Hugh MacLennan (1907–1990)

10/10

I finished (re)reading this some time ago but am finding time only now, to comment.

I feel like a toddler just learning her first steps, daring to venture into the world when she's so unsure.

This is one of my touchstones, when I need someplace to go.

Montreal, in winter, grounds me in a way that is inexplicable. (But I daresay you'll have to suffer through several tortured paragraphs as I nonetheless try to explain!) : )

My soul was shaped one winter long ago, in a way that has carried show more me, given me strength, courage, resilience, all the days of my life. I pick up this book, and I'm walking again along Avenue du Parc, shivering my way through the breadth/breath of winter to Mont Royal, carrying all my troubles in "my old kit bag". It was one of the most brutal winters Montréal had known in some time -- or so it seemed to my young self -- and seems so, still, in my mind. And I didn't know til much later that it was the most transformative one I would ever live through.

That is the beginning and the end of MacLennan's Watch. It seems that nothing happens at all; that you are only walking through the snow, in an endless loop of repetition; that it is always cold and the trees are barren; that there is only frozen obstacle after frozen obstacle to surmount; and then you wake up one day, to know that you've lived the life you always dreamed you would.

At first, you don't recognize the shapes, and the colours: but let's face it, you were only an apprentice when you started painting, and how could you have imagined, really, that the colours would turn so vivid, the lines become so abstract? But there it is: the very first dots of paint that you laid on the canvas are now plastered across huge country landscapes. Every brush stroke is recognizable.

Such is George and Catherine's story. Such is my story. And I daresay the story of so many millions of others: sometimes, the road not taken is exactly the one you shouldn't have taken after all; and all the regrets that went with the "what ifs" amount to nothing, because you are exactly where you were always meant to be.

George finds out just in time. Catherine knew all along.

The backdrop for the novel -- the political idealism that (mis)shaped the 30s and 40s -- is only a faint and distant landscape, in my mind. Though many consider it the heart of the novel, it is only faintly sketched in to contain, and give shape, to the lifeblood that flows within the main characters; and which hangs like the sword of Damocles over the lives of all of them.

Many have seen this is an existential cri de coeur for-or-against 1930s socialism (depending on which side of the line you stand), but I would barely recognize it as such, because for me it is more deeply personal, and thus more universal than any "ism" could ever be.

It is, rather, the shape of lives lived, for those who wait and watch patiently, without ever knowing that they wait and watch.

It is the one book I return to, everytime I am caught in a proverbial waiting room ... in a time of waiting ... for it always proves to me there is a point in waiting patiently.

While the bigger allegory about Canada, and our place in it, plays a tattoo in the background, for me it is only that. ... only background noise, for the humanity question rings so much harder, and truer, than simply the citizenship question. show less

The essential novel for understanding the English-French dichotomy in Canada, albeit from a 1940s perspective. No mention of First Nations, non-English, or non-French Canadians and how they are part of Canadian culture, but this was written in the 1940s after all. The language is descriptive and beautiful, especially the first chapter, which may be the most evocative of any novel I've ever read. MacLennan takes a fair swipe at the stereotypical attidtudes of both the English and the French show more and how they see the same country in sometimes very different ways. The movement from decade to decade shows the gradual weakening of the Church, and it almost predicts the Quiet Revolution that grew in the years after the release of this story. The characters are quite believable, with the exception of Captain Yeardley. He's a very sympathetic character, but he's ultra-egalitarian, especially for the time period, and if he actually existed would have been quite an original man as far as his strong anti-prejudicial stance. It is clear that the main protagonist, Paul, is the author in Quebecois form, but he rings true as someone who has seen the world and can get past the ignorance of the 'other' that works against both English and French in Canada. show less

Warning: This review contains spoilers

****

Hugh MacLennan’s best-known (by reputation, if not by content) novel covers the first three decades of the twentieth century, from the First World War to the Second World War, and follows the lives of one French-Canadian and one English-Canadian family. The stories of the two families combine with Paul Tallard, son of a French father and an English mother, who must learn how to find a place for himself in a society that seems to be split in show more two.

Overall, this was not a terrible book. This sounds like faint praise for a book from one of my favourite authors (mainly on the strength of two of his other books, The Watch that Ends the Night and Barometer Rising), but I had a hard time rating this one. The story itself sweeps the reader right along, and it covers a lot of interesting historical ground.

