Does This Church Make Me Look Fat? by Rhoda Janzen

Does This Church Make Me Look Fat?  Amazing book, guys! I loved it. Rhoda Janzen gets the spiritual experience and is a perfect bystander ( with reams of intelligence) to walk us through her rather jolting jump from her Mennonite background to a Pentecostal church she attends with her boyfriend/fiancé/husband.

Janzen, a prolific poet and scholar, brings to the church experience years of figuratively and literally engaging with the tenets ( mythologized and metaphoralized and categorized) of theology.  She weaves her new experiences and her new zeal for engaging in the spirituality of her childhood with anecdotes of her brilliant new relationship (her partner Mitch, the reformed alcoholic-turned-Pentecostal is a GEM with a brilliantly coloured faith and lovely conversion story and respect for the church and the patrons therein), her days as a professor, her attendance at Pentecostal services and her tragic diagnosis of breast cancer: fought hard with and eventually won in a near miraculous way.

You can take the girl outta the Pentecostal, it would seem, but you can’t take the Pentecostal outta the girl.  I was raised in a Pentecostal church. My father was a Pentecostal minister. I knew about speaking in tongues and Acts II before I knew my ABCs.  While I don’t identify with this denomination any more or attend a Pentecostal church ,it is as much a part of my being as my school grades, Christmas memories, and ability to ride a bike.  I KNOW Pentecostal.  While Janzen’s views and observations might offend those who are touchy on the subject and too quick to judge interested and intelligent observance as mockery; I quite enjoyed what the Pentecostal world looked like for an outsider. Especially for an outsider with a strict Mennonite background. This, my friends, was my favourite part of this surprisingly uplifting and very, very sardonic and quick-witted piece.  Think Anne Lamott. Are we good here? We love Anne Lamott. How about Anne Lamott with a dash of Lisa Samson? Are we good?

A few quotes to entice readership:

“Most of the hymns were familiar to me, but the services also featured some long, tuneless pieces of chanted music that sounded suspiciously as if somebody had made them up in the car on the way to church”  (Dear Rhoda Janzen, I have said this about every Chris Tomlin song ever written)

“Mennonites are known for their gorgeous acapella hymns. For instance, they might take a Protestant staple, such as Thomas Ken’s beautiful 1674 “Praise God from Whom All Blessings Flow” and jack it up like a doxology on steroids.  My Mennonite church sang a highly embellished, tightly harmonized version to the tune of Samuel Stanley’s “Dedication Anthem”” so rousing it made you want to throw confetti (Hey! Somebody should tell the Pentecostals about confetti!”

As someone passionate about the emergence of Jesus is My Boyfriend songs in the evangelical worship culture as a replacement for the beautiful melodies, settings and poetries of a history of hymns, I revelled and delighted in the fact that an academic outsider, seeping with intelligence and well-crafted thought for the beauty of music and words, could reduce some of the choruses and worship songs to near hilarity with her comparison of them to better written and more timely pieces.

Obviously, the Pentecostals eventually begin speaking in tongues and Janzen’s literary recreation of the experience is poetical and rapt with energized imagery: “Syllables rolled around me like pearls from a broken spring, scattering beyond sense. I had never heard anyone speak in tongues. I had always assumed that glossolalia was an expression of unfiltered inner gibberish. But in that moment I wondered if it couldn’t be both gibberish and praise language- an edifying wall of sound that lifted the worshipper to a place beyond understanding. Even if those gorgeous waves of foreign syllables had come rolling out of my own mouth, I still would have tried to understand the experience as a foreign language.”

She is continually impressed by Mitch, who practices what he preaches: “She observed, moreover, that the kindness and the faith did not exist in his character as independent qualities. Rather, the first was clearly activated by the second.”  Gosh darnit, isn’t that what everyone strives for?

She is a tad confused when it comes to filling out a Cosmopolitan-type quiz on assessing and ascertaining her spiritual gifts: “My Pentecostals were an old-fashioned group. They called the women ladies, they believed that the men needed to step up to the plate in the spiritual leadership of the home. If they were to assign a man the gift of flower arranging, there would have to be a literal biblical precedent.”

Coupling her obvious recollection of the Biblical stories and Faith background of her Youth, Janzen is able to apply her rudimentary understanding with her current circumstance.  The following quote left me all a-shudder in its exquisite truth (here, she recalls the parable of Jesus healing a boy possessed by demons at a father’s entreaty that even though he wasn’t sure he believed, he wanted to be taught how to believe): “For me the takeaway is that we don’t need to be strong and faithful and firm in order to approach God.  We can be an unholy mess, like the son, or a frustrated skeptic, like the dad. What a relief that we don’t have to be good at religious in order to seek God! We don’t even have to have a strong sense of belief. All we need is the desire to believe”

I could saturate this with quotes forever, so exceptionally crafted and memorable is this work; rather ( as my Pentecostal father would say when winding down a sermon) IN CLOSING…

Janzen doesn’t make peace with her questions. Nor does she decide that her spiritual life is grounded and founded upon the principles expelled in her evangelical wanderings. She does, however, uphold a fascinating sense of faith, hope and integrity. She searches and seeks and ultimately finds that while we could spend the rest of our lives literally fighting over every small thing in scripture: from the existence of Lilith and dinosaurs to whether or not Hell and Heaven are concrete or metaphorical places ( Rob Bell! Rob Bell, let’s talk about Rob Bell); she takes baby steps. She learns what it means to be open and to accept and to listen for the will of God.  That, readers, is what makes this book heart-warming and inspiring: not how far she comes in the pinnacle of spiritual sojourning; but the fact that she sojourned at all.

My thanks to Grand Central Publishing for the Netgalley review copy.

Special thanks to my sister Fruity (find her on twitter @leah_mcmillan )for pointing me in the direction of this book.

The Hangman in the Mirror by Kate Cayley

Years ago, I read Keturah and Lord Death and couldn't shake it from my head.   A heroine who falls in love with Death and a historical setting at once enigmatic and refined.  I loved the voice of the novel, the narrative scope and the saucy way of inching out mysterious details with aplomb. Martine Leavitt had me from page one.

It’s been a long while since I read a Teen novel that packed as much of a punch as Keturah. That is until I was checking around Netgalley for something to read and stumbled upon The Hangman in the Mirror by Torontonian Kate Cayley.  Honestly, I had never heard of this title before and the cover left a lot to be desired; but the setting (1750s New France) immediately captured my eye.  As did the small kernel at the back of my brain that brought the synopsis to remembered forefront.  You see, Cayley scripted a novel based on a plot that inspired a popular poem by Margaret Atwood.

With this delicious synopsis, I set in and finished the book which I started over lunch break, last night in the warmth of my apartment while the fog settled outside.

