18 July 2026

Margaret Laurence: 100 Years



Margaret Laurence was born one hundred years ago today. Is recognition appropriate in a blog devoted to Canada's forgotten, neglected, and suppressed writing? I'd say so. Laurence was popular and celebrated in her day and remains so today, yet she was also a lightning rod for censors.

Leading the charge was Reverend Sam Buick of Peterborough's Dublin Street Pentecostal Church, who considered The Diviners blasphemous, adulterous, and profane. Did the preacher's ire have something to do with his similarity to the novel's Reverend Jake Flood? He never addressed the issue.

My first Margaret Laurence book, A Jest of God, was a gift from my uncle, David Busby, a canon in the Anglican Church. It was also my first signed book. Published in 1978, it's part of a series of Seal reissues which I would argue are the most attractive mass market paperbacks ever published in this country. 


Missing is The Stone Angel, her masterpiece, but that's only because I couldn't find a decent image online.

Ah, what the hell. Here's a copy being offered on Ebay.


Starting out in the book trade, I was surprised to find that Laurence, whose novels were so ubiquitous as to be found in drug stores, were out of print in the United States. When they did return, it was with an academic press. My English cousins had easier access through Virago.

American and British reissues of A Jest of God:
University of Chicago Press (1993) and Virago (1987)

For years I worried that Margaret Laurence would fade from Canadian consciousness, but her name is still strong. True, we don't see her  books sold in drug stores, but then books are no longer sold in drug stores. I see Laurence lauded by English bloggers, most notably Simon at (Stuck in a Book) and Ali (Heavenali), and sense that her profile has actually risen in UK. 

Wishful thinking, perhaps, but it warms the heart of this stranger.

Jean Margaret Laurence (née Wemysse)
18 July 1926, Neepawa, Manitoba -
5 January 1987, Lakeside, Ontario

RIP


Related post:

02 July 2026

Living Through Another Cuba


The Tent of the Wicked
Robert Switzer
New York: Signet, 1956
128 pages


We begin in a despot's bedroom. Six soldiers enter, one throws the light switch, and the country's president is ordered out of bed. His mistress is a sound sleeper.

This is the end of the Small Man's rule. He'd been expecting it. 

Where readers expecting it?

In June 1949, on the occasion of the author's eighth short story for Esquire, the magazine reported that publishers had been urging Robert Switzer to write a novel. Did The Tent of the Wicked meet their expectations? Was it shopped around? Whatever happened, it didn't arrive for another seven years – and then only as a mass market paperback. 

That opening scene is also the first in his story 'The Small Man,' which had appeared in Esquire's March 1955 issue. Not identical, but pretty damn close, it runs from the beginning to the first line break: 

cliquez pour agrandir
'The Small Man' is not a long story. This is the rest:


The violent final scene is much the same as another in the novel. Though the paragraphs between don't feature in any way, they do follow the Small Man's changing fortunes.


The publisher's pitch has it that The Tent of the Wicked takes place in "a Latin American country." I can do one better in identifying that country as Cuba. Its hero is Paul Rezzado, a young man who works for a travel agency in "the Capital." Much like Jonathan Richman, he falls in love with a bank teller. Her name is Angela. Their relationship is so passionate, so intense, so maddeningly enduring that Paul feels in need of a break. After pushing his employer for a temporary transfer, he leaves for two months' work in San José and doesn't return for a full three years. When he does, Paul finds Angela married to a plump businessman who is also father to her unborn child. She'd given up waiting sometime around the thirtieth month.

Just as well, really. Angela had been faithful, but not Paul. Besides, there was that old promise he'd made to return in sixty days, not eleven hundred.

Paul goes back to San José, where he befriends a married teenaged prostitute. He calls her "Doll-face," a nickname neither she nor anyone else understands. She vanishes, then reappears with a face that looks nothing like a doll's. The new police official in town had abducted her, raped her, tortured her, and disfigured her before dumping her back onto the street. Paul kills the man taking care that no one knows...  but word gets around. San José sees him as a hero and his fame begins to spread. Other men begin following his example, taking on the authorities like their hero Rezzado. Paul wants none of this, but more men join in and the government feels threatened. He becomes a hunted man until the military surrenders to public will and joins his side.

The novel's second scene takes place in the Presidential Palace where Paul, Provisionary President of the Republic, meets with General Avilia and captains of industry identified only as "the oilman," "the cattleman," "the communications man," and "the banker.":
These men could be designated by their specialities, their near-monopolies, but actually they were inter-involved, the banker owning parts of oil well and the cattleman sharing in silver mines. They did not own everything in the country but, between them, they owned a part of everything and repesented those who owned the rest.
What good can come from a meeting such as that?

