I bought ‘Away’ at a thrift store, because I always browse the book section when I visit a thrift store. I had heard of Jane Urquhart so picked this up. ‘Away’ was one of her earlier books, and it just grabbed me and kept me spellbound while I read it. This could be because of my Irish heritage, or maybe my desire to be a better writer, or perhaps the combination of dreaminess and rugged poverty. I thought of others who have mined their families for historical myth and fact. Sad and brave people. Our ancestors. The early settlers, searching for a place to start anew and to grow their own food and be sustained in safety. I had tears frequently.
Another of Jane Urquhart’s books was ‘The Stone Carvers’, which I read mostly on the weekend of the 100th anniversary of the end of WWI. The Stone Carvers tells the story of a broken family of settlers, whose children were raised by a woodcarver father and a distressed mother. Eventually the brother and sister move to become carvers of the Vimy memorial, but that doesn’t happen until near the end of the book. Leading up to that is a tale of loss and pain, of love and despair. Magical, which Urguhart is so good at displaying,
When I read her book ‘Night Stages’ I was carried away again to Ireland, but not a part that I have visited. It also makes me want to visit Gander Nfld to see the mural at the airport. This book was well-researched. I thought a lot about marriage and mistresses, and sibling rivalry. Sad. However, one part I wrote into my journal, because she tells the legend of Oisin. She writes how Oisin thought he had been asleep for only 3 days, and he wanted to find his hunting companions. St. Patrick met him and told him he had been asleep for three centuries, and his companions were long dead. It had been a long time since the wars. Oisin wept. Patrick said, “I will instruct my monks to write down your stories and those of your kin, so they will not be lost. for your world has been vanquished my my world, and will never come back.” (P. 155)
This part moved me to tears, because I thought about the First Nations desire for restoration and our settler need for reconciliation. This is sadness. Acceptance of loss. Sorrow.