Readers, I LOVED this book. I loved the atmospheric feel and tangible scents of the Montreal streets. I loved Francoise, our narrator, the daughter of a drunken washerwoman and her retired soldier husband, who yearns for something of her own.

I loved the gritty exposition of life for those who were so dedicated to the New World: finding crass judgement by popular hanging spectacles and obliterating the term ‘peasant’ even though many of lower stations were still begging for stale crusts of bread on the dirty street. I loved the attention to the smallpox epidemic and to the tragedy of stillborn children, especially felt in upper class families.  Mostly, I loved the author’s close attention to the power of oral history.

My elementary school teacher used to spend Fridays before holidays dimming the classroom lights and treating us to a few well-spun tales of the voyageurs and the metaphysical: both wrapped in the stuff that creeps across you with a chill and spins you back to the world when Canada was first becoming a nation: amidst the canoes and the firs and the harsh sweat of the voyageur’s brows.  Here, Cayley threads stories of this ilk while positioning her heroine in the line of her mother’s oral fire. Her mother remembers France and tells of the gritty Paris streets, the song and the dance and the opera.

Indeed, there is a major motif stemming each page which conflicts the idea of lies with the reasoning of oral truth.  Francoise tells many haunting tales: at first to her friends, later to her mistress as she moves into a fine estate as a lady’s maid.  In each instance, her audience listens with rapt attention; but calls her bluff. Francoise, however, cannot believe that these stories are lies; rather half-truths; rather beautiful tales that captivate.  It is this Scheherazadean gift which will eventually save her life in a unique, compelling and thoroughly suspenseful way.

It is the power of story which leads us through this theatrical narration. For, indeed, it is a very theatrical book: attention is made to set, to perfectly-crafted dialogue, to action, to the beautiful curtain at the end of the beautiful story, leaving the reader/ audience breathless with the power of a simple climactic sentence.

I absolutely ADORED this novel.

I hope you seek it out.

I received this book on approval from Annick Press through Netgalley.

Litfuse Blog Tour: Courting Cate by Leslie Gould

FROM THE PUBLISHER: When Amish farmer Pete Treger moves to Paradise Township, Pennsylvania, he meets Cate and Betsy Miller. Both are beautiful, but older sister Cate is known more for her sharp tongue and fiery temper than her striking appearance. Betsy, on the other hand, is sweet and flirty,and seems to have attracted most of the bachelors in Lancaster County!

However, the sisters' father has made one rule: elder sister must marry first, before the younger can even start courting. Though he finds both sisters attractive, something about Cate's feisty demeanor appeals to him. Soon the other bachelors in the district convince Pete to court Cate. She hardly seems receptive to his overtures, though. Instead, she's immediately suspicious of his interest.

I guess I should preface my thoughts by letting you all know that Amish fiction is not my favourite genre. In fact, I rarely read it  ( I read a token Cindy Woodsmall and Beverly Lewis just to ensure that I was ‘up’ on the Christian trend); so the drawing card for Courting Cate was the fact that the plot and characters were grounded in Taming of the Shrew.  Indeed, those who have a penchant for the Shakespearian will have fun with its channeling of the age-old plot and matching the characters from the Shakespeare work to the modern day.

The problem? The adaptation fails somewhat when it comes to the character Cate. Katherina (Kate) Minola ( of the play) is a resolute and strong and prickly character---yes, misunderstood; but whip-smart and beguiling. While the eponymous Cate of this work is certainly strong and feisty for the Amish ilk; she doesn’t rise beyond being anything but mildly put-off and mildly intelligent.  I really craved a sparkling, energetic and feisty heroine and, rather, found a heroine who is strong when held toward the metric of Amish Christian romance; but not very memorable beyond.

While I enjoyed learning of Pete Treger’s backstory and watching his persistence to win Cate’s favour, I found that a lot of chemistry was missing. A lot. Indeed, I would wait, with baited breath, for the next scene featuring the two so that fireworks would ignite and the breathless banter of Katherina and Petruchio of the Shakespeare version would erupt. Here, again, I was left somewhat disappointed.

This might sound like a harsh review; but there is a lot to commend Courting Cate: most of which is found in Leslie Gould’s winning style ( she is a great storyteller who infuses the world of Lancaster County so deftly you feel that you are living there ). Further, I applaud her taking a unique idea and making it manifest. It’s an original plot and character piece that, with a few tweaks and a bit more spark and flint, would have made for an enjoyable romance.

Make sure that you visit the Litfuse site to learn more about the author chat this evening where you can interact directly with Leslie Gould

Visit the Litfuse Landing site for Courting Cate

TLC Book Tour: Elegy for Eddie by Jacqueline Winspear

" Early April 1933. To the costermongers of Covent Garden--sellers of fruits and vegetables on the London streets- Eddie Pettit was a gentle soul with a near-magical gift for working with horses. So who would want to kill him.... and why?"



Back in more-than-fine form, Winspear returns to the world of intrepid female detective Maisie Dobbs: juxtaposing Maisie's personal past and present with her penchant for uncovering the truth.  Those who enjoy thinking, atmospheric mysteries with a flair for the perfect world of 1930s elegance, will sink their teeth deep into this latest endeavour.

It's hard, as we with insatiable appetites for mysteries know, to keep a series striding and fresh near ten books in...and yet Winspear makes every outing with Maisie, Priscilla and all fresh and captivating. More still, and unpretentiously, she slyly slides in the figure of Winston Churchill: to add to the well-painted canvas of life on the street: from working streets of Lambeth to the highest of politics.


Winspear has winning literary style that is at once thoughtful, stylish and subtly suspenseful. However, what I note most greatly attributing to her flair is her ability to keep page after page turning with convincing dialogue.  Her characters breathe to life: leaping off the page and into your sitting room, acting out as if they are staging the action affront you while you sit quietly, pensively with your tea attempting to outwit the unstoppable Maisie.

I recommend this series to those who have dappled in the world of Mildred Pierce and Lord Peter Wimsey.

Fans of Maisie and those uninitiated will enjoy the extras embedded in the Harper Perennial PS  edition: including an interview with best-selling novelist Lee Child who asks Winspear a myriad of questions about writing, how her personal life drips onto her pages and her passion for the after-math of WWI in England.

My thanks to TLC for the opportunity to review this book.

Promise me This by Cathy Gohlke

Michael Dunnagan is a street rat. Abused my his Uncle Tom, huddling his nights away wherever he can find crude shelter, Michael’s long given up any hope in finding love or warmth.

He is floored when he meets the kindly Owen Allen, gardener and lofty dreamer who offers Michael odd jobs and shelter until he leaves sail on the Titanic to a new life in America.

