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Not Wanted on the Voyage Book One

And you, are you still here

tilting in this stranded ark

blind and seeing in the dark.        From Leaning, by Phyllis Webb

This read is part of my re-read project which I began in January of 2013 when I joined Heavenali’s event of that same month. (See Month of Re-Reading under Events on menu bar) I enjoyed the re-reading so much that I did not stop when the month was over but rather just slowed down and opted to finish my initial list for that project. Timothy Findley’s Not Wanted on the Voyage I left til last so that I could savour it once more. And now I have decided to do posts on each of the four books that make up the novel. There will also be one or more posts from analytical and critical works concerning Timothy Findley’s novel.

In Book One we meet a large cast of characters, including Dr. Noyes/Noah and Mrs. Noyes.  One of my favourites is introduced early and this is Mottyl the cat. Mottyl has one good eye and one that is blind from cataracts. In the evenings she sits with Mrs. Noyes on the porch and watches the world “drift into darkness through the narrows of her one good eye”. The link to the epigraph above for Book One should be noted.

The family of Doctor and Mrs. Noyes includes Shem, the oldest son, called The Ox, Ham the middle son, a “scientist” and Japeth, the youngest son. Hannah is Shem’s wife and Emma is Japeth’s wife. Emma is eleven years old at the start of the book and she has a dog named Barky.

It was through Mottyl that I first registered the sinister side of Doctor Noyes’ practices. He has caused Mottyl’s cataracts but makes “merciless puns” about “cataracts for cats” and he steals Mottyl’s kittens for use in his experiments. I don’t remember reacting strongly to this in my earlier reads but I have had much more life experience with much loved felines since then. I would have more trouble with this if I did not know that the author was a cat person.

A number of ominous signs occur in Book One: the blizzard which Doctor Noyes says is snow but Ham says is ash; Japeth’s adventure in the city which results in him turning blue and silent; the Faeries coming out of the woods and bringing the message to “Watch”.

Mottyl has some interesting recollections in this section of the book. She recalls one summer when she met Whistler the groundhog and he invited her into his burrow where it was cooler and Mottyl was going to go in  but “had had to back out even before her tail was in the tunnel. Being underground was too alarming.” She soothed Whistler’s hurt feelings quickly by insisting “It is only the confinement.” “And she stayed at the entrance to his burrow, baking through the noonhour, just to show him she was not offended (by the flavour of his burrow), while he had old many stories, lying in the damp earth below her.”

To repay Whistler, Mottyl took him to the pond in the Noyse’s yard so that he could drink during a drought time because he was ill and weak and could not make it to the river.

Mottyl is the reader’s informer about many aspects of the setting. In the groves of catnip she would get “almost as drunk as Mrs. Noyes” sometimes but she also passes along information about the sanctuary places where a beast who is ill or injured could be safe. She explains that these places were “anathema to dragons” because the smell of the mushrooms growing there made dragons vomit and have violent headaches. The mushrooms “had come to be thought of as the spirits of the dead, whose bones had gone down under the leaves and into the earth.”

Mottyl “had a healthy fear of dragons and demons” and she gives us another perspective on the Faeries besides that of Mrs. Noyes. She also explains that the lemurs “were considered the guardians of the wood”. One of her friends is the lemur, Bip, now about 6 years old, whose partner is Ringer (they have ring-tails). It is Bip who informs Mottyl that there is a “new presence” in the wood. He says that “the smell is different”: lemon verbena and rotten eggs and mud pots boiling over. Bip thinks it is an angel.

In this section of the book, Noah Noyes is over 600 years old. He has received a message carried by a rose coloured dove from Yahweh who says he is very upset about the state of the world and he is coming to visit Noah.

Another creature we meet in this book is the Unicorn: he “was not a great deal bigger than Mottyl herself”. He had a nervous habit of talking to himself and he was hunting for flowers to feed The Lady. He passes on some very upsetting news to Mottyl about one of the farm animals.Not Wanted

Mottyl continues on her way once the Unicorn leaves to return to The Lady with some columbine for her to eat. Mottyl must check out what the Unicorn has told her. On the way she  meets the “angel” in the company of Ham, one of Doctor Noyes’s (Noah) sons. The “angel’s” name is Lucy and Lucy adores Ham and Ham tells Mrs. Noyes that he and Lucy want to get married. Noah’s reaction?” “If you hadn’t coddled that boy, he’d be old enough to recognize a whore when he sees one,” Noah had said (to Mrs. Noyes).” Lucy is seven feet tall and is afraid of dogs which makes Mottyl sympathetic towards her.

