Book 37, Armand Durand (1868) – Rosanna Leprohon
Paul Durand, a well-off farmer living in the fictional seigneurie of Alonville on the bank of the St. Lawrence, has two sons, each by a different wife (he is made a widower twice). They go off to school in Montreal where one flourishes and the other wishes to be back working outside on the farm. Sibling rivalry and a bad marriage play out against the backdrop of village and urban societies.

From the introduction:
“Obviously this novel demonstrated new interests on the part of the author. It appeared in a period of innovation. Novelists in Britain, America, and Europe were experimenting with problem novels. Mrs. Gaskell’s sombre novels were supplanting Dickens’ more humourous accounts of family and class relations–but even Dickens had turned from his early Pickwick style to the darker tones of Hard Times–a novel about industrial strikes, drunkenness, and family breakdown. In the 1860s Turgenev and Flaubert, Meredith and Melville were opening new avenues in their fiction. Mrs. Leprohon’s 1868 story reflects the changing concerns of contemporary novelists.”

Other useful links:
the Wikipedia entry for Rosanna Leprohon

My thoughts:
Armand Durand was quite distinct from Antoinette de Mirecourt. Where the latter novel had a rather tight plot contained within a relatively short period of time and with no extraneous subplots, this one is meandering, biographical, and takes place over the course of two generations. As well, Antoinette was more in the style of the previous century whereas Armand Durand has a stronger sense of realism. I quite liked this novel with all of its character studies set against the backdrop of Quebec society. Armand is likable, Delima is annoying, but not as annoying as Mrs. Martel. Armand’s marrying the wrong girl followed by the right girl after the first girl made him a widower reminded me a bit of David Copperfield, though Armand never loved his first wife and the reasons why Delima was unsuitable were far different. The only difficulty I had with the characters was with Paul fils. It seems so odd for him to suddenly turn so jealous of Armand so as to manipulate his dying father to cut Armand out of the will and to try to fix it so that their father would die without seeing Armand again. It’s such a cruel thing to do and there was no real reason for it (I mean it’s not like Paul senior favoured Armand and neglected his other son). Though interesting, the little subplot about Genevieve and de Chevandier was a little strange. It was like a setup for a further story that was later dropped. I couldn’t help but think that may have been due to the original serialisation—in fact this could be a cause of much of the unevenness of the novel.

From the publisher:
“Mary Barton, the daughter of disillusioned trade unionist, rejects her working-class lover Jem Wilson in the hope of marrying Henry Carson, the mill owner’s son, and making a better life for herself and her father. But when Henry is shot down in the street and Jem becomes the main suspect, Mary finds herself painfully torn between the two men. Through Mary’s dilemma, and the moving portrayal of her father, the embittered and courageous activist John Barton, Mary Barton (1848) powerfully dramatizes the class divides of the ‘hungry forties’ as personal tragedy. In its social and political setting, it looks towards Elizabeth Gaskell’s great novels of the industrial revolution, in particular North and South.”

My thoughts:
This novel was a bit of a mixed bag for me. I started reading it at a time when I was looking for something fairly light-hearted. The murder element didn’t deter me because from the description it didn’t appear that we would get too attached to Mr. Carson before his untimely demise. I was, however, quite surprised to find nearly the first third of the book to be depressing and distressing as characters we’ve come to care about dropped off like flies, and all for the simple want of food, shelter, and adequate medical care (which alas, is still with us today). After the dismal beginning, however, the story followed along the lines I had initially been expecting and I ended up enjoying it quite a bit.

As a social commentary, I imagine it would have come across like gangbusters at the time, with an empathetic understanding of working class life and how intimate with utter poverty it really is. You wouldn’t find this in Jane Austen or, I think (I haven’t read ‘em all) George Eliot. And though Dickens often covers the same territory, his mechanism is satire rather than strict realism.

And then just for pleasure, we get a bit of a sensation novel in the last half, though it’s not as sensational as, say, a Wilkie Collins or R. D. Blackmore—Gaskell’s penchant for realism comes into play there too. A good novel for fans of nineteenth century literature (especially if you’re looking for something shorter than the typical Collins or Dickens).

Book 26, World of Wonders (1975) – Robertson Davies
From the publisher:
“Hailed by the Washington Post Book World as “a modern classic,” Robertson Davies’s acclaimed Deptford Trilogy is a glittering, fantastical, cunningly contrived series of novels, around which a mysterious death is woven. World of Wonders—the third book in the series after The Manticore—follows the story of Magnus Eisengrim—the most illustrious magician of his age—who is spirited away from his home by a member of a traveling sideshow, the Wanless World of Wonders. After honing his skills and becoming better known, Magnus unfurls his life’s courageous and adventurous tale in this third and final volume of a spectacular, soaring work.”

Other useful links:
the Wikipedia article on World of Wonders
the Wikipedia article on the Deptford Trilogy
the Wikipedia article on Robertson Davies
the Wikipedia article on Robert-Houdin

My thoughts:
Again, I started this book with some misgivings. I’m one of those people who hate clowns and carnival sideshows and I was afraid that this book would be too much in a setting I couldn’t stand. Sigh. I ought to have known better by now & trusted Mr Davies not to disappoint. I loved this book too, and yes, I read it all in one sitting some months ago, and am only now getting around to blogging about it.

We’re presented with another framed story, first the old comfortable shoes of Dunstan Ramsay, then the autobiography of Magnus Eisengrim né Paul Dempster. We finally find out what happened to the third boy affected by that fateful stone in the snowball. Davies is such a great storyteller, you’re drawn in right away and he takes you on a trip through all the elements that made Dempster into Eisengrim but he doesn’t stop there. Like Nicholas Nickleby, World of Wonders is populated with a great cast of actors, and of course Liesl. Oh yeah, and what was it the Brazen Head said about the death of Boy Staunton? We find that out too…

Book 13, Arcadian Adventures with the Idle Rich (1914) – Stephen Leacock
From the back cover:
“First published in 1914, Arcadian Adventures with the Idle Rich swept the continent. Of the many books by Canada’s most celebrated humorist, none has received more acclaim than his brilliant, caustic treatment of the glittering rich who gather at the Mausoleum Club on Plutoria Avenue.

Today, Leacock’s pointed satire of the privileged class, and their social abuses and pretences, retains every ounce of its freshness and bite. An undisputed comic masterpiece, Arcadian Adventures with the Idle Rich reveals a depth of compassionate criticism rare in Leacock’s writings.”

Other useful links:
the Wikipedia article on Stephen Leacock
a biographical sketch on Stephen Leacock at the National Library of Canada’s website
recent article in The Winnipeg Free Press about the Leacock family

My thoughts:
Honestly, I was expecting this to be funnier than it was. I mean so much is made of Stephen Leacock and his humour, I was kind of expecting a Canadian P.G. Wodehouse or something. So in that sense it was a little disappointing.

However, there was plenty of really good satire that still rings true today. And there were many times when I did laugh out loud at the absurdities portrayed and the amusing way Leacock words things. It’s remarkable how little changes. What Leacock satirized in 1914 (following closely in the footsteps of Dickens) is the same kind of stuff pilloried by the likes of Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert, and Rick Mercer (sans topical current events–Leacock takes more of a timeless approach).

As I understand this is really a sister volume to Sunshine Sketches, I’m looking forward to reading that and getting a sense of the whole picture.

It would be difficult to give examples or describe it because just stating it outright takes all the humour out. Anyway, as with most good satire, it’s sad at the same time as it’s funny–because it’s so close to reality.