Having met and experienced the kindness of Owen and his beloved sister Annie, Michael recognizes he has nothing to stay for. He stows away aboard the mighty ship and is immediately reunited with his new friend, who pledges him brotherly affection, safety and a life in the new world.

On the night of the Titanic’s sinking, Owen Allen trades his life for Michael’s: impressing upon him the importance of seeing that his seeds and plants grow on his aunt and uncle’s farm in New Jersey and that his greatest desire, for Annie to find her way to America, become Michael’s most fervent cause.

This ultimate sacrifice not only affects Michael and Annie from a spiritual and emotional standpoint; but joins them together in a type of makeshift family that transcends blood ties.  While living and working for Michael’s aunt Maggie and her endearingly brusque friend Daniel, Michael learns more of how Christ’s sacrifice was reflected in Owen’s last action of grace. Annie, alternatively, wades through the darker places of bitterness to find ultimate forgiveness: not only for the young man who returned while her brother perished; but also for the cold-hearted aunt who would squeeze the last of life out of her future.

Gohlke does an exceptional job at weaving the events of the Titanic and its pre-boarding in a swift narrative canvas that urges the reader along.  Following the prelude of the main story and Owen’s final act of grace, she does well at delving into the terse aftermath of the tragedy while slowly hinting to the Great War about to unfurl.  Readers who are awash with a fervent passion for the Edwardian world of Downton Abbey will cherish this story.

From a Christian fiction standpoint, it is refreshingly literary; while still weaving an intricate and delicate mélange of characterization and backdrop that will have readers turning the page at rapid pace.

Gohlke is, in short, a beautiful writer and this moving story was made more potent still by her deft skill for narrative arc and characterization. Indeed, friends, this is Christy award-winning material. The motif interwoven of Owen’s plants and seeds taking root and creating beauty on either side of the Atlantic is also well-met with Gohlke’s soft and subtle inclusion of their importance in the plot and in the thriving and growth of the characters.

One might think that the major action would finish with the monumental death of an important and beloved character: rather smartly Gohlke uses the legacy of one act to prove time and again how Christ’s love lives on though his paramount sacrifice left a wake of tragedy and loss. 

Compelling and moving, this is by far one of the best and most competent novels I have read this year: in and out of the CBA.

Happy Launch, Novel Crossing!

Hello all!

Novel Crossing officially launches today! Hurrah to that!

Check it out. While you're there you can read some of my full reviews of a  couple of favourite books I hunted down and reviewed for the Community Site:

• Vienna Prelude
• All Things New
• Lilies in Moonlight
• Love's Reckoning
• Wonderland Creek
• At Every Turn
• Be Still My House

I have also weighed in on a ton of books with their easy rating and one-sentence-review system.

Check out Novel Crossing on twitter: @novelcrossing
and on Facebook: www.facebook.com/novelcrossing

Lest We Forget

From Walter's letter to Rilla as he fights for Canadian freedom in the Great War:

"Rilla, the Piper will pipe me 'west' tomorrow. I feel sure of this. And Rilla, I'm not afraid. When you hear the news, remember that. I've won my own freedom here--freedom from all fear. I shall never be afraid of anything again--not of death--nor of life, if after all, I am to go on living. And life, I think, would be the harder of the two to face--for it could never be beautiful for me again. There would always be such horrible things to remember--things that would make life ugly and painful always for me. I could never forget them. But whether it's life or death, I'm not afraid, Rilla-my-Rilla, and I am not sorry that I came. I'm satisfied. I'll never write the poems I once dreamed of writing--but I've helped to make Canada safe for the poets of the future--for the workers of the future--ay, and the dreamers, too--for if no man dreams, there will be nothing for the workers to fulfil--the future, not of Canada only but of the world--when the 'red rain' of Langemarck and Verdun shall have brought forth a golden harvest--not in a year or two, as some foolishly think, but a generation later, when the seed sown now shall have had time to germinate and grow. Yes, I'm glad I came, Rilla. It isn't only the fate of the little sea-born island I love that is in the balance--nor of Canada nor of England. It's the fate of mankind. That is what we're fighting for. And we shall win--never for a moment doubt that, Rilla. For it isn't only the living who are fighting --the dead are fighting too. Such an army cannot be defeated.

"Is there laughter in your face yet, Rilla? I hope so. The world will need laughter and courage more than ever in the years that will come next. I don't want to preach--this isn't any time for it. But I just want to say something that may help you over the worst when you hear that I've gone 'west.' I've a premonition about you, Rilla, as well as about myself. I think Ken will go back to you--and that there are long years of happiness for you by-and-by. And you will tell your children of the Idea we fought and died for--teach them it must be lived for as well as died for, else the price paid for it will have been given for nought. This will be part of your work, Rilla. And if you--all you girls back in the homeland--do it, then we who don't come back will know that you have not 'broken faith' with us.

"I meant to write to Una tonight, too, but I won't have time now. Read this letter to her and tell her it's really meant for you both--you two dear, fine loyal girls. Tomorrow, when we go over the top--I'll think of you both--of your laughter, Rilla-my-Rilla, and the steadfastness in Una's blue eyes--somehow I see those eyes very plainly tonight, too. Yes, you'll both keep faith--I'm sure of that--you and Una. And so--goodnight. We go over the top at dawn."

A Wreath of Snow by Liz Curtis Higgs

Liz Curtis Higgs loves Scotland.  So do I.  I was fortunate enough to visit in the Summer and, I must say, my attention to her past few works of fiction have definitely been inspired by her passion for the country.

Here, in this perfect Christmas confectionery, Higgs takes us on a railride from Edinburgh to Stirling where a young and intelligent young woman is confronted by a dashing man who holds a desperate secret.

From the beginning, Meg Campbell is conflicted: she doesn't feel as if she belongs at home with her well-off parents, even during the most important time of the year. Moreover, she is forever haunted by the accident that crippled her  younger brother when they were both children.  His bitterness, it would seem, has ramifications on the entire family.  The stolen hope that has pervaded his older years leaves Meg and her family struggling to connect with a man whose personality has become difficult.

Gordon Shaw is as troubled by Meg's past as she is.  Initially unbeknownst to her, Gordon is the long lost stranger who once innocently injured her brother and set in motion a wheel of events with ramifications stemming to the present. Gordon longs to make amends; but Meg would rather her new acquaintance stay completely away from her unhappy family.  Will Christmas bring a time of redemption and unexpected grace...or just added sorrow?

You know what I think?  I think you should pick someone on your Christmas list who loves languid, romantic Victorian fiction and buy this novella for them.  Make it better: throw in a packet of earl grey tea and Scottish shortbread and you have the perfect book-lover's gift!

