And now to the other coast...

I was starting to feel like all I was reading were East Coast novels! I have been enjoying them very much (well some of them), but I am glad that the last two Canada Reads books are both B.C. authors. First up, Wayson Choy's Jade Peony.

Atlantic Canadian fiction definitely has some similar themes across the various novels I read: Allistair MacLeod, Michael Crummey and Anne-Marie MacDonald all wrote about family history, with plenty of mythology and folklore thrown in. Wayson Choy, in many ways, is the Vancouver version of these writers. Jade Peony tells the story of a Chinese-Canadian family during the 1930s and 1940s residing in Vancouver's Chinatown. The story is divided into three parts, each from the view point of one of the families children.

The first part, my favorite, tells the story of Jook-Liang. She is the only daughter and has to balance between her responsibilities as a girl in a traditional household and her love of Western culture (mostly, Shirley Temple). She befriends Wong Bak, a deformed elder and an unlikely and touching friendship blooms.

The second story is of the second brother Jung-Sum. He was adopted from another Chinese family when he was younger, although still has memories of his traumatic time with his biological family. Jung-Sum embraces the world of boxing, finding community at the gym.

The final story emerges as the Second World War approaches and the Chinese community begins to attempt to distance itself from the vilified Japanese. The world outside of the tight-knit Chinatown plays a much larger role in third brother Sekky's story. Sekky's world is divided between his attempts to overcome the illness he was plagued with early in life and his love of war games.

The folklore is brought into the novel through Poh-Poh, the children's elderly grandmother, who brings many Chinese traditions to their Canadian home. She firmly holds at least part of the household in the 'old' world, while the children try to find their way into the 'new.'

Wayson Choy is a lovely writer and I enjoyed reading Jade Peony. A very nice introduction to the West Coast. It is a tough race between Jade Peony and Nikolski for my Canada Reads vote.

- Katy

Galore

While I waited for the next Canada Reads book to arrive at my local TPL branch, I decided to pick up one of the books I was given for Christmas. Michael Crummey's Galore is my first repeat author of the challenge. I heard him read from the book at 2009's International Festival of Authors and was sufficiently intrigued to add it to my wish list.

Galore, set in the small Atlantic community of Paradise Deep, is a family saga spanning nearly two centuries. Crummey begins with a quote from Gabriel Garcia Marquez ("The invincible power that has moved the world is unrequited, not happy, love") and it is evident he draws much inspiration from the South American author. Galore, right from the very first scene when Judah emerges alive from the belly of the whale, is rife with magical realism. Even the inclusion of the family trees at the beginning of the novel reminds us that 100 Years of Solitude, Garcia Marquez's brilliant family epic, should remain in the back of our minds as we read.

The story continues as the fates of two families- the Devines and the Sellers- interact, move apart and ultimately shape the community in which they live. There are far too many characters to detail them all here, but some stood out as favorites (or at least the most compelling, if not likable): Devine's Widow, the witch-like matriarch of the Devine family she embodies the 'old' way of the East Coast through herbal medicines, folklore and one helluva free spirit; Judah Devine, the naked, mute who emerged from the whale becomes an integral part of the Devine mythology as he moves into the world of spiritual sacrifice in part 2 of the novel; and Bride, the spunky wife of Henley Sellers who makes her appearance in the novel asking the newly arrived doctor to pull out all her teeth.

Like River Thieves (my first Michael Crummey novel), Galore has a good plot carried by strong characters. It combines the everyday with a good dose of folklore to keep it interesting. I would argue that Galore is better written than River Thieves as it has a better pace. Does it live up to the Gabriel Garcia Marquez novels that it invokes? No, but really what does? The two parts of the novel felt a bit disconnected, as though Crummey couldn't quite find a way to connect the entire story, so just broke it in two. That's about the only bad thing I have to say- I really enjoyed the novel and was glad I had decided to double-up on Michael Crummey.

