CanLit Challenge Book #36: Antoinette de Mirecourt by Rosanna Leprohon
Filed under: Book Reviews,CanLit Challenge — Ibis at 10:46 am on Sunday, April 18, 2010

Book 36, Antoinette de Mirecourt (1864) – Rosanna Leprohon
From the back cover:
“Originally published in English in 1864, yet acknowledged by French-Canada as a classic of its literature, Antoinette de Mirecourt occupies a singular position in the literature of Canada. This unique product of Quebec’s bilingualism and biculturalism tells an intriguing story of love and French-English social conflict in the years following the Conquest of 1760. Major and minor characters come alive against vividly drawn scenes of Montreal and its vicinity during that period. Sharp, witty dialogue and lyric descriptions of the city and its seasons are woven into a novel that possesses a depth and texture rare in the early literature of Canada.”

Other useful links:
the Wikipedia entry for Rosanna Leprohon

My thoughts:
I’d been looking forward to reading this for a long while. Until I started my CanLit Challenge, I’d never even heard of Rosanna Leprohon, though she was one of the most popular Canadian novelists of the nineteenth century and is still much admired in translation in Quebec. In fact, she is very well known for being one of the first Canadians to advocate a homegrown literature:

Although the literary treasures of ‘the old world’ are ever open to us, and our American neighbors should continue to inundate the country with reading-matter, intended to meet all wants and suit all tastes and sympathies, at prices which enable every one to partake of this never-failing and ever-varying feast; yet Canadians should not be discouraged from endeavoring to form and foster a literature of their own.

I was very keen to find out how she compared to other female novelists of the time with which I am much more familiar, such as Elizabeth Gaskell and George Eliot. I was also interested to see how much of a relationship I might see between Leprohon and those Canadian female contemporaries who were writing non-fiction, especially Susanna Moodie.

Funnily enough, when I read it, it seemed like Leprohon was rather a throwback to the century previous, the tone reminding me more of Emily Montague or Vicar of Wakefield than anything post-Austen. But perhaps that was some intentional anachronism since the story itself took place in the eighteenth century. Like a typical eighteenth century novel, this one was full of melodrama and secrets (though in this case the reader is in on it) and featured a pathetic, virtuous heroine in Antoinette. The other characters are also well-drawn (though it’s a little hard sometimes to figure out exactly why the villain is so cruel—other than mere sociopathy). I particularly enjoyed the distinctly Canadian touches (French/English tensions, wintery sleigh rides, and nice descriptions of the weather & seasons).

I’m very much looking forward to reading more from Ms. Leprohon.

CanLit Challenge Book #35: They Shall Inherit the Earth by Morley Callaghan
Filed under: CanLit Challenge — Ibis at 8:45 pm on Saturday, February 20, 2010

Book 35, They Shall Inherit the Earth (1934) – Morley Callaghan
From the back cover:
“This is the story of a father and his son, and a tragic accident that changed both of their lives. It is a story about fate and the terrible and permanent effects of a single decision made in a split second one summer day. It is a story about the lives people lived in Canada in the Thirties–lives marked by the earnest naivety, the financial desperation, and the wild gaiety of the times. Finally, it is a story about conscience–about the moment when one man discovered he could no longer escape the truth about himself. First published in 1934, They Shall Inherit the Earth led to Morley Callaghan’s reputation as a writer of international stature.”

Other useful links:
the Wikipedia entry for Morley Callaghan

My thoughts:
They Shall Inherit the Earth is a kind of Passion play: the protagonist, Michael Aikenhead, commits a sin, suffers, and is finally redeemed (not through God, religion, or political utopianism but through the love of a good woman). As an echo of this main plot, Michael’s father, Andrew, also has a similar experience (his redemption comes from reconciliation with his son which is set in motion by the aforementioned woman, Anna).

Much of the narration is really description of the inner thoughts and feelings of the characters (especially but not limited to those of Michael). However, Callaghan’s sparse style (Hemingway-like) and artificial dialogue creates a sense of distance between the reader and the characters.