I received this delectable little treat from WaterBrook Multnomah Books in exchange for an honest review.

Is Everyone Hanging Out without Me? (and other concerns) by Mindy Kaling

Mindy Kaling. Egads. She be the funniest!

Like, the funniest in the world.

I am an intermittent viewer of The Office and I always found her character Kelly to be so sprightly and fun and so typical ( I love that, for those of us who work in office settings, the characters are almost archetypal).  Kaling also writes prolifically for the Office: including one of the funniest episodes it has ever aired (Remember that one with the Dundie awards? That was her).  This memoir acts as an introduction to her career as a comedian and writer and sitcom star; but takes us through her thought-processes with adorable little asides where you feel she is directly talking to you as you get your nails done with a latte and a zesty smile. Her observational humour had me in stitches.

Kaling grew up the daughter of parents who wanted their children to be high-achievers.  Always a braniac, Kaling had trouble identifying with kids her age. When she made it to high school, comedy became her first love and led to the writing and producing of a play that would act as her big break

Kaling champions and advocates intelligence in women. Her mother ( a major inspiration for Kaling and for her character in The Mindy Project) is an OB-GYN. Kaling would never settle for typical domestic role; nor was she brought up to. 

While Kaling is indeed funny, insightful and extremely brilliant; so is she the  type of girly-girl girlfriend you want for nights with merlot, fuzzy slippers and a Nora Ephron film.  Kaling works well in a “man’s world” writing comedy; but she is such a woman (in the flouncy and flowery way) when it comes to her hardcore belief in romance and happy endings.

She’s almost a dichotomy. She’s almost, it would seem, at odds with herself.

Those of you who have watched the Mindy Project ( and do…the stream of consciousness is to die for as is the wonderful success of an American minority in a starring, romantic role) should know that the Mindy you see there is very much the Mindy we meet in her book and that we can assume is the Mindy of “real life.”  Though fame and fortune and success have found her; she still is a down-to-earth woman: concerned about her weight, her singleness,  obsessed with Bridget Jones’ Diary and with a penchant for junk food and shopping with her friends.  I love her.  She’s so refreshingly normal.

Her insecurities will strike a note in that wonderfully relatable fashion so many females look for.  Her anecdotes on dating and school bullies will make you laugh aloud ( I read part of this book on a plane and was so conscious of my snickering).

Mindy Kaling, will you be my best friend?

End Note: Read Mindy's Run Down of Chick Flicks in the New Yorker (you see? the funniest)

Novel Crossing: Kinda the 'goodreads" of Christian Fiction

I am a member of Novel Crossing ( which has VASTLY improved over the past month as it readies itself for full launch) and I encourage readers to check it out.

As well as featuring places to click on the books you've read ( and add them to your shelf ), you have the opportunity to write short, one sentence impressions of the book.

I don't know about you guys; but reading so many long rambly reviews ( like mine!) on amazon and through blogs can be tiresome. Sometimes you just wanna get to the heart of the story and a reader's brief impression, n'est pas?

Another feature (which I provided in link form the other day) are exclusive author interviews: some in print form; some in VIDEO form [see the Novel Crossing chat with Rosslyn Elliot]

I've created a profile (I'm Rachel at a Fair Substitute for Heaven if you want to add me to your community) and started the long task of checking off every book I've read from the vast recesses of this web's base (holy crikey! they've hardly missed anything!) ; but I have yet to really devote time finding "friends" to add to my roster.

You can follow Novel Crossing on twitter: @novelcrossing

Find them on Facebook: www.facebook.com/NovelCrossing

and, of course, go STRAIGHT to the site: novelcrossing.com

A Hobbit Devotional: Bilbo Baggins and the Bible by Ed Strauss

So everyone is super hyped for the new movie strarring John Watson... erm... I mean Martin Freeman as Bilbo. Luckily, Barbour is ready to help you celebrate by excavating Tolkien's more evangelical roots and the parables that can be found in his story. 
Stocking stuffer? I think so! 

From the Publisher:
Those who enjoy J. R. R. Tolkien—even those new to his classic stories—will love A Hobbit Devotional featuring 60 humorous, challenging, and encouraging devotionals. Soon to be a major motion picture, The Hobbit has fascinated readers for more than 70 years. Now, this tale of humble folk who overcome fear, discouragement, and despair through steadfastness, courage, and hope forms the basis of a brand-new devotional book. Each reading sketches a scene from The Hobbit, relates it to a contemporary life situation that readers might experience personally, and brings in the teaching of a relevant Bible story or verse.

I received a review copy through Netgalley on behalf of Barbour

At Every Turn by Anne Mateer

There is an awesome moment in Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm where the loquacious and spirited Rebecca prays for the souls of the heathen in far away lands.  At her time in history, worlds like Africa and the orphaned children and harsh situations not only stirred her heart; but captured her imagination and she prays with flourish that they will thrive. 

 

At the beginning of Anne Mateer’s fabulous and spunky new novel At Every Turn, the equally spirited Alyce Benson has the same heart and conviction stirred when a missionary couple visits her church and Alyce impetuously stands up and promises three thousand dollars for their work on the Gold Coast. Sure, Alyce’s father is rich; but despite her grandmother’s best efforts, both Alyce’s parents are skeptical of the church as a philandering institution where people lose money in the fever of hype. Alyce is just going to have to raise the money herself.

Luckily, Alyce has a unique talent anomalous to most young ladies in 1916 America: Alyce can drive an automobile like  nobody’s business. Her father’s mechanic, Webster Little, takes her out to practice: goggles shading her face, her bobbed hair hidden by a brown cap and the world, in these moments, is Alyce’s own. Is there a chance that Alyce could use her unique passion to raise the money needed to live up to her promise? Only time will tell.  Along the way, Alyce is forced into small deceptions of identity, moments of heart-felt ( and funny in their compassionate calamity) charity which inspires her to give the money she is slowly raising to those in her own community, and questions of conscience and heart.  While Webster Little’s whistle echoes from the shop on her father’s estate, so does Lawrence Trotter’s handsome face and safe job as her father’s accountant (as well as his regular church attendance) seem to meet her demands for a faith-based mate. 

Adventure, deception, Hilarity and a lot of racing ensue in what is by far the most unique historical romance I have read in the CBA this year.

Ally is a whip-smart, funny and believable character.  She is deliciously flawed and touching in her penchant for disaster.  The scrapes and mix-ups she finds herself in are born of her good heart.  She desperately wants to do right (think Anne Shirley ); but can’t help but steer herself off course.  While her mother wants her to be a proper, well-bred lady; she can’t help but thinking she was shaped for something different. There are touching moments in Alyce’s first-person narrative ( a device I don’t usually enjoy; but which is well-employed and well written here) when Alyce wonders, while strolling on the arm of Lawrence Trotter, if maybe she was made for a traditional women’s existence. Of course, the lure of the race track and Webster’s new car tend to throw that delightfully off-kilter and askew.