- Katy

The Wars

Unlike a large amount of Canadian teenagers, I somehow missed out on reading Timothy Findley in school. Yet, somehow I still closely associate him with the Canadian high school experience. In reading The Wars, Findley's novel of World War 1, I felt transported back to grade 11, unfortunately not in a particularly good way.

Robert Ross, a nineteen-year-old Ontario boy, shortly after the death of his beloved sister, signs up for war. This sends his family into a bit of a tail spin, adding a side plot to the story. The novel follows Robert through training as an officer, to France and his days in the trenches. Robert ultimately suffers from, what is now known to be, post-traumatic stress disorder and rebels against the institution of war in one desperate act to save the lives of horses.

The story is told from an interesting point of view. Someone is researching Robert's story and letting us in on what he discovers. As an archivist, I am always happy to see one pop up in a novel, so having the researching angle would normally entice me. But in this novel it feels too undeveloped, like the story of Robert's family, Findley does not spend time showing us their world, but only uses them as a convenient mechanism for the development of Robert's plot. It leaves their bits feeling forced and unimportant, taking away from rather than adding to the novel.

Overall, the book reads like something out of those old school readers. Some great examples of literary technique for a grey haired high school teacher to lecture for what-feels-like-hours about while his students pass notes and nap.

-Katy

Non-Canadian Can Lit

For the first time in this challenge I have read a book which is difficult to fit into the Canadian canon. That isn't saying that Rohinton Mistry's A Fine Balance isn't good, it's great in fact, just that it doesn't take place in Canada, never mentions Canada and generally doesn't feel Canadian (whatever that means). That being said I am glad Rohinton Mistry, born in Bombay but a resident of Canada since 1975, is part of the Canadian literary scene. His novel provides depth to many of the themes that have already appeared in this blog, particularly to themes of family and history/memory.

A Fine Balance tells the story of four individuals whose lives are brought together under the roof of one apartment. Dina, a widowed woman who runs a small sewing company; Ishvar and his orphaned nephew Om, Dina's employees; and Maneck, the son of one of Dina's childhood friends who has come to the big city for university. The novel is epic, not just because of its 700 page length, but because of its abilities to tell the beautiful and tragic story of the four characters against the backdrop of a nation (India) going through enormous changes. The novel touches on numerous themes, but for me the most poignant was Mistry's ability to re-define definitions of family, even in unusual and often difficult surroundings.

In turned out that the length was not an obstacle at all (I have a phobia of long books). The story and writing style flowed and the next thing I knew I was hundreds of pages in. The biggest hurdle was that anytime I mentioned to someone that I was reading A Fine Balance, I heard about how sad the novel was. I grew a bit worried- how depressing would this be? And it was sad, tragic even. Just as long as you don't mind getting a little teary eyed on the TTC, this book is a must read.

-Katy

I think I have read this somewhere before...

The epistolary novel is one that is written in the form of a series of documents. Mme Proust and the Kosher Kitchen (see last entry) had some element of this in the diaries of Jeanne Proust. Clara Callan by Richard Wright is entirely told in this form. Primarily the diaries of the title character; Clara is a school teacher living in rural Ontario, in the same house she grew up in. It is also told through letters, between her and her sister, her and her occasional lover and a few others thrown in. Clara's sister Nora lives in New York and is a radio soap opera store.

The story is very familiar: younger more rebellious sister leaves rural Canada to pursue dreams in New York; older more sensible sister stays behind. The plot outline is copy and pasted from Student of the Weather by Elizabeth Hay. After this brief sketch is where the similarities end (thankfully). I feel like Richard Wright read my post on Student of the Weather and fixed everything I had complained about! The novel focuses on Clara and her struggle with small town life and finding her place in the world. Through the letters and diaries, Wright paints a picture of rural Ontario, big city New York and the family connections that surpass geography and time. The story is set in the 1930s, and the novel is also an exploration of the rising issues of the times (communism, fascism, loosening morals).