Other celestial characters include Yahweh, his cats Abraham and Sarah, and  Michael Archangelis, the Supreme Commander of all the Angels. The”Lord God Yahweh…was more than seven hundred years older than his friend Doctor Noyes” the author tells us.

Where to categorize the Faeries and the singing sheep and the Dragons is uncertain at this point in the novel.

And so Yahweh eventually arrives with his retinue including cages filled with exotic, large animals and there is much that happens during his visit. Eventually he walks in the orchard with Noah and gets ready to leave. All the animals are left in Noah’s care and only Noah knows why this is the case. Yahweh also gives Abraham and Sarah to Noah as a gift.

As Yahweh’s carriage pulls away there is the sound like that of “voices down an unlit hall whose distance could not be measured”. Mottyl knows what the sound is but she thinks maybe only she and Yahweh know what it means.

I don’t recall very much of Book One from my earlier reading of this work and now I am more intrigued than ever to find out what happens in Book Two. Re-reading is such a rich experience when old books become new again!

 

 

 

Post About Not Posting

Ever have one of those times when you stop doing something you really enjoy doing and can’t quite figure out why you’ve stopped? Can’t determine whether it is temporary or permanent? Is there an explanation for it?  Is it a response to something else that is happening in your life or your mind or your heart? Is there a message you have been supposed to pay attention to but have missed somehow? 

Whatever the explanation, I seem to have been in such a spot for several weeks and  there isn’t any clear sign that it is about to change or that I am about to move on from this point to something else. There seem to be too many books and too little time and I have felt driven to read, read, read and stop for nothing.

It is not that I haven’t been reading so why haven’t I been reviewing the titles I’ve read?

There have been some entertaining, compelling and informative titles among those I have not reviewed: The People of Forever Are Not Afraid by Shani Boianjiu; Sister Mine by Nalo Hopkinson (Can Lit); Eucalyptus by Murray Bail (Australian); Dear Life by Alice Munro (Can Lit); Harvey: How I Became Invisible by Herve Bouchard (Can Lit); The Graveyard Book and Stardust by Neil Gaiman; Inanna: From the Myths of Ancient Sumer by Kim Echlin (Can Lit); How Should a Person Be? by Sheila Heti (Can Lit); Alif the Unseen by G. Willow Wilson; Where’d You Go Bernadette? by Maria Semple; The Aviator’s Wife by Melanie Benjamin; The Emperor of Paris by C. S. Richardson (Can Lit); The Tribe of Tiger: Cats and Their Culture by Elizabeth Marshall Thomas; The Good Fairies of New York by Martin Millar; May We Be Forgiven by A. M. Holmes; Season of Darkness by Maureen Jennings (Can Lit); Clash of Kings (part two of A Song of Ice and Fire) by George R.R. Martin; Rosalie Bertell by Mary-Louise Engels (Can Lit/Biography).

And I am very close to adding two light and very compelling reads: Her Majesty’s Dragon by Naomi Novik (first in a series which is creative and compelling)and Murder on Astor Place by Victoria Thompson, which is the first in the Gaslight series set in New York city and of which the protagonist is a midwife.  I am really enjoying these and they have been waiting for me for many months.

After the above I am considering going back to my re-reading project and the last on a list I made back in January, Not Wanted on the Voyage by Timothy Findley. This one has been waiting patiently since I first put it on my re-read list last January: I saved it for the end because it was my favourite favourite so it is about time I followed through on this one.

I also have some books piled up which were inspired by a previous re-read, Our Lady of the Lost and Found. The titles waiting are Marina Warner’s Alone of All Her Sex: the Myth and the Cult of the Virgin Mary; Untie the Strong Woman by Clarissa Pinkola Estes and Goddesses in Older Women: Archetypes in Women Over Fifty/Becoming a Juicy Crone by Jean Shinoda Bolen. These three have been patiently waiting for some weeks now and I must get to them soon or at least make a start at checking them over and choosing one to concentrate upon.

So…perhaps the read, read, read situation HAS BEEN at least partly caused by the desire to do justice to all the titles that have been lining up. Having said that, of course, I must grant that the titles will NEVER stop piling up but it does feel good to have gone pell-mell at some of them and to have a few still clamouring for their share of the attention.

Family Matters: Rose Clark comes for Easter Dinner

I’ve had this oversize plastic bag with the Zeller’s logo on it for several years now. I think it was given to me when my favourite aunt died partly because I am the family member who keeps track of the family history and partly because no one else knew for sure the identity of the persons whose photographs were in the bag. There were three women and one man. For several years the bag remained in one closet or another and, because it was large and awkward, it would occasionally pounce upon me from above my head as I tried to retrieve something else of more general “use” about the house. Each time it fell I would look inside the bag and think that something should be done about the contents: the pictures were quite old and one or two very badly damaged by water before I even became the guardian and they were becoming more and more brittle and small chunks of pressed cardboard material would break off the corners and edges when they were handled or, more likely, when they pounced upon me.