Webster Little, with his resounding whistle, shady past and general good-humour, as well as his passion for automobiles, will put devout Montgomery readers in mind of Barney Snaith of The Blue Castle.  The time period of the setting and the yearning of a woman desperate to break the mold of society and venture forth on a daring mission full of wonderful adventures reminded me of Valancy.  It was then that I remembered a comment on a friend’s review of The Blue Castle last year Anne Mateer’s comment that it was one of her favourite books (it is, as I have learned from conversation, also a favourite of the Pink Carnation series creator Lauren Willig and of CBA master-worker Laura Frantz).  Anyone who admits to loving this book and somehow, subconsciously, allows its inspiration and similarities to seep into their work is a truly kindred spirit and a “friend” of mine.

I loved wiling away a few lazy hours with At Every Turn.  You’ll grin, you’ll shake your head at the antics of Ally and you’ll root for her: a woman ahead of her time, to not only win the race and raise the money, but also to find ultimate romance and adventure.

Well done, Anne Mateer. This was a competent and boisterously exuberant offering and I can’t wait to see what you have in store for us next.  

See my review of Wings of a Dream

Read how Anne Mateer envisioned the characters ( with period-specific detail and photos!) here

I received this book for review from Graf-Martin Communications on behalf of Bethany House 

Film Review: Showstopper: The Theatrical Life of Garth Drabinsky

I was lucky.  My passion for theatre developed in the brief, shining and glorious decade when Toronto, ranked with New York and London, was the theatre hub of the world.  Even though I lived in little Orillia, my nights were spent singing along to soundtracks; my days in school dreaming of the next production my family would see in the big city. At that time, Toronto theatre was at its height of varied artistry and endeavor.

It was the era of big Blockbuster Musicals. Before the age of the JukeBox musical and when everything was fresh and new and beguiling.  It married classics (the great revamp of Show Boat) with edgy kaleidoscopes of music and colour: Joseph!  Ragtime!! Les Miserables. Phantom!

Toronto in the 1990s was when I first knew it. Because the 1990s was the decade in which this 31 year old came of age.

Our assistant pastor’s wife loaned me The Canadian Cast of the Phantom of the Opera when I was in  grade 7 (Colm Wilkinson! Rebecca Caine) and I was hooked. I begged ( and got )vocal lessons from my parents so I could sing like Christine and I borrowed the Gaston Leroux novel from the library. A love affair was born. Very soon after Les Miserables followed, the singing continued and the incessant reading of classics began.  Not only classics of literature; but classics of the stage.  I was obsessed with the early beginnings of the stage: of operetta, of Gershwin, Porter, of the years that led us through the Golden Age to the modern renaissance. Indeed, musical theatre in the 1990s was evolving, yes, but often a renaissance.

Fortunately, for me, the city not too far-- with its lights sparkling and its performances awaiting-- was filled of touring companies and the productions that settled in for long, languid and brilliant runs. Lavish productions at beautiful theatres. Often productions would test here before heading to Broadway. Audra McDonald and Brian Stokes Mitchell in Ragtime , Clorish Leachman et al in Show Boat, Donny Osmond in Joseph! we were the perfect breeding ground. WE HAD COLM WILKINSON ( I have seen him on stage countless times)  The Mirvishs ran half the town ( The Princess of Wales, Royal Alex, the Elgin, the New Yorker which is now the Panasonic) and Garth Drabinsky’s Livent had shows at the Pantages ( now the Ed Mirvish Theatre) The Ford Centre ( now the Toronto Centre for the Arts) and the Hummingbird (now the Sony).  This was, as you can tell, before the days of sponsored signs when theatres were just like stepping back into a slice of heaven.

[COLM FRIGGIN' WILKINSON]

God in heaven, I was obsessed!  I saved my ticket stubs, bought programs, leafed through the playbills, recognized all the Canadian stars, geared up for the next production, asked for tickets for Christmas and birthdays. I LOVED miniBroadway!

Garth Drabinsky and his ilk fed my creative consciousness. Showstopper: the documentary which exposes the rise and fall of his fraudulent empire took me on a bitter-sweet whirl through the past. On the front, it was an excavation of Toronto in the 1990s. I moved here in 2001 and so while I was a visitor, it had yet to become my home. And yet, yet I remember the way it looked and how exciting it was to come on a visit.  To go to the theatre.

The documentary itself is fascinating especially in how it unravels the destruction of an empire; but how it best worked for me was as a recollection of what the theatre experience used to be like: a treasured and certain thing: a major event.

I have been to London’s West End, to Broadway, to the  great opera houses of Austria. I have seen more of the world in my adult life; but the magic of my formative years as a theatre attendant is unparalleled.  Certainly I live in the city ( where theatre and performance still thrives, if on a somewhat different scale); but while it is still special it is more readily available and it is the  build-up to a performance that I miss.

My family dressed up to the theatre. It was an event. We would talk about it before and after, we would sit quietly as in church reverently watching the action on the stage.  Vendors didn’t wander up and down the aisles dolling out ice cream and beer, cell phones were owned only by the police and Zach Morris.  The only light that occasionally went off was an illegal flash from a hand-held (non- digital ) camera. But, for the most part, audiences behaved differently.  The theatre was a place of reverence.

The film struck a dim chord with me mostly because it caused me to exhume what had long been buried: that moment, that memory of what it REALLY felt like to see a show: the orchestra tuning in the pit, the applause as the conductor wove his way to the front of the musicians, the first cymbal clash or note played, the first action on stage when the red or dark blue curtain was pealed back.   With the end of Drabinsky and Livent came the end of an era: not only for Toronto but also for Broadway. Things are different now: the scales and subjects and calibre of shows are different, the audiences are different, the producers and creators cater to different (and often absurd ) audience needs.

Anyone who is interested in the Blockbuster Age of musicals, in the Tony Awards, in any of the Livent mounted shows will appreciate this bittersweet piece.  A favourite moment occurred in one of the many great interviews (Elaine Stritch, Chita Rivera are just a few of the famed interviewed) where legendary Dihann Carroll speaks to Drabinsky’s risk in casting her as Norma Desmond in the Toronto production of Sunset Boulevard.  Here, Drabinsky broke the mold and a colour barrier.

This took me back and I think it will take a lot of people back: back to an age of my city before Yonge and Dundas Square, before SARS, before the insane amount of box stores and digitalization where the City was an adventure and not a sponsored entity.

