Hope to see you there!
12 November 2025
An Evening With Merrickville Authors
11 November 2025
Remembrance Day
The son of William and Ellen Dixon, Frank Percival Dixon was born on 16 April 1898 in Elkhorn, Manitoba, not far from the Saskatchewan border. Elkhorn's population today is under 500, roughly the same as it was back then. His parents were a farming couple. Frank, the family's fifth child, was one of eight children, Winona and Gertrude being the only girls.
Four days before the Christmas of 1916, Frank Dixon travelled to Winnipeg to enlist in the Canadian Over-Seas Expeditionary Force. He was eighteen at the time.
His first known poem was written three days later:
Two months after that, he provided a will, leaving everything to his mother.
Frank Dixon's early wartime verse, particularly that composed in Canada, deal largely with romantic notions of the adventure that awaits overseas or humour found in his situation, as in his 26 March 1917 poem 'Sackville':
The army life in Sackville,On 22 April 1917, Dixon arrived in Liverpool aboard the S.S. Canada.
Let me convince you all,
Is playing hide and seek with mumps,
And we'll play the game till fall.
One man gets the mumps and then
We stay here just to see
If there won't be another case
To get our sympathy.
Dixon wrote about this in the poem 'From Liverpool to Shorncliffe.' His overseas experiences inspired dozens of poems, many of them quite detailed. Consider the first stanza of 'An Air Raid in England,' written on 26 May 1917:
It was six twenty-five in the evening,The next month, he reached France:
On the twenty-fifth of May:
We were quietly enjoying the coolness
After a long and sultry day.
In 1937, as war clouds were again gathering over Europe, Frank's mother Ellen self-published a slim volume consisting of forty-five poems and fragments written by her son in the twenty months between the day he enlisted and the day he died.
A mother's love.
08 November 2025
Wild Geese on Film (Part 3): After the Harvest
| The third of three addendums to the recent post about Martha Ostenso's 1925 bestselling novel. |
The only film adaptation of Wild Geese released during my lifetime, yet I missed its airing on 4 March 2001.
I was the father of a toddler at time.
After the Harvest was a made-for-TV movie. A part of Baton Broadcasting's Canadian Literature Initiative, a very slim, very small bone thrown so as to get the okay for its takeover of CTV. The corporation promised all of one million dollars spread over two years to encourage independent productions. What followed were adaptations of Anna Porter's The Bookfair Murders, the Gail Bowen mysteries Deadly Appearances and Murder at the Mendel, and Murder Most Likely, which was based on the Michael Harris book The Judas Kiss.
The Porter and Bowen books were murder mysteries, Harris's was an investigation into a corrupt RCMP officer who in 1983 tossed his wife off the 17th-storey balcony of their Toronto condo. All four were published in the 'nineties.
Wild Geese, which features no murder, was a seven-decade-old novel. When first published it sat on store shelves alongside Bliss Carman and E. Barrington, not John Grisham and Daniel Steele.
| Detail of a Henry Morgan & Co ad, Montreal Gazette, 19 November 1925. |
The first thing that strikes is the look, which captures the beauty of the Canadian West, using natural lighting to full effect. There are shots that look like paintings come to life. Cinematographer Gregory Middleton would go on to Passchendaele, The Watchmen, and Game of Thrones.
Added to these are extraordinary performances. One expects as much from Sam Shepard, who is perfectly cast as tyrannical, yet dispassionate Caleb Gare. That stare! He commands nearly every scene, as the story demands. Liane Balaband, who plays Lind Archer, is another standout. Her role as "the Teacher" is somewhat greater than in the novel, though I do think CTV's promo reel exaggerates the character's influence:
Finally, there's the script. I've left this for the end because, by necessity, spoilers will follow. Anyone coming fresh to Wild Geese may wish to skip to the After the Harvest YouTube link below.
Read the book, see the movie, and remember they do not tell the exact same story.