The novel's climax owes nearly everything to Switzer's October 1955 Esquire story 'The Death Bringers.'


As the title suggests, there is no happy ending.

Robert Switzer's last known work is the 1961 novel I Was Going Anyway. It's the
 best Canadian noir novel I've read this year, if not entirely original. Switzer mined three of his old Esquire stories, the earliest being 'Death of a Prize Fighter,' which appeared all the way back in the June 1949 issue. 

'The Small Man' and 'The Death Bringers' were both published in the fifteen months leading to The Tents of the Wicked. Were they segments of a work in progress or simply reused for his debut novel?

I don't expect we'll ever know nor does it matter. The Tents of the Wicked is one hell of a book.

Trivia: In 'The Small Man' the Paul Rezzado character is named Jesus Rezzado. This Anglican caught several echoes of the New Testament in the novel itself.

The Rezzado character in 'The Death Bringers' is named Perez, which is the surname of the man Angela marries in The Tent of the Wicked. 

Object and Access: A paperback original, there have been no subsequent printings or editions. The cover illustration does not reflect a scene in the novel.

As I write eight copies are listed for sale online, ranging in price from US$4.00 to US$33.00. All booksellers are in the United States. A word of caution, the bookseller asking US$33.00, the most dear by far, charges a further US$99.50 to ship what is a slim mass market paperback that weighs less than a sparrow. 

Related posts:

01 July 2026

W.M. MacKeracher's 'Canada, My Land'


Patriotic and personal verse for the day by William Mackay MacKeracher (1871-1913), the very same man who wrote that old favourite 'My Canadian Girl.' Both come from Canada, My Land and Other Compositions in Verse (Toronto: William Briggs, 1908), the third of five volumes of MacKeracher poetry.

CANADA, MY LAND

               There may be more enchanting climes
                  Within a southern zone; 
               There may be eastern Edens deckt
                  With charms to thee unknown;
               But thou art fairest unto me,
                  Because thou art mine own,
                     Canada, my land.

               More spacious plains and loftier heights
                  In other realms may be.
               And mightier streams than those which bear
                  Thy waters to the sea;
               But thou, great handiwork of God,
                  Art grandest unto me,
                     Canada, my land.

               More glorious records may adorn
                  The annals of the past
              Than those which tell the rise and growth
                  Of thy dominion vast;
              But I am proudest of the land
                 In which my lot is cast,
                    Canada, my land. 

             Beneath thy green or snow-clad sod
                My fathers' ashes lie;
             Thou hast my all, to thee I'm bound
                By every dearest tie;
             For thee I'll gladly live, for thee
                I cheerfully would die,
                   Canada, my land.
A Happy Canada Day to all... and belated best National Day wishes to our Greenlandic allies and friends.

The view from our Upper Canadian sunroom, 21 June 2026.

25 June 2026

Back to the Gypsy That She Was


The Baronet's Bride; Or, A Woman's Vengeance
May Agnes Fleming
Chicago: Donahue, n.d.
250 pages

Not to suggest that he didn't deserve it, but has there ever been a more tortured soul in all of Canadian literature than Sir Jasper Kingswood?  The first words of this novel – "And there is danger of death – for mother and child?" – are his. The mother is wife Olivia, who is struggling greatly to give birth. Doctor Godroy is sympathetic, but is "sorry to say...." Sir Jasper calls to a servant: "Ride to the village – ride for your life!... fetch the Reverend Cyrus Green here at once."

The baronet is certain his wife is going to die. I was certain his wife would die. Yet Lady Olivia survives as does the newborn, the future baronet.

Sir Jasper receives the blessed news in his library, but the joy is short-lived. He is soon arrested by the sight of a man in the swirling snow standing outside looking in one of the room's many windows. With heart warmed by a miraculous birth, he bids the mysterious figure take shelter in the Kingswood family seat.

An old man, yet tall and upright, wearing a trailing cloak of dull black, long gray hair flowing over the shoulders, and tight to the scalp a skull-cap of black velvet. A patriarchal beard, abundant and silver- white, streamed down his breast, and out of a dull, white face, seamed and wrinkled, looked a pair of eyes piercing and black.

Identifying himself as Achmet the Astrologer, the visitor informs the baronet that he has come to "look into the future of your newborn son."