Garth Drabinksy knew the moment The Lion King won the Tony that Ragtime ( his stake in the race) and his empire would soon crumble. I doubt the Toronto theatre community recognized that, on a smaller scale, it was also ushering the end of an era.

[if you don't know about Garth Drabinksy, read the wikipedia article and do a google search http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Garth_Drabinsky]

All Things New by Lynn Austin (aka Extra! Extra! Lynn Austin makes me a better Christian)

WARNING: major Lynn Austin love here. GAH! rambles and odes and such... it's rather pathetic ;)

Lynn Austin is no stranger to work and research surrounding the Civil War.  The 8 time Christy Award winner scored two such awards for her Refiner’s Fire trilogy which exceptionally offered readers with three books centered on three different viewpoints: the North, the South, the Slave.

In the Restoration piece, All Things New, Austin has married these 3 three perspectives through new characters and circumstances.  The war is over; but its ramifications have left the South shattered: faithless, hopeless and poor.  What was so hard fought for on both sides seems pale when compared with the devastating loss of life and lifestyle.

For White Oaks plantation owner Eugenia and her daughters, Mary and Josephine, the world is hardly recognizable.  Where the slaves used to work their farm and ensure food was provided and parties balls overseen, this new found emancipation forces a brand new necessity for getting one’s hands dirty. Indeed, the sullying of hands is a major motif in the novel: as Eugenia slowly but surely watches her daughter’s dainty fair skin become blistered and callous with work of survival.

After years of distance, doing back-breaking work for their master’s well-being, freed slaves Lizzie and Otis can finally live together as man and wife.  But, while they still maintain a livelihood on the plantation owned by Eugenia and run by her ex-soldier son, Daniel, they are torn between a conglomerate of former slaves vying for sheer freedom and the bleak helplessness at having the freedom to leave but lacking the direction to go.

Alexander Chandler, a Quaker turned Yankee soldier aches to make amends to his Creator for his part in the hopeless destruction and bloodshed. Acting as agent for the Freedman’s Bureau, he encourages Lizzie and Otis and others of their kind to start anew.  As well as starting a new school that Lizzie and Otis’ children attend, he acts as liaison between the freed slaves and their previous owners in an attempts to encourage them to work peacefully. 

Everything, every single thread in this compellingly readable tapestry is one born of chaos. I cannot fathom the confusion and drastic change of living that occurred for Americans on both sides of the War (the losing South, the Winning North) nor for the freed slaves so beholding to their masters and their degrading way of life that an evening walk seems to instil a sense of breaking a law now dissolved. While Josephine is young and able to adapt to the changes and, subsequently shape her character and drive in a way never imagined by questioning and challenging her uprising to this point, so Eugenia is stuck in a past that she can never resurrect: sadly scrambling to keep up appearances, make calls at neighbouring plantations depraved of their glory and organizing balls to assemble the ragtag crew of the poor and defeated.  Unable to accept that the South’s glory days are gone, she acts as a kind of Ashley Wilkes’ : nobly holding to the past while unable to see the new world as it unfolds before her.  Readers will at times find her stubbornly ridiculous; outwardly wanting to lash at her condescending tone and her inability to see the harm she unintentionally causes. But, here, here is one way in which Austin excels. She can make even the most seemingly unsympathetic character understandable. Slow, sure changes in character equate in massive leaps strode forward and Eugenia leaves so much of her social certainty behind.

Josephine’s tale is by far my favourite: mostly because Lynn Austin’s young women as they confront spiritual uncertainties resonate most strongly with me.  Josephine is, like the cream of the Austin canon, a perfect collision of modern questions and a well-researched time period. She’s effervescent, extremely relatable: a firecracker on the verge of something wonderful even as the old life threatens to pull her back.  Josephine is, at the beginning of the book, eclipsed by her loss.  The loss of her way of life, the loss of her side of the War, the loss of her father and brother.  Even when Daniel returns, he is not as she knew him and retreats sullenly into himself emotionally scarred by what he has seen and heard.  When she makes an unlikely ally in Alexander Chandler she recognizes him as a sounding board for the questions rapidly firing in her head.  While Chandler may represent the winning side, so he poses questions about God, faith and humanity…most importantly, her future… that Josephine is aching to resolve.

The relationship between Josephine and Alexander is worth reading alone.  In gloriously slow and lugubrious fashion, Austin metes out significant and brief meetings. Each time, we learn a tad more about both as individuals as she strings us along: their silences as telling as their conversations.  In a recent interview with Novel Crossing, Austin mentioned that she often writes large patches of dialogue first. Her first draft, she admits, is often a plethora of dialogue wherein she revisits and hashes out and patches together connecting scenes.  This is so telling in the propensity of her dialogue to resound off her page; but also testament to her genius at writing character.  These are character driven stories.  Much as Josephine clings to her father’s mirror ( a kind touch featuring Alexander is brought to light when it comes to this mirror), so do these compelling and strong scenes hold a mirror up to ourselves.

  Lynn Austin does best when she asks universal questions  through her fiction. She often doesn’t answer them. She poses them, she encourages one to fight and challenge and wrestle with them as her achingly relatable characters do.   It is no secret that I love Austin and I encourage readers who try her to recognize that she works on more than one level. First, she is a universally admired storyteller. She has dozens of women readers ( in the States and Canada and beyond) who recognize she has a knack for just a great narrative. Her stories will grab you. She doesn’t trip you up with dense and muddled descriptions; rather she leans across and whispers in your ear.  It works well, it’s a style her own. 

Secondly, she is unique enough to have what I call a  Lynn Austin Moment. It occurs in every book in the same vaguely delightful way that the Ernst Lubitsch touch pervaded his classic films.  This is that one reassuringly blossoming moment when you know that you are reading a Lynn Austin novel. It’s a delight, it’s a spark: it’s a scene so unique and cherished and wonderful that you just want to live in it a moment.  It’s for this reason that people read books and you will find a plentitude in Austin.  I don’t want to give away MY Lynn Austin moment in All Things New because I want readers to discover what it can be for themselves.

Finally, and most importantly, she is divinely inspired.  I don’t usually get so mushy when I dole out the Christian book reviews; but Lynn Austin’s novels tend to meet me where I am spiritually at the exact moment I am reading them. It is almost mindblowing how spirit-filled these books are and how they speak to me on so many levels and challenge me and encourage me in ways I didn’t even know I needed challenging and encouraging.    I get mocked ( good-humouredly) for my Lynn Austin love; but if readers could possibly fathom the way that God speaks to me through her work, they might give me a bit of a break.