According to a Sandra Martin piece in the 3 March 2001 edition of the Globe & Mail, screenwriter Suzette Couture first read Ostenso's novel after having been given a copy by Maggie Siggins when working on the film adaptation of A Canadian Tragedy: JoAnne and Colin Thatcher. Like me, she was hooked.
The first words are uttered by Judith Gare, played by Nadia Litz, as she lies seemingly naked in a wheat field:
LIND: I was just dropped here, they wouldn't take me any further. I'm expected...
John says nothing.
LIND: ... at Caleb Gare's?
JOHN: No one goes up that road.
LIND: Then why do you?
JOHN: I go everywhere. I deliver the mail.
There's the cinematography, the attention to detail, and the acting, but what impresses most is Couture's script. Her dialogue does much to rein in the novel's length, as in this exchange between Lind and Judith:
JUDITH: Caleb's father farmed this land. We're born to it, to live here and die here. It's just the way it is.
LIND: And your mother? She never takes your side with him?
JUDITH: She doesn't care. Not for any of us.
LIND: You really believe that?
JUDITH: What's it to you anyway?
LIND: You don't know me. You don't know anything about me.
JUDITH: Tell me then.
LIND: The man who was supposed to marry me left.
JUDITH: I've heard worse.
LIND: My father's dead.
JUDITH: I call that lucky.
Couture provides Lind with a backstory. That she's Catholic explains why she does not join Caleb in services at Yellow Post's church.
Very clever.
I don't mean to suggest that I'm all in on After the Harvest.
The much criticized ending of Wild Geese is just as contentious in this adaptation. Here Caleb survives the fire to be met with his wife in the final scene. I don't know that it is the perfect ending, but it is superior. Because I think the scene worth watching, I won't quote the dialogue. It begins at the ninety minute mark, pretty much right down to the second, and is just about the best thing I've ever seen from a Canadian television production.
The film can be seen in it's entirety on on Youtube (for now, at least):
I recommend it highly.
04 November 2025
Wild Geese on Film (Part 2): Ruf der Wildgänse
| The second of three addendums to the recent post about Martha Ostenso's 1925 bestselling novel. |
It's hard to know what to make of Ruf der Wildgänse, the 1961 Austrian-German film adaptation of Wild Geese; it comes and goes from YouTube, but never with subtitles. Because I know no German, some of what I have to say about the movie may be mistaken, particularly as I'm relying on memory.
We begin with the opening credits, which features the most disorganized flock of Canada geese I've ever seen.
Who are the men in red?
No idea.
Why are they after the couple?
Ditto.
The important thing is that the woman, Amelia Jasper (Regine Felden-Hatheyer), is captured and receives a prison sentence. From what I've been able to glean, she gives birth to a son while incarcerated. The boy, whom she names after his father Mark Jordan, is seized and handed over to missionaries.
I expect Amelia is released at some point because the next we see she's wandering about the countryside in search of shelter. She finds it in the home of Caleb Gare (Ewald Balser).
Amelia's dramatic, violent backstory owes its existence entirely to screenwriters Alf Teichs and Per Schwenzen. From this point on Ruf der Wildgänse adheres more closely to its source material. Nearly all of the primary and secondary characters are present, the exception being schoolteacher Lind Archer. Given her influence on Amelia's daughter Judith, this seems a mistake, but who am I to judge? Again, I don't know German. It may have been a stroke of genius.
Those planning to read Wild Geese may want to stop here. There will be spoilers.
In Ruf der Wildgänse the role of schoolteacher is assigned to Mrs Sanbro (Brigitte Horney). As in the novel, her son Sven (Horst Janson) and Judith Marisa Mell) have something going on, but work has taken him away from his family's farm. In Ruf der Wildgänse, Caleb intercepts letters the young man writes to his daughter. The apparent silence leads Judith to believe that Sven isn't as into her as she is in him.