The Shall Inherit the Earth presents us with a convincing snapshot of Depression-era northeastern North America (we’re invited to suppose this is Toronto, but it really could be any of the cities in the area). The oppressive weight of widespread un- and under-employment with its wandering, aimless men, impoverished and subjugated women, and the false hope promised by both religion and political ideologies fills the book.

I ended up liking this book in the end (probably because it ended on such an optimistic note), though I found it frustrating and slow at first. The only characters I really liked were Ross and Anna, but neither of them were developed all that much.

One scene that really blew my mind is one in which while Anna is giving birth, Michael is in the waiting room talking to a nun. Instead of asking her if she wants a priest and what religion she is, the nun asks him and when he says he doesn’t know, she gets permission from him to baptise her! Crazy! Talk about infantalization of women. When I told my mum about that part, she said, Now imagine what women had to fight through to get as far as they have. That stuff wasn’t in the law, it wasn’t like they could challenge a law and have it changed. That attitude was just accepted everywhere.

CanLit Challenge Book #34: Life in the Clearings Versus the Bush by Susanna Moodie
Filed under: CanLit Challenge,Infinite TBR — Ibis at 10:08 pm on Saturday, September 12, 2009

Book 34, Life in the Clearings Versus the Bush (1853) – Susanna Moodie
From the back cover:
“In Life in the Clearings versus the Bush (1853), the sequel to Roughing It in the Bush (1852), Susanna Moodie turns from examination of pioneer life in the bush to a portrayal of the relatively sophisticated society springing up in the clearings along Lake Ontario. During a trip from Belleville to Niagara Falls, Moodie acts as a meticulous observer of the social customs and practices of the times.

Invaluable as social history and as a candid self-portrait of a remarkable woman, Life in the Clearings versus the Bush chronicles, with wit and wisdom, Canadian society in the mid-nineteenth century.”

Other useful links:
the Wikipedia entry for Susanna Moodie

My thoughts:
First off, I have to say that I didn’t enjoy this book as much as Roughing It in the Bush. She spent far less time observing people, places, and customs and a lot more time talking about (the Christian) God. When she did describe life in Canada it was interesting as usual and some parts were fascinating (her observations of the “Lunatic Asylum” for example). There are a couple of essays that were interesting too, especially looking back on things from a century and a half later, like the one about wearing mourning. I don’t know if she would be happy or horrified to see how far those customs have been abandoned. I was particularly intrigued by the story of Grace Marks because I know that Margaret Atwood based her book Alias Grace upon this account. I have yet to read Margaret Atwood’s book, but I will do so soon while the memories are still fresh.

CanLit Challenge Book #33: The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz by Mordecai Richler
Filed under: CanLit Challenge — Ibis at 11:06 am on Sunday, May 24, 2009

Book 33, The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz (1959) – Mordecai Richler
From a publisher:
“The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz is the novel that established Mordecai Richler as one of the world’s best comic writers. Growing up in the heart of Montreal’s Jewish ghetto, Duddy Kravitz is obsessed with his grandfather’s saying, ‘A man without land is nothing.’ In his relentless pursuit of property and his drive to become a somebody, he will wheel and deal, he will swindle and forge, he will even try making movies. And in spite of the setbacks he suffers, the sacrifices he must make along the way, Duddy never loses faith that his dream is worth the price he must pay. This blistering satire traces the eventful coming-of-age of a cynical dreamer. Amoral, inventive, ruthless, and scheming, Duddy Kravitz is one of the most magnetic anti-heroes in literature, a man who learns the hard way that dreams are never exactly what they seem, even when they do come true.”

Other useful links:
the Wikipedia entry for Mordecai Richler
the Wikipedia entry for The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz

My thoughts:
I wish I had read this around the same time as I read St. Urbain’s Horseman because the memory of the figure of Duddy Kravitz from that book is a little fuzzy. A very interesting book with a misogynist, greedy protagonist that you can’t help but root for, even as he destroys everyone around him. In real life I’d be signing petitions against development of the lake and I’d think Duddy deserves to go to jail for something, he’s just so inconsiderate and immoral. And yet, and yet, he still has a kernel of conscience and sensitivity (although it may be completely egocentric). Not as full a book as Horseman, but excellent none the less.

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