbervilles, the answer is a yes. But not before struggling for her life, falling in love, being rejected by her family… A weaker hearted woman would have shrunk with fear and long ago given up on hoping the gods would stop playing sport with her life. Was it not in King Lear that Gloucester stated, “As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods,-They kill us for their sport.” (act IV) Tess is alone in a world of cruel and malicious characters.

There appears to be very little goodness in old Wessex County. Tess herself comes from a family headed by a constantly drunk pater familias. Sent off to claim kin, Tess is thrown into a situation she is little prepared for. It is from this seemingly harmless errand, that begins the ball rolling and the downfall of poor Tess. In true Hardy style, we are then treated to a whole wad of social, political, religious, and moral critiques. Addressing everything from women’s moral worth, to the effect of urban industrialism on the agrarian life, Thomas Hardy created a novel that sent his readers into a frenzy over its sensational plot and characters. Within the first 100 pages, Tess is raped by her “kin” Alec. And it is from this rape that many parallels can be drawn. The rape of Tess is similar to the rape of the countryside. The destruction of all that is good, pure, and natural must occur so that modernity and urbanism can grown and spread. The violation of a beautiful young girl, mimics the ruin of the rural land.

Matters are made more complicated when Angel Clare is thrown into the mix. Working at the idyllic dairy, a setting of calm, undisturbed stability, Tess meets and at first resists falling in love with Angel. Angel is a man who rejects formal industry and blind religious belief. He understands things about Tess that she herself does not understand. Angel is the most “modern” thinker of the novel. Yet, his reaction to the truth about Tess and the rape and the resulting child is anything but modern. Angel cannot accept Tess’s confession, he cannot accept the real, true Tess. The ideal he built of her is broken.

Pagan versus Christian rituals, fleeting faith, salvation and baptism, parental influence over children…these are just some of the many themes and critiques found in Tess of the D’Urbervilles. It is a difficult book to read in that Tess is always being forced into the role of the sinner or victim. She can never just be herself. Everyone around her is constantly judging. But it is a necessary and worthwhile read, because it is important to meet characters like Angel, Tess, and Alec. It just happens that in Hardy’s Wessex county that the non-believers, victims, and hypocrites all fall together. In the end Angel comes back, and they are re-united, all the truth exposed, they understand each other and love each other for who they really are. But the ending cannot be a happy one. On the rocks of Stonehenge, Tess realizes she must pay for her sins. Tess of the D’Urbervilles is sacrificed in the end. But really, we all knew that was going to be her fate from page one right?

Wasting Candles

"Thus, in the midst of the mud and at the heart of the fog, sits the Lord High Chancellor in his High Court of Chancery." (p.18)

Those with a penchant for reading about the dark underbelly of Victorian London need go no farther than Charles Dickens Bleak House. Bleak House is a political, romantic, moralistic novel, filled with criticisms, witticisms, and deeply affecting language. The size of the novel is impressive, one can only feel a sense of accomplishment upon finishing this tome. It is a novel held together by many threads that connect characters and situations that in the end become united. Awash in motifs, allegory, and metaphors, Dickens uses two narrative voices to move the stories along. Esther the self-deprecating female protagonist tells her own story by telling the lives of others. She reveals things about herself in the way she talks about the people around her. The second narrator is one who is impersonal, he does not illustrate the past or future, he describes only the present. Dickens includes strong critiques about the experience of the s women and their ability to express honest emotions; the relation between the law and private life; public institutions who undermine human generosity.

The heart of this story lies with the Chancery suit of Jarndyce v Jarndyce. The Court of Chancery is the central symbol/setting of Bleak House, a blind, abusive, and inefficient institution that survives simply because of its parasitic bureaucracy. The court is a place overrun in paper, legalities, and procedure. Chancery is a place that ruins lives. Parallels can then be drawn from this setting to that of the London slum – Tom All Alone’s – the second most important setting. Chaotic, disorderly, mired in filth, Tom All Alone’s is a disease infested place, located on the fringes of the working class, and inhabited by socially marginal characters, such as Jo the poor crossing-sweeper. Chancery is responsible for the state of this slum. And a society that leaves its slums unattended will most likely be dragged into the filth itself.

There are endless connections that can be drawn in this novel. The characters come fast and furious. Each one with a name that matches their personality (Lady Dedlock, Mr. Voles, Tulkinghorn etc.) Walking metaphors can be found on every page. Bleak House has tragedy, farce, murder, mystery, and even spontaneous combustion. Many moral lessons abound, and of course there is love. Death is a frequent visitor, yet in the end there is birth, renewal, understanding, and hope that maybe change, real positive change can occur to help the less fortunate.

"Wonderful music like this was the worst hurt there could be.  The whole world was this symphony, and there was not enough of her to listen." (p.143)

The Heart is a Lonely Hunter is a book about people.  It is a book filled with characters that captivate and enchants the reader from the first page until the last. McCullers characters collide like different instrumental parts that unite to create a beautiful symphony.  From Dr. Copeland who desperately labours for his children and the betterment of his race to Mick Kelly, the gangly androgynous girl who feels, sees, and breathes music; we meet people who are raw and lonely.  Set in 30′s era America, a place where racism divides and poverty kills and newspaper headlines scream about war in Europe  and places far, far away, it is a world where human frailty is examined closely.

Throughout the book a constant feeling of impending doom – a sense of foreboding permeates the words on the page that create the atmosphere the characters live in.  Some characters live life as if they were dancing on the edge of a precipice, others simply stand back and watch life pass them by in helpless suspension.  And as we move through the book, there is no one simple climax.  Rather, there are a series of smaller ones that involve each character that we follow.  We see the good mixed with the bad, albeit the darkness does seem to weigh more heavily throughout this world.  Some people seem to strive endlessly for more knowledge and more truth; they aren’t satisfied with what they are supposed to be.  There are drifters and mutes, confused husbands, and wide-eyed dreamers.  Disillusionment shatters hopes (Mr. Singer and Mick) and settling into a safe way of life silences the music.  The writing is so accessible that the music that swells and quiets in Mick Kelly’s ears is audible in my own.  Carson McCullers words are so simple and straightforward yet they are like music, a sweet sad melody that lingers in your mind even after you have stopped reading.