On one of these occasions I removed the photos (they averaged 15 inches by nineteen inches in size) and tentatively identified the persons. I concentrated at first on the one photo of a young girlClara Steele about 10 years of age: it had been shaded and lightly coloured with pastels and the young lady(see right) looked somewhat dreamy-eyed or romantic if you will. I thought she might be my grandmother but the features were not quite right. The other folks were older: a woman in her late twenties or early thirties perhaps and a woman in her fifties or early sixties and a man probably in his sixties. After searching through the materials I had collected on the family I determined that the young woman was my great grandmother, Rose Clark and the two older adults were her parents. The young girl was a sister of my grandmother and so a great Aunt of mine. I was fortunate to have all their names and their birth dates and more.

So what to do with Rose, Harriet, Robert and young Clara? That was the question. I took the pictures to a nearby commercial establishment that both sold art and did framing. What I had thought might be the best answer was to use a dark oval frame and a convex glass without a matte. The glass would not touch the surface of the photograph and thus protect it from any further damage. This would be a fairly expensive venture: each photo would cost approximately $400 if the same frame and glass were to be used for each. Well, four at once was prohibitive and so I chose to have my great grandmother done first.Rose Clark I had known her personally as she was alive for the first 13 years of my life and I went on Sunday afternoons to visit her with my grandfather. I remember her in her kitchen with the old trap door in it through which my grandfather would go to check when there were plumbing problems or to get wood for heating. I also remember the dining room and sitting there in the winter time and the little desk with a cloth curtain in front of the bottom shelves where there was an odd collection of books and a few toys in a basket that must have belonged to my grandfather’s nephew. I would sit on the floor and go through these items while my grandfather would talk to his mother. I wish I could remember just one of those conversations. I am sure some were about local politics and taxes and such like.

I think these big pictures, at least three of them, might have hung in the front parlour (a quite small room for such a dignified designation) which we never sat in but were allowed to go in and sit on the stiff old horsehair chairs.

I went by the house very recently. It is now unrecognizable except to someone who was once a visitor. It has been completely covered with a light coloured siding and several of the windows have been replaced and trimmed in a magenta coloured paint. On the back of the house there has been a small extension added, probably to make a more practical entrance. Below the house an area has been dug out and leveled and a 2-car garage has been constructed. There was once a chicken/pigeon house although not quite so far from the house as the garage is now. There was no sign 0f it with its Victorian trim around the second story painted in a dark green. It seemed so strange to think that the people who live there or the people who walk by have no idea of how it once looked and how it looks in the photographs I have in my album.

When I left the art shop with my great grandmother wrapped carefully in brown paper, I felt good about taking her home and hanging her up on my dining room wall in time for Easter dinner. I feel especially good about having removed her from the Zeller’s bag and put her back into a family setting. Her parents, one set of my great great grandparents, I will perhaps have packed in acid-free foam board and sealed up to protect them while I gather the financial resources required to get them framed. My great aunt’s photograph(the young lady above right) I will try to pass along to a direct descendant whom I have traced to the town in which my grandmother lived most of her life. I am hoping that descendant will welcome his great grandmother into his home.

Our Lady of the Lost and Found by Diane Schoemperlen

This is one of my favourite all-time reads and I have enjoyed re-reading it again in the months following Heavenali’s Month of Re-Reading in January 2013. One of the epigraphs for this novel comes from Margaret Atwood’s Cat’s Eye and part of the epigraph is:

“…she was a Virgin of lost things, one who restored what was lost. She was the only one of these wood or marble or plaster Virgins who ever seemed at all real to me. There could be some point in praying to her, kneeling down, lighting a candle. But I didn’t do it, because I didn’t know what to pray for. What was lost, what I could pin on her dress. 

I paint the Virgin Mary descending to the earth, which is covered with snow and slush. She is wearing a winter coat over her blue robe, and has a purse slung over her shoulder. She’s carrying two bags of groceries.  Several things have fallen from the bags: an egg, an onion, an apple. She looks tired.”

And this is from Our Lady of the Lost and Found:Our Lady of

“There was a woman standing in front of the fig tree.

She was wearing a navy blue trench coat and white running shoes. She had a white shawl draped over her hair like a hood. Over her right shoulder she carried a large leather purse. In her left hand she held the extended metal handle of a small suitcase on wheels that rested on an angle slightly behind her like an obedient dog.

