The Art of Being There

Title: Girl in a Red River Coat
Author: Mary Peate
Published: 1970
Pages: 130

Reading Time: December 18-December 22, 2009.

Plot Teaser:
An autobiographical fictionalization of growing up in 1930s Montreal, Quebec, Girl in a Red River Coat captures the mood of a particular time and place, through the eyes of childhood. Wrapped in innocence and clarity, Mary Peate's novel echoes the dominant feelings of the Depression era.

How I Got It:
This book was stuck between a collection of others in my parents' basement. My youngest sister left a lot of her old books behind when she moved out, and this was one of them. It caught my attention because of its stark cover and subject matter. I picked it up at some point in the summer of 2009, simply going through a mix of other fiction in the basement, most of which were romance novels.

The Review:
For any work of art to have mass appeal, it needs to present itself in a way that is relatable to its audience. In the realm of fiction, many stories rely on a main character who the audience can sympathize with and one who acts as the eyes and ears of the reader. Mary Peate's Girl in a Red River Coat places Peate herself at the centre of the story, and it is through her mind that we come to understand her life and the lives of those around her. Thankfully, Peate's views are never dull and her reflections in the novel show great insight, while transporting the reader to a very tangible time and place.

This book takes place in 1930s Montreal, Quebec, in the midst of the Great Depression. Small touches like references to the price of bread and other items really help bring the somber reality of the era to the forefront. While it focuses on Peate and her everyday activities, such as sitting on the porch talking with friends from school and her neighbours, it is the bigger picture that forms around these experiences that gives the book meaning and power. The name of the book itself is not explicitly explained, and Peate's red river coat is only mentioned in a few paragraphs, but the symbolism of Peate as 1930s everygirl is quietly obvious. The book may focus on Peate, but it is about the collective experience of people, particularly children, growing up during this difficult era.

The book's enjoyment is largely a result of its complete lack of pretense. The chronicled experiences, such as riding the street car, going to the store, being insulated in a Catholic community, and learning about the opposite sex, are told with very matter-of-fact prose. They simply state things as they were, which gives the book a very innocent and honest quality. While there are certainly little quips and jabs at certain aspects of community and family life, most passages are incredibly straight forward and deadpan. For example:

"On Holy Thursday, which was a school holiday, we were encouraged to visit seven churches in order to gain a plenary indulgence, which meant that all the sins would be wiped from your soul and you could start from scratch. You were supposed to walk from church to church, not ride, and you weren't supposed to speak as you walked, or, we were told, the plenary indulgence wouldn't go into effect."

This type of simplicity permeates Peate's prose, and its subtlety shows a very neutral retelling of this part of the author's life. What is wonderful about this style of writing is that it does not go out of its way to beat you over the head with a particular message or to make you feel horrible for the people during the Great Depression. Instead, it gives a very level-headed account, with enough heartfelt perspective and a certain level of naivite that force admiration from the reader.

I should mention that the main story tracks Peate's quietly vindictive relationship with a sick aunt who has moved in to live with her family and sleep in her bed, which grounds the narrative in something the audience can relate with. Peate goes back to this struggle periodically in the book, and resolves it with as much grace as she does the rest of the story. Despite only being 130 pages, this record of 1930s life in Montreal is packed with social commentary, real life drama, and it offers an engaging snapshot of a girl's seemingly simple life.

The Verdict:
I would recommend this book to anyone who enjoys autobiographical fiction, history, or books in general. It may be a thin and quick read, but its mental pictures, reflections, and emotions have staying power. I can imagine it being particularly enjoyable for people who went through this era, but it is highly recommended for young readers as well. There are enough social issues, namely related to religion and the Quebec language issue, for it to be relevant to a wide audience.

4/5

Next Up:
Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie.

Pulling Back the Covers

Title: Blankets
Author and Illustrator: Craig Thompson
Published: 2003
Pages: 582

Reading Time: December 11-December 12, 2009.

Plot Teaser:
An autobiographical graphic novel, Blankets tracks the life of its author by exploring his relationships with family, friends, God, and first love. Drawn in exquisite detail and told in a loving and romantic way, the book was voted one of the Top 10 Graphic Novels of All-Time by Time magazine.

How I Got It:
I love and have loved comics and graphic novels since I started to follow them seriously in my late teens and early twenties. Though my devotion to the medium has slowed down as a result of channeling my finances towards other things like food and clothing, I have always returned to this misunderstood format. I received Blankets as a Christmas gift in either 2005 or 2006 from my sister. It was perfect, because I had wanted to pick up the mammoth title for a while, but kept putting it off for whatever reason. I held off reading it for various reasons, including it being too near a breakup; the book was noted for its romance and nostalgia, and I just did not feel like experiencing anything related to those two feelings at the time. As time went by, the book simply sat on my book shelf in Hamilton, Ontario, before being transplanted to Etobicoke to become a part of this personal challenge.

The Review:
First love is tough. There is enthusiasm, a sense of discovery, laughter, passion, grace, and for most, the eventual shattering of personal ideals. Craig Thompson captures all of these feelings and more in Blankets, by using his own experiences as a template for his illustrated autobiography. He wrote, drew, and inked every page of this ambitious work, and the amount of labour put into it shows in the complex finished product. Blankets is an intimate and passionate purging of personal demons, and a beautiful encapsulation of teenage innocence and growth. By using his own life as the basis for the book, Craig Thompson ensures a closeness and honesty with his work and his audience. Regardless of how much he may have embellished or idealized some of these scenes, the end result is still an affective work of literature.

There are numerous parts to this graphic novel. It begins in a small town in Wisconsin, where a grade 3 Craig and his kindergarten brother Phil sleep in the same bed, using the wonderful imaginations that boys have to enact various action-packed scenarios. This innocence is portrayed beautifully by Thompson, who uses his talents and his medium to their fullest potential. For example, he will begin with the boys on the bed, but then do a full-page spread of them lost at sea, with sharks circling their boat. The result is joyful, rambunctious, and lively. He does this throughout, not only to show his relationship with his brother, but to depict his relationship with his family, his first love, and his faith.
Craig's personal struggles with himself and his faith permeate every scene of the book, and his relationship with his Evangelical upbringing and God in general inform much of his guilt and perceived personal failings. He is ashamed to touch a girl, or to even lay alone in her bed; he attempts to be a picture of moral purity. What is interesting is how his faith journey begins as a commitment based on the desire to escape his mortal shell. Since he is not the most popular kid in school at any age, Craig envelops himself in the belief that he is only a shadow passing through and that he has heaven to look forward to as a reward for his piety and mortal suffering. Thompson uses Bible passages throughout to emphasize the weight of faith in his journey, sometimes depicting the Bible stories themselves with charming mastery.

Thompson could have been very blunt with this book. Instead, he takes his time developing his characters, and there is a long cumulative effect to how Craig comes to certain realizations in his life. Yes, there are obvious touchstones throughout the story, but they generally come after a long period of personal discovery. It is this patience that gives the book an honesty and a very human feeling. The most mundane things are depicted, but never without reason, and always with meaning. How the author is able to fill each panel and page with something new and wonderful is a testament to his artistic commitment.

When Craig does want to emphasize something, he does it with style, grace, and a romantic purity that is difficult to criticize. Yes, he romanticizes certain scenes, but the emotional staying power of these images and their implications can never be denied; this is a book whose scenes and images stay with you long after you put it down. The graphic novel format, more than any other, has the power to entrench its messages in the reader's mind, as it begs for re-reading and re-seeing. The reader is able to stop at any time and admire an image, in all its subtlety, for as long as he or she wishes. All the better when the artwork has such full, sharp, and flowing lines like it does in Blankets. Sometimes, the pictures are all you need to tell the story.












So, why call the book Blankets? Aside from Craig and his brother having to share the same bed, and Raina making a homemade quilt for Craig, there does not seem to be much meaning behind the title. But just as the rest of the book has a cumulative structure, so does the title: it becomes the common bond between each of Craig's storylines. If you really wanted to analyze the book, you can say that the blankets represent warmth and comfort, just like Craig's memories and his faith serve the same function. However, the opposite effect is that blankets can also coddle and overprotect us, closing us off from the real world. Eventually, we need to step outside and engage the world ourselves, allowing it to scar us, while gradually gaining the confidence to make our own footprints in the snow. I will not spoil the ending, but I will say its sentiment is a perfect closing to everything that has come before. It gives purpose to Craig's journey and offers a simple yet profound idea, while bringing everything full circle. Yes, there are still some questions and minor frustrations at the end, but the dominant emotion I was left with was one of admiration.
The Verdict:
This book is an achievement in autobiographical fiction. There are a few loose ends, such as an early sexual abuse experience that is never fully reconciled or talked about between Craig and his brother, but this is forgiven when every other aspect of the book is considered. I fully recommend this to graphic novel aficionados and the uninitiated alike; it is simultaneously microscopic and massive in scope.

4.5/5

Next Up:
The Gunslinger by Stephen King.