The only complaint that I have is the weak ending. I won't ruin it, but I didn't think it was necessary to go that far into the future. I appreciated the attempt to provide the reader with insight into why we were granted access to the private life of Clara, but I didn't need that. I was satisfied with peaking through the window, without Wright opening the door.

A lovely novel, definitely on my top list (so far anyway).

-Katy

Mme Proust and the Kosher Kitchen

When Kate Taylor's Mme Proust and the Kosher Kitchen was released it got some harsh reviews for being less than historically accurate. The story, which partly takes the shape of the diaries of Marcel Proust's mother, is an historical fiction. But Taylor uses dates, names, places and events a bit more loosely than authors typically do and she does so unabashedly. Being a former history student, I was a bit concerned by this notion; yet, I quickly forgot all about it. The story is engaging, the plot she weaves does not make dates pivotal.

Beyond Mme Proust, the story involves two other females: Marie Prevost, who is in the process of translating the Proust diary (and providing us her access to the diaries) and Sarah Bensimon, a French Jewish refugee who was sent to live in Canada during the WWII. These three lives unfold over decades. They are most often stories of the everyday, un-life changing events. But they are compelling stories and the writing style of Taylor makes for an enjoyable read. Some exploration of numerous (maybe a bit too many) themes: family, self-satisfaction, bilingualism, belonging, food, Jewish identity, and a few others.

At times I felt as though there was enough in all three stories to make more than one novel, but probably not enough for three. I wanted more out of each one, they were all intriguing!

Not my favorite novel, and I was secretly hoping there would be more about food (kitchen IS in the title), but still well worth the read.

-Katy

A Student of the Weather

I might as well admit this right off the top- I didn't like this novel. Not that Elizabeth Hay isn't a good writer, she has crafted some nice pieces of prose, written some well-rounded, relatable characters; it just wasn't my cup of tea.

I like to meander my way through novels, discover connections on my own, feel proud of myself for getting a reference to another book or another point in this story. She makes it too easy, points out all those connections. For example, in one scene Norma Joyce, the novels heroine, discovers some lost art of her mother's and she affixes it to her wall, with a growing collection of things. This addition leads to the observation "it occurred to her that, again, she was reconstructing her childhood corner." I felt like the author was tapping me on the shoulder saying "hey, hey, don't you get it, she is reverting to her childhood home." But I had got it, I had already made the connection. And as often as I felt her doing this, spoiling my fun, I felt as though she was writing for the lowest common denominator.

The story itself is a good idea- a small family (2 daughters and a father) find their way from growing up in small town Saskatchewan to living in Ottawa, venturing to New York, through lovers, children, friends, jobs, etc. Naturally, one daughter is more favoured, the older, prettier, more responsible Lucinda. Norma Joyce, the younger, wilder sister, falls in love with Maurice who visits Saskatchewan from Ottawa. The trouble is, Maurice is in love with Lucinda (and Lucinda with Maurice). As the story unfolds, things fall apart between Maurice and Lucinda, largely because of some undelivered letters by a jealous Norma Joyce. The family moves from Saskatchewan to Ottawa and Norma Joyce continues her obsession. She actually continues this obsession throughout the novel. A plot point I got a bit weary of. She never seems to learn her lesson. Her and Maurice do have an affair, she has his child, but is still rejected by him time and time again. But she persists.

Truthfully, I was more intrigued by the character of Lucinda. After losing her love to her younger sister, she moves on (sort of), develops a business, remains responsible for her father. Her story is tragic and compelling. I could sympathize with her, whereas my sympathy with Norma Joyce waned fairly quickly.

So, all in all, unfortunately my first disappointing read. Not a bad novel, just not my thing.

I have also read Dracula, which I was trying to think of ways to make count as a Canadian novel. No such luck, although I did hear that one of his (great?) grandsons IS Canadian and has written some sort of sequel to Dracula- might be a bit of a stretch though.