Tag Archives: Non Fiction

Review | The Butler Speaks, Charles MacPherson

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coverI often wish I had a butler. Blame it on P.G. Wodehouse — who wouldn’t want a lovely man like Jeeves around to fix all the random scrapes you get yourself into? Take a look at Smithers from the Archie comics, or Mr. Carson from Downton Abbey. One of my favourite books of all time is Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Remains of the Day. Butlers have always seemed almost otherworldly, mostly unseen and unheard, but somehow always around to keep things running smoothly.

In real life, of course, a butler is slightly beyond my budget. In real life, I open my own door and hang my guests’ coats. Which is probably why I end up rarely entertaining guests at all. After all, what if I forget the sugar bowl when setting out the tea tray? Or worse, introduce people to each other in the wrong way? Fortunately for the etiquette-clueless like myself, Charles MacPherson has written The Butler Speaks, a handy, comprehensive guide to etiquette and housekeeping.

In all seriousness, it can be rather intimidating to enter a fancy restaurant and have no clue how to act. I grew up in a private all girls school where one of our home ec classes featured a lesson on proper table setting, and which piece of cutlery goes with which dish. The idea was that as daughters of politicians, CEOs and the like, and as future powerhouses ourselves someday (an alumna of my school went on to become President of the Philippines), we may be placed in situations where we’d have to choose from a dozen spoons and forks, some important