To prove his otherworldly abilities, Achmet takes Sir Jasper's hand. The baronet's palm tells of a troubled childhood in which the early deaths of his parents figure. Brief mentions of Rugby and Cambridge follow, after which Achmet describes in great detail a grand tour of the continent that followed Sir Jasper's studies:
“It is in Spain – glowing, gorgeous Spain – and she is one of its loveliest children. The oranges and pomegranates scent the burning air, the vineyards glow in the tropic sun, and golden summer forever reigns. But the glowing southern sun is not more brilliant than the Spanish gypsy’s flashing black eyes, nor the pomegranate blossoms half so ripe and red as her cheeks. She is Zenith, the Zingara, and you love her!”
   “In the fiend’s name!” Sir Jasper Kingsland cried, “what jugglery is this?”
After looking up the definition of "jugglery" in my OED, I couldn't help by agree.

Achmet continues:
She is beautiful as the angels above, and as innocent, and she loves you with a mad abandon that is worse than idolatry – as only women ever love. And you? You are grand and noble, a milor Inglese, and you take her love – her crazy worship – as a demi-god might, with uplifted grace, as your birth right; and she is your pretty toy of an hour. And then, careless and happy, you are gone.
The baronet is spooked: “No living mortal knows what you have told me this night!” Though tempted to toss the old man out into the the snow, Sir Jasper simply must know what is to befall his newborn heir. And so he leads the visitor up sweeping staircases to the battlements atop Kingsland Manor, leaving the astrologer alone to study the stars. Achmet descends in the approaching dawn, handing over the horoscope of Sir Jasper's infant son.

It was all an act.

Once out of sight, aged Achmet becomes spry, striding toward a hovel on desolate Hunsden's Heath where he is welcomed by the "dark face lighted up into the splendor of absolute beauty" of a woman named Zara. The astrologer Achmet is in reality her husband Pietro. Of more importance to the plot, he is Zenith's son-in-law. Zara is the result of that hour of pleasure some two decades earlier.

Meanwhile, back at the manor, Sir Jasper lies unconscious on the library floor clutching Achmed's horoscope. He manages to recover in time to attend the christening of his son at the village church, the Reverend Cyrus Green officiating. Lady Olivia is too weak to attend, which is probably a blessing because no sooner is the ceremony is very nearly interrupted by the arrival of an uninvited guest:
A weird and unearthly figure – like one of Macbeth’s witches – with streaming black hair floating over a long, red cloak, and two black eyes of flame. All recoiled as the spectral figure rushed up like a mad thing and confronted Sir Jasper Kingsland.
   “At last!” she shrilly cried, in a voice that pierced even to the gaping listeners without – “at last, Sir Jasper Kingsland! At last we meet again!”
   There was a horrible cry as the baronet started back, putting up both hands, with a look of unutterable horror.
   “Good God! Zenith!”
The abandoned lover says many unchristian things before collapsing in the church floor. She is taken to the manse and is soon retrieved by dedicated daughter Zara. It says much about Sir Jasper the horoscope, and not the scene in the church,  is what so haunts his remaining twelve years. In what is the first of the novel's five – five – deathbed scenes, Sir Jasper Kingswood confesses to "one hour of mad, brief bliss" with Zenith. In doing so, he acknowledges that the woman he denied knowing in his own church – on the occasion of his son's christening – not only saved his life, but had been his lover. He also acknowledges that Zara, whom he has seen only once – coming to the aid of her mother on the occasion of his son's christening – is in fact his daughter. 

That's a lot for Lady Olivia to take in, but I'd argue that it is even more for his twelve-year-old heir Everard.

This is not Sir Jasper's story – he dies not one-fifth of the way into the novel – rather the results of the seed he has sown. The Baronet's Bride; Or, A Woman's Vengeance concerns two women, the first being Harriet Hunsden, a sporty young thing who looks every bit as lovely and at home in a ball gown as she does her fox hunting garb. Lady Louise, sister of Lord Carteret, likens her to Diana Vernon in Sir Walter Scott's Rob Roy.

Rob Roy
Sir Walter Scott
Boston: Estes & Lauriat, 1893
Lady Kingwood desires Lady Louise as a daughter-in-law. At twenty-two, Everard (now Sir Everard), is so taken by Lady Louise's beauty, charm, poise, and intelligence that he comes within a minute of proposing marriage. Lord Carteret's sister is expecting it, I was expecting it, but just as the words are about to leave his lips the nearly-betrothed are intruded upon by jealous rival George Grosvenor. This is just as well, as seventeen-year-old Harriet Hunsden, whom Everard has only just met, is waiting in the wings. The baronet is so smitten by "Harrie" that at their second meeting he proposes to her instead. 

Harriet Hunsden is The Baronet's Bride. The woman of the alternate title, A Woman's Vengeance, is not Zenith, rather her daughter's daughter, known affectionately as "Sunbeam." She'll later appear onstage as the enchanting "La Sylphine." As "Sybilla Silver," she saves the life Sir Everard by shooting an assailant. She could've just as well killed the baronet, but that would not have been enough. She must fullfil the prophesy left by her father Pietro two decades earlier: Sir Everard Kingswood will be convicted of murder and die by hanging, bringing disgrace upon the family.

I've spoiled little in that last sentence. The faux horoscope left by Achmet the Astrologer, known only by Sir Jasper and Lady Olivia, is kept secret for pretty much the entire novel. But that is of little consequence, the reader knows that A Woman's Vengeance involves nothing so simple as murder.

The Baronet's Bride; Or, A Woman's Vengeance is typical of May Agnes Fleming novels in that female characters are the strongest. Lady Kingswood not only survives giving birth to her husband's heir, but but guides his young life. Such is her influence that young Sir Everard is perfectly happy to propose to Lady Louise. Though just seventeen years of age, I might consider Harriet, later Lady Harriet, the most remarkable of the author's women were it not for the woman who has no name: Sunbeam, La Sylphine, Sybilla Silver... 

Sins of the father visited upon the children and all that, but the women rule.

Bloomer:

"I do admire a spirited lady rider, and I do think a pretty girl never looks half so pretty as when well mounted."

Object: An attractive yet cheap hardcover, the last eight pages are devoted to adverts for other Donohue books. I found the one devoted to G. Harvey Ralphson's Boy Scout Series to be the most interesting, not only because only because Ralphson didn't exist, but for its nods to American imperialism. Of lesser interest, but only slightly, is the inclusion of of Black Rock by our own Ralph Connor in Donohue's Choice Fiction Library. 


Access:
The Baronet’s Bride was first published from 3 October 1868 and 26 December 1868 in Philadelphia Saturday Night. It first
appeared as a book published that same year by Donohue. Several more Donohue editions followed. It was first published in the UK as Heir of Kingsland Court; Or, The Baronet’s Bride (London: Henderson, 1887). In 1891, New York publisher George Munro included the novel in paperback as volume #41 in his Library of American Author's series. Nine years later, Street and Smith followed with its own paperback edition. My guess is that the novel last saw print in 1910 in a volume shared by Who Wins? published by the New York Book Co.

Ignoring all print on demand vultures, there are just three copies of the novel listed for sale online. At US$18.50, a 1909 New York Book Co edition – this one without Who Wins? – is the least expensive. It's on offer from a Yankee bookseller. A Nova Scotia bookseller offers a Donohue edition with pictorial cover at US$25.00.


A second Yankee bookseller has listed a third Donohue edition at US$28.00. It's in excellent shape, but the cover features only text.


24 June 2026

Monument aux Patriotes: 100 Ans

In Montreal, a city blessed with so very many works of public art, the Monument aux Patriotes stands as one of the most poignant. It was unveiled one hundred years ago today by nonagenarian Marion Cardinal-Marion. This and other St-Jean-Baptiste Day events were covered on the front page of the 24 June 1926 edition of the Montreal Daily Star, the city's afternoon Anglo newspaper.

The reporting begins: 

For all its coverage, the Star did not include a photograph of the newly installed monument that day. No Montreal newspaper did, which I expect had much to do with time constraints imposed by the technology of the time. The image at the top of this post comes from the following morning's edition of La Presse. That afternoon, the Star featured further reporting on the previous day's festivities, along with this:

Also featured is a photograph of Marion Cardinal-Marion herself, lone surviving child of notary Joseph-Narcisse Cardinal, the first of the twelve men hanged for their roles in the Lower Canada Rebellion.

The past may be a foreign country, but not entirely.

On this day, we honour those who fought for our rights in the Rebellions of 1837 and 1838, just as Manitobans celebrate Louis Riel every February. My daughter is a graduate of École secondaire Gabriel-Dumont, named for the man who was Riel's number two in the North-West Rebellion. That school is in London, Ontario, a few kilometres from the Canadian Thames. Visit the Veterans Affairs Canada website and you will find it includes a page devoted to the Gabriel Dumont Memorial.

One hundred year ago today, Quebec's Lieutenant-Governor Narcisse Pérodeau represented King George V in honouring the men who were hanged for treason under the monarch's grandmother Queen Victoria. 

Montreal's Bureau d'art publique has a very good webpage about the monument. One hundred years ago, de Lormier was a bustling thoroughfare. It is less welcoming today, but that's only due to poor city planning and the rise of the automobile. Still, I encourage a visit.

The Montreal Daily Star, 25 June 1926