Enter handsome Mark Jordan (Hans Neubert), who in this version of the story is a surveyor sent to map out the area. Caleb sees the unexpected appearance of Amelia's secret love child as a tool to be used for further control and humiliation, and so he invites Mark to visit. This move has unintended consequences, sending the film of in a direction that makes it an uncomfortable first date movie.
There's much more to Ruf der Wildgänse, of course. I've yet to mention that Sven is a singing cowboy. If interested, you can enjoy him break into song in the trailer.
The film's German-language Wikipedia entry informs that after her incarceration Amelia is exiled from Manitoba, suggesting that the screenwriters knew nothing about Canadian law.
I've watched Ruf der Wildgänse twice. Next time I chance upon it on YouTube I'll watch it a third time.
01 November 2025
Wild Geese on Film (Part 1): Wild Geese
The first of three addendums to the recent post about Martha Ostenso's 1925 bestselling novel.
My thinking is that the star ratings concern the novel; it's either that or they were left a couple of decades back by computer savvy centenarians who remembered the film from when they were young.
| Montreal Gazette, 21 May 1928 |
What would they have seen?
Judging from surviving stills, "poor wig outfitting" seems fair.
Eve Southern played Judith Gare. That's Anita Stewart as Lind Archer on the right. Of the cast, Russell Simpson, who portrayed Caleb Gare, is hands down the best remembered today. He was cast as Pa Joad in John Ford's The Grapes of Wrath.
| Russell Simpson as Caleb Gare and Belle Bennett as wife Amelia in Wild Geese. |
Returning to those IMDb ratings, I note that no one left an actual review. My thinking is that the one star ratings were left by frustrated high school students looking for a shortcut. This and other Goodreads reviews suggest as much.
In 1985, I work part-time in a Montreal video store. For context, this was the year in which Betamax was suffering death throes. Come autumn, kids who'd previously rented Ghostbusters, Gremlins, Nightmare on Elm Street, and Risky Business abruptly shifted focus to The Natural, the 1984 Barry Levinson film about a middle aged has been who becomes a baseball legend. Set in the early twentieth century, 48-year-old Robert Redford played the lead.
A young man not much older than the kids I was serving, I'd seen The Natural. Much as I like Levinson and Redford, I did not like their collaboration. My issue was wasn't so much with the body rather the ending, which is diametrically opposed to Malamud's perfect, perfectly depressing conclusion.
It's also very over the top.
Let this be a lesson, kids.
Read the book.
31 October 2025
You Only Die Twice on a Harlequin Halloween
| The Man Who Died Twice Sydney Horler Toronto: Harlequin, 1959 |
20 October 2025
Wild Wild Geese
Wild Geese
Martha Ostenso
New York: Dodd, Mead. 1925
There were many, many more printings to come.
In 2009, the year the Dusty Bookcase began, I would not have considered Wild Geese eligible for inclusion. Wild Geese was neither neglected nor forgotten.
It is now.
Look no further than the late New Canadian Library for evidence. An early addition – #18! – the novel was something of an NCL staple. Today, aging copies printed in 2008 await purchase in Penguin Random House's Ontario warehouse.
Wild Geese is a story of a struggling farming family on the prairies. Caleb Gare is the patriarch. Hardworking, cold, cruel, and miserly, he is a character we've seen before. Angela is Caleb's cowed wife. Drained of all joy, she too is familiar. Caleb keeps their four children close, but not to his heart. He sees them as little but unpaid labour and is ever ready to smother all aspirations and dreams in order to keep them on the farm. None have ventured farther than ten miles, except to bring cattle to Nykerk, a larger small town than nearby Yellow Post. Caleb does not allow his wife and children to attend services in the Yellow Post church. He brings home sermons which he alters to serve his purpose.