I yearn for every believer to find the same type of solace in fiction.  I believe that God speaks in many ways, mediums, forms. For passionate readers why wouldn't he use intelligent storytelling as a portal?  Lynn Austin is gifted.  Not just in the way that we mention the gift of any artistic storyteller; but in her ability to strengthen her readers’ spiritual walks.  She opens our eyes to things: They are often things that are staring us right in the face; but they hit me doubly so when I am in the midst of her pages.

Austin’s books validate me as a believing woman. I know I am not alone. I know that I am on the right path. I know that even when I feel too-outspoken, too awkward, too imaginative, too different that I have found an imaginative construct wherein I am validated. I am valid. My life is valid. God made me the way I am. I, too, can have a purpose: as flawed and strange and outspoken and bewildering and unladlylike as I am.

She can silently and gently preach through her words forever that God uses women of all types and circumstances in all times (married or single, educated or not, strong and outspoken or docile and meek) and that ALL are worthy.  This is her thesis (I’ve told you all this countless times before).  And there are times when I look to my “big three” of female author-hood (Austin, DL Sayers, Catherine Marshall) and thank the good Lord above for how they quench my thirst. Because, honestly, fair readers-who-are-probably-bored-of-this-long-winded-ramble, I sometimes wonder if I would still be a believer today, given time, circumstance and the confusion of being an independent woman in the Evangelical sphere, if it wasn’t for their meeting me where I’m at. Strangers, yes, using fiction to resuscitate me. 

I’ll never really have the  guts to write Lynn Austin a personal email. I would get all flustered and not know where to begin …. But I want you to know how she has changed me, challenged me, healed and consoled me. I think the right book ---the right author---can find the right reader in providential bliss--- and I want you to give it a chance. She might just be the balm you need.  This story is far more than historical fiction.  But, that’s the beauty of Lynn Austin, isn’t it?

This review copy was provided from Graf-Martin Communications on behalf of Bethany House 

A Proper Pursuit by Lynn Austin for 1.99

Okay, I love Lynn Austin.
< really not a newsflash>

We all know this.  Anyways, one of my ALL TIME favourite Lynn Austin books A Proper Pursuit is 1.99 right now ....

so, umm... BUY IT

not convinced? read my review here   If you only buy one Christian novel on the Chicago World's Fair (it seems there's a ton nowadays) make it this one.  Silas McClure is one of my favourite heroes of ALL time.

It is available for a myriad of different readers  at this special price 

Yesterday, Lynn Austin was featured in an interview with Novel Crossing about how characters bring her books to life. READ IT 

I am currently savouring All Things New and adoring every moment.  I like to ration out Austin's books because I know it will be a year before another one.... expect a review shortly.

happy Lynn Austin-ing! ( I mean reading)

High Faluting Mumbo-Jumbo: a treatise on Barney Snaith, Morgan Harris and the Montgomery breed of Romantic Idealism

A romantic friend of mine recently got married. She’s a kindred spirit in the truest sense of the word. One of those girls, like most of us, who set up our castles on fluffy clouds and dream, with high standards, of the man we will eventually marry. She, like me… like so many of us, had it all worked out in her head in perfect connect-the-dots fashion since childhood.

The man she married: who swept her off her feet and whom she is ridiculously happy with--- was not that ideal. At all. Rather, he was far more perfect for her than her imaginative trajectory could have foreseen. 

Whenever I talk about ideals, the constructs that shape we imaginative sorts from the rest of normal humanity, I note that I am usually speaking to women who, like me, were very much shaped by the tales of LM Montgomery.  There is nothing LM Montgomery does if not instill in one an absolute early-founded penchant for romance.  It’s unlike any other romance  you will read about or experience in your head, her romance.  It does wonders for your psyche and your imaginative constructs: mostly because these yarns are read in the formative years where it is absolutely essential for you to identify with her spirited heroines.

The women I know who don’t share a passion for Montgomery somehow evaded her in childhood: when the purple prose, the wistful, whimsical lanes that spun to coloured,  christened homesteads, the long glances and the high-spirited “high faluting mumbo jumbo” ( to quote Kevin Sullivan’s Gilbert Blythe) were rampant in our playful imaginations.

oh HIIIIII morgan!!! nice coat-tails

While I wouldn’t trade my long and quite intense relationship with Montgomery…. I admit that my inability to find the same romance and happiness a lot of girls my age have found in real life has something to do with her helping me establish standards.  Not just for men: not just for her heroes and their inherent qualities [or exterior qualities---Barney Snaith’s dimples, for one, Andrew Stuart’s manner of speech, for another]; but mostly for the relationship that the heroes in her novels share with their heroines.  The preternatural kinship that strings two souls together.  It’s quite wonderful to read and re-read and read again the banter between Dean Priest, say ( not condoning him as a perfect hero; but recognizing how attractive he can be when he is at his whimsical and gnome-like best) , when he is at his best with Emily or the playful way that Valancy and Barney can read each other’s thoughts without anything being spoken.

The other night, after a text conversation with the friend listed above, I confronted this age-old idea of ideals.  I fall for them all the time. I create and construct them into something far beyond myself.  I am guilty of it as many of my ilk are.  I settled in with the Sequel to Anne of Green Gables as imagined by Sullivan.

Part of my appreciation for the Sullivan adaptation comes in the composite sketch of Morgan Harris who groups together different characters from the Anne series to create a dashing hero straight from Anne’s imagination and erstwhile conversations with Diana.  She has already explained to Gilbert and Diana what her ideal man is and she is fairly certain she won’t find him in Avonlea.  When she first encounters Morgan, she is writing on the banks of the breezy North Shore near the White Sands hotel.  Her pages flutter away as she loses herself in the language of “dark foreboding tones” and similar vernacular of her Purple Prose and it is Morgan, looking straight as if she were Pygmalion and he was constructed in physical form, who assists her.

[perhaps the only non-Gilbert/Anne video on youtube]:

Her second encounter with Morgan, after the Clam Bake is somewhat more typically Anne.  At this point she has confronted Gilbert for his silly school boy ways and has had to inform him that she will never feel the way about him the way he does her.  Morgan is rambling on the dark road and runs into Anne’s carriage. It is here that he is first treated with typical temperamental Anne aplomb.  He tries to be a gentleman, drips a few sarcastic lines that put one in mind of Andrew Stuart or Barney Snaith, raises a dashing eyebrow and spirits off.

She encounters Morgan again ---and for a far longer period of time – when she accepts the position at Kingsport Ladies College in New Brunswick and tutors his daughter.  Anne is taken with Morgan because he is like one of the heroes from Averil’s Atonement come to life (sans Rolling Reliable Baking Powder ).

When I express my love for Morgan ( noting that he is very much my ideal: an older man with experience, a dark past, a penchant for adventure---he’s a ship’s captain for God’s sake--- and a love of culture ) I am often derided by those who are passionate Gilbert fans.  What they might momentarily fail to remember through the veil of loving All Things Gil is that Morgan was very much Anne’s perfect man, too.

Indeed, I think, and this is speaking to Sullivan’s conception of course, that the Anne of that series might definitely have accepted Morgan’s offer of marriage had she not run into Gilbert in town on a weekend for a medical conference.  It is seeing him again that prompts her to take up her writing about home and experience another spell of homesickness. She drops the “high faluting mumbo jumbo” of her romance stories and, subsequently, is able to turn her back on the pitch-perfect romantic life offered her by her supposed ideal.  Seeing an island boy and connecting him with a sprint of creativity with a nostalgic turn towards Green Gables and days of old severs any chance that Morgan Harris had of winning Anne’s love.

He’s not a dark or sinister hero, he doesn’t hurt her or impose negativity on her; in fact he might be the most important person who comes into her life. It is only when she is confronted with her ideal that she recognizes that it will never bring her happiness.  There is a flesh and blood incarnation of Anne’s lofty man who will read her  “Tennyson by firelight”; but upon his materialization, she is driven home and subsequently to Gilbert.

As much as Montgomery champions lofty ideals and purple prose and romance in all of its fleeting and fluttering forms; so does she inspire thoughtful recognition that the best romances are often found outside of the lines we sketch and trace for ourselves.

In this way, I am put in mind of the ultimate Montgomery dreamer, Valancy Stirling.  The Blue Castle is my favourite Montgomery romance because it is this very idea made manifest.  The very title speaks to Valancy’s eponymous ideal situation: a castle not unlike the Alhambra in Spain with turrets and nooks where heroes wait on her every whim and desire.  The heroes in the Blue Castle, we learn, change as Valancy gets older. At the beginning, on the morning of her 29^th birthday, her hero looks very much like a man she has recently seen around Deerwood: the notorious Barney Snaith.  When circumstances inspire Valancy to propose marriage to Barney, she is made more acutely aware that her initial ideal has melded into something that this man and his life circumstance have provided. Her Blue Castle is now a Muskoka cottage, her ideal prince is now Barney.  On the morning of her hasty wedding , she thinks back to her childhood conception of marriage, of the day of her wedding: of what her dress might be, the cake, what the groom would say and how he would stand.  Instead, she has realized that her perfect happiness transcends the daydreams that so occupied her when she was relegated to a lifeless existence on Elm Street.  Just as the fateful night after she first sees Barney scrambling up from underneath his car melds the previous prince of the Blue Castle into a roguish like creature with dimples and “the look of an amused gnome”, so does Tom MacMurray’s cabin on Barney’s island become more castle than she could ever want. So does this man with a supposed reprobate past and a somewhat unconventional attractiveness become more than she ever wanted.

Montgomery’s heroines teach us to dream, to construct ideals, to build our castles in the sky; but when they are confronted with their happy ending and their perfect pairings it is often beyond their wildest dreams. My recently married friend said that she never dreamt it would feel the way it does. I guess this is what happens when you find your perfect match.  I guess it transcends these ideas and our wildest imaginations. It isn’t perfect or cookie-cutter, it is more the tingling surprise that Valancy experiences when Barney’s car breaks down in the backwoods of Muskoka after a roaring party at Chidley Corners. There, in the barrens of nowhere, with Barney sitting silently beside her, any ideal that took her far from small Ontario and to the greatest spanses of the world with the most deliciously enigmatic hero could never replace the perfect happiness she feels sitting next to that which makes her whole. 

To summarize, I think that Montgomery woman should hold out for ideal because it will occur in whatever shape or way it is meant to.  It will more greatly surprise and bewilder and delight if confronted with a life of refusing to settle for anything less than pure happiness.

Call the Midwife: A Memoir of Birth, Joy and Hard Times by Jennifer Worth

If you’re like me, you have been immensely enjoying the Call the Midwife series on PBS. You have especially been enjoying the fact that it makes you cry every week and that Chummy is awesome.

Because I was enjoying the series so much, I decided to read the book of the same name by Jennifer Worth.

This is an exceptionally readable book and the pages do fly.  It paints and evocative and painful glimpse into post-war London in the East End where Nonnatus House nuns and midwives reside: at the ready with their surgical kits and bicycles to ride through the slums and provide medical care to women. Often, they are called for other nursing duties which show the bleakest and most dire circumstance.

Certainly the war has ended; but East End London by the docks is in shambles. People are poor, unemployment rates are high and living conditions put one in mind of the Tenement Housing of early 20^th C New York City (as one example).  In this case, many buildings are almost uninhabitable due to bomb-wreckage; but the population and the poverty means that residents will take whatever they can get for a roof over their head and a chance to raise their families.

Families were large. This was, literally, a baby boom.  Husbands were back from the war, times were high ( as were spirits) and there was no birth control available.  Not until the 1960s would family sizes drastically change. 8-10 children was not remarkable or unusual in this day and one anecdotal family boasts 25 children: all living under the same roof, all born to a gorgeous Spanish woman who does not share the English language of her husband.

The book works well because rather than following a traditional narrative, it offers exposing snapshots of a time at once nostalgic and horrifying.  Amidst the chaos  is the sentimental overload of new life; amidst the destruction and the bomb-ravaged docks is the hope for a future of peace.  Vignettes featuring memorable characters  knit together Worth’s patchwork quilt.  The characters are colourful, often funny, sometimes heartbreaking.  This is truly a book where you will laugh and cry at the same time.  Viewers of the series will not that in many cases they condense threads of multiple narratives into a few composite characters. Here, the circumstances are fleshed out in a much more haunting and disturbing fashion.

Perhaps the most vivid and emotionally gut-wrenching story belongs to widowed Mrs. Jenkins: a toothless old woman who roams the streets: a harbinger of the births and deaths to come.  No one seems to know her story, why she tramps through the streets with a limp, using the gutters as a latrine, her boots scraping the cobblestones, her toothless gums snapping at the passersby. In a thousand years I couldn’t have fathomed the horrific circumstances which wrought her present state. It will crush you.   Not unlike the horrible story of young Irish Kathleen: a girl at the wrong place at the wrong time, it will leave you slack-jawed at human atrocity occurring in our parent’s and grandparent’s lifetimes.  You would think, that with the war would come harmony and brighter, bluer skies.  But, human depravity knows no change and spans through decades, it would seem.

I quite enjoyed Worth’s easy writing style, her observational humour and her almost-Dickensian flair for painting the most bizarre and eccentric characters with a flash of compassionate light.

I highly recommend this book; but advise most that it is medically graphic, contains language questionable for a book set in a nunnery and is crass with sexual content.

I quite loved it, however, and regard it as one of my favourite books this year.