However, to a 21st-century female reader, more than a few men don’t come off very well. Athanase Tallard causes his family huge upheavals without consulting them, Huntly McQueen is a symbol of Anglo dominance in French Canada, Marius Tallard is a whiny self-absorbed prick, and even Paul has a moment where he seems to be questioning whether marital rape is physically possible. (I’m still in shock about that. WHY did he have to ask that? He wasn’t doing it, he was wondering it about somebody else, but URGH.)

But it’s not just the men who are capable of being jerks. Janet Methuen absolutely infuriated me with her martyrdom and guilt-tripping of her daughter, Heather, who ends up marrying Paul. Janet doesn’t want Heather marrying him because he’s French, and also he doesn’t have a job. Never mind that it’s the Depression and work is hard to come by.

Of course, I could be disproportionately angry with Janet because her guilt-tripping reminded me SO MUCH of my own parents giving me a hard time when my boyfriend had a hard time finding a job after getting his master’s degree. He graduated at exactly the wrong time; the government had a hiring freeze, and the private companies that would normally have hired him were busy going bankrupt or getting creditor protection. So I could sympathize with Heather when Janet was giving her trouble.

Fortunately, John Yardley the sea captain was a bright spot in this book, as were the descriptions of Montreal, Lake Memphramagog, and Halifax. And I certainly don’t regret reading a Canadian classic. But I’d probably suggest that you read Barometer Rising or The Watch that Ends the Night first, if you haven’t tried MacLennan yet. show less

Cross-Country was published after Hugh MacLennan's first three novels had won him great acclaim (Two Solitudes and The Precipice winning him his first and second Governor General's Awards). It's a collection of essays that touch on themes he discusses in his novels: about half the collection discusses the idea of the Canadian identity and his country's place in the world, especially in relation to the United States.

Even without having read (yet) MacLennan's GG-Award-winning novels, I found a show more lot to like about this collection. His writing is very smooth and elegant, and not without a touch of wit. (From his essay on the 1948 Republican convention: "A speech by Governor Duff followed and it might have been interesting if the speaker himself had been interested in what he was saying.") He readily admits when his observations are drawn merely from personal experience, especially in the title essay, which discusses his impressions of the United States from a road trip he and his wife, Dorothy, took to California one winter. And while he does prefer Canada, he is prepared to point out its weak points and where other countries do better; for example, he discusses the "brain drain", especially in the teaching profession at that time, with talented young Canadians fleeing to the States because they are not being given reasons to stay (other than the powers that be saying it's their "duty" -- as MacLennan says, "What do they think Canada is, a mission-field?").

The great thing about this collection, or potentially a point of despair, is that so much of what MacLennan says still resonates today. In his essay "On Discovering Who We Are", he compares Canada and the US in terms of entertainment, noting that many Canadians are tuned in to the World Series and that plenty of US magazines are available in Canadian convenience stores. He asks, how many Americans would be glued to the Canadian universities' football championship? How many US convenience stores would stock magazines such as Maclean's and Chatelaine? The debate continues today on Canadian content quotas and regulations, as well as the extent of American influence on Canadian culture. He also talks about the difficulties of selling Canada as a nation containing things other than Mounties, trappers and husky dogs.

I also liked his essays about his childhood, notably Christmases 1916 and 1917, both of which featured explosions. The 1917 event was the famous Halifax Explosion, also chronicled to great effect in Barometer Rising, while the 1916 event was his family's "own private explosion", caused by gas that had leaked from the city mains into the basement, and his father apparently went down with a lighted match to investigate. (His father subsequently denied this, because the news coverage that said as much made him look kind of stupid; embarrassing for a distinguished doctor.)

If you have read and enjoyed any of MacLennan's work, you will probably like these essays. One thing I should point out is that the first essay in particular is very much a "white guy in the late 1940s" sort of perspective; he compares Canada to a "good wife" and when discussing the founding of Canada he focuses more on the English, French and Scots (the First Nations don't get much of a look-in). But it's not written that way to be mean-spirited; it's just his worldview at that time and did not detract much from my enjoyment of the work. Indeed, I found occasion to quote one of his essays in a conversation with my grandparents, and they were suitably impressed. MacLennan is well worth reading and savouring if you're interested in the Canadian perspective from the mid-20th century. show less