Fear not, she said.

I was too stunned to be scared. I put the watering can down on the coffee table and stared at her.

It’s me, Mary, she said. Mother of God.

I must have looked blank. She went on, smiling.”

Her going on consisted of listing a number of the official designations given her such as Queen of Heaven and Daughter of Zion.

And so begins this remarkable one week visit by the Virgin Mary to the home of another very ordinary woman in an ordinary town who writes for a living and lives a quiet, simple life. During the course of the visit, the reader learns a great deal about the Virgin Mary and her position throughout the world in various cultures and of her various appearances such as that to a wealthy widow in Walsingham in 1061, to another widow, Petruccia de Geneo in Italy in 1467 and to twelve-year-old Eugene Barbedette and his ten-year-old brother Joseph in 1871 in Pontmain in northwestern France. The information is presented in very palatable segments labelled as History or Knowledge or Sightings and these are balanced by sections about ordinary shopping expeditions and preparation of meals or about things like the coincidence that both the narrator and her visitor are re-reading The House of Spirits by Isabel Allende. If you are a book person you just have to adore this part about reading a book about two people reading another book that you want to get out immediately and start re-reading yourself! Such a simple joy!

From the book jacket: “An absorbing and inventive novel that redefines our notions of fiction and non-fiction. Our Lady of the Lost and Found is an inspiration to believers and non-believers alike. Perhaps its greatest achievement is that through the narrator’s touching friendship with Mary, we learn as much as she does. We come to understand that in our desire to believe in something larger than ourselves, it is our own doubt and uncertainty that makes us perfect candidates for faith.”

Two Solitudes by Hugh MacLennan

Inspiration for this read came from two directions: a month of re-reading in January on Heavenali’s blog and the books selection for this year’s Canada Reads competition as the representative from Quebec. I was pleasantly surprised that it read as easily as it did: it was not as ponderous or pedantic as I expected it to be for some reason. On the Canada Reads debates the symbolism was often spoken of and I came to expect something weightier and less enjoyableTwo Solitudes 220130402_123736 because of that weightiness. I did think that some of the changes over time (there are four distinct sections: 1917-1918; 1919-1921; 1934, and 1939) happened too abruptly and/or the last two sections covered too much in too short a space having captured the reader’s interest in the characters and then tidying up the loose ends in what seemed like a no-nonsense fashion. It is  worth reading for itself and to recognize its place in the Canadian lexicon. My edition was published in 1945 and that gave a special quality to the experience for me.

Because Paul became a writer there are some interesting thoughts about writing:

“There was so much self-flattery in the idea of writing books; it made him superstitiously afraid of telling anyone that this was what he wanted to do. His own voice had surprised him as he made the admission to a girl who was almost a stranger.” (page 279; the girl was Heather)

Also observations on being French-Canadian:

“..a French-Canadian is born in one ( a strait-jacket). We’re three million people against a whole continent.” (page 281; Paul speaking to Heather)

“You don’t have to be a French-Canadian to be born in a strait-jacket. Every girl’s born in one, unless you’re a girl like Daffy.” (page 289; Heather to Paul; her sister is Daphne)

On the title:

“He wondered if Heather had ever felt as he did now. Two solitudes in the infinite waste of lonliness under the sun.” (page 305; Paul)

On grief:

“Her mother felt prostrate with grief, not knowing that grief is always for the self.” (page 321; Heather on her mother Janet’s style of grieving for her grandfather, John Yardley)

On life:

“Yardley had always supposed that if people had been intended to know what they were doing, they would have been created with the faculties to make the knowledge possible.”

On love:

“She loved him so utterly he had become her way of life. For a man it could never be the same. He had his work, he had the ruthless drive inside that would never let him alone.”

Yes, the story is dated but the upside of that is the accuracy of the picture it presents of relationships and politics of the time. The strong characterizations of men like Athanase Tallard, Two SolitudesHuntley McQueen and John Yardley, along with Father Emile Beaubien give a cinematic richness to the story while Marius Tallard and Kathleen Tallard with the young Paul bring in the tension often associated with young men in conflict with their fathers, unhappy women and confused children. All ingredients that result in a strong story. In the later sections Heather Methuen and her sister Daphne and their mother Janet provide very different and interesting portraits of wealthy women in that era while Marius’ partner Emilie and their five children provide a balance to the Methuen family. In many ways, this story is timeless but it is simultaneously a snapshop in time of a period in Canadian history. It reads quickly and takes only a small adjustment to a style of an earlier period. Hugh MacLennan won the Governor General’s award for fiction for Two Solitudes in 1945: another good reason to read it .