Twenty-year-old twins Martin and Ellen are the eldest and so have suffered the longest. Martin shares his father's dedication to farming, but nothing more. When not attending to the crops and livestock, he works at improving the various outbuildings. Martin has been salvaging wood and fragments of old windows with the hope of one day constructing a proper home for the family. Ellen is broken. She sees a blurred world through second-hand glasses as she stumbles about, all the while thinking of Malcolm, a boy who once kissed her. Charlie, by far the youngest of the four Gare children, is something of a ghost. As a character, he barely exists, yet is Caleb's favourite. Between the twins and Charlie stands Judith, the problem child. Caleb considers this daughter during a late night survey of his land:
Caleb lifted the lantern and examined the wick. Things would turn out to his liking. He would hold the whip hand. Judith, yes, she was a problem. She had some of his own will, and she hated the soil . . . was beginning to think she was meant for other things . . . getting high notions, was Judith. She would have to be broken. She owed him something . . . owed the soil something. The twins, they would stay—no fear of their deserting. Martin and Ellen would not dare to leave; there was no other place for them. And Amelia, she was easy . . . yes, yes, she was easy, Amelia was!
As a young man he'd pursued Amelia only to place a distant second to gallant Des Jordan. Tragically, Jordan's life was soon cut short by a bull. Unmarried Amelia gave birth to a son who was handed over to Catholic priests. How Amelia ended up Caleb's wife is left up to the imagination. I expect her family's extreme poverty had something to do with the marriage..
| Twenty-four-year-old Martha Ostenso Canadian Singers and Their Songs Edward S. Caswell, ed. Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 1925 |
She watched Lind taking off her trim outer clothing. When she saw that she wore dainty silk underthings she glanced at her more covertly. She made no comment.After both girls had undressed, Judith picked up a string of amber beads Lind had placed on the stand near the bed.There was also a pair of ear rings of the same limpid yellow substance.“Wild honey! Drops of wild honey!” Judith exclaimed in a whisper. “Just the color of you!”
Oh, how knowing the bare earth was, as if it might have a heart and a mind hidden here in the woods. The fields that Caleb had tilled had no tenderness, she knew. But here was something forbiddenly beautiful, secret as one’s own body. And there was something beyond this. She could feel it in the freeness of the air, in the depth of the earth. Under her body there were, she had been taught, eight thousand miles of earth. On the other side, what? Above her body there were leagues and leagues of air, leading like wings—to what? The marvelous confusion and complexity of all the world had singled her out from the rest of the Gares. She was no longer one of them. Lind Archer had come and her delicate fingers had sprung a secret lock in Jude’s being. She had opened like a tight bud. There was no going back now into the darkness.Sven Sandbo, he would be home in May, so they said. Was it Sven she wanted, now that she was so strangely free? Judith looked straight above her through the network of white birch and saw the bulbous white country that a cloud made against the blue. Something beyond Sven, perhaps . . . Freedom, freedom. She dipped her blistered hands down into the clear topaz of the pool, lifted them and dipped them and lifted them, letting the drops slip off the tips of her fingers each time like tiny cups of light. She thought of the Teacher, of her dainty hands and her soft, laughing eyes . . . she came from another life, another world. She would go back there again. Her hands would never be maps of blisters as Jude’s were now, from tugging a calf out of a mud-hole. Jude hid her hands behind her and pressed her breast against the cold ground. Hard, senseless sobs rose in her throat, and her eyes smarted with tears. She was ugly beyond all bearing, and all her life was ugly. Suddenly she was bursting with hatred of Caleb. Her large, strong body lay rigid on the ground, and was suddenly unnatural in that earthy place. Then she relaxed and wept like a woman. . . .
Lind thought how wildly beautiful she looked in the unnatural glamour: the able grace of her tall young body; her defiant shoulders over which her black hair now fell; the proud slope of her throat and breast.
Afterwards Judith came up to Lind in the loft and sat down on the bed, watching the Teacher wash her face and neck and long smooth arms with a fragrant soap. Lind turned and surprised a peculiar look in the girl’s eyes. Judith grew red and leaned back on the pillows.
“It makes my mouth water to watch you do that,” she said. “It’s so—oh, I don’t know what it is—just as if somebody’s stroking my skin."“Why don’t you use this soap, Judith? I have lots of it. I’ve told you so many times to use anything of mine you like. Next time you expect to meet Sven—” Lind lowered her voice and smiled roguishly at Jude—“let me fix you all up, will you? Nice smelling powder and a tiny drop of perfume in your hair. He’ll die of delight, Judie! Just die.”
Judith chuckled and ran her hands over her round breasts.
“It doesn’t take perfume to kill him,” she murmured.
Lind looked at her, stretched full length across the bed. What a beautiful, challenging body she had! With a terrible beginning of consciousness, like a splendid she-animal, nearly grown.“Let me comb your hair, Lind, will you?” Jude asked.The Teacher sat down on the floor beside the bed and Judith loosened the long skeins of bronze hair that fell all about her shoulders. Judith loved to run her fingers through it, and to gather it up in a shining coil above the white nape of Lind’s neck. Lind talked to her about things of the outer world, as she often did when they could be alone together. But presently Ellen’s voice came up from below, the thin, usual protest. Judith fastened Lind’s hair up with a single pin and left her. Lind thought that her step was a little lighter than it had been.
Both young women have romantic relationships with men. Judith and Sven's begins in the backstory; Lind's is with...
I'm hesitating...
This can't be considered a spoiler, right?
He will reap what he sows. The day of reckoning is coming.
Ten months ago, I posted a list of what I considered the best Canadian novels of the 1920s. I listed nine because I'd not yet read Barney Allen's They Have Bodies and The Magpie by Douglas Durkin, Ostenso's future husband.
Still haven't.
In any case, I was certain that one would make it an even ten.
Martha Ostenso beat them to it.
Wild Geese is one of the best Canadian novels of the 1920s or any decade.
Trivia I: Wild Geese bested over 1500 other submissions to win the Dodd-Mead-Famous-Players-Pictorial Review Prize. The US$13,500 awarded Martha Ostenso in 1925 is the equivalent of roughly US$240,000 today.
Trivia II: Wild Geese has enjoyed no less than three movie adaptations, the earliest being the 1927 lost silent film of the same name. The most intriguing is the second, Ruf der Wildgänse (1961), which IMDb claims is the first Austrian movie to be filmed almost entirely in Canada.
I don't doubt it.
The novel was last adapted in 2001, as the made for Canadian made for TV movie After the Harvest starring Sam Sheppard.
Object: An attractive hardcover in printed boards, I really like the endpapers:
I purchased my jacketless copy for roughly fifteen years ago. I can't quite remember where, but I do recall paying one dollar.
Access: The novel first appeared in the August and September 1925 numbers of Pictorial Review.
That autumn, Wild Geese was published in hardcover by McClelland & Stewart (Canada) and Dodd Mead (United States). Hodder & Stoughton's British edition appeared as The Passionate Flight, the novel's working title.
Wild Geese is still available Penguin Random House, but there's no need to give Bertelsmann SE & Co KGaA any more of your money; plenty of used copies are listed online at prices ranging from C$4.00 (the 1989 NCL edition) to £77.00 (first UK edition, sans jacket). The best buy is a copy of the 1925 McClelland & Stewart first Canadian edition, avec jacket, at $13.00.
In Canada, the novel entered the public domain in 2014. It can be read here – gratis – through the wonderful faded page.
There have been several translations: Norwegian (Graagass), German (Ruf der Wildgänse), Danish (Vildgæs), Spanish (Almas sometidas), Polish (Krzyk dzikich gęsi), and Slovinian (Klic divjih gosi),
I read Wild Geese for the 1925 Club, the tenth anniversary club of clubs dedicated to reading and reviewing books published in a specific year.
Remarkably, of the 43 books from 1920s that have been covered on this blog over the years, Wild Geese is only is only the second to have been published in 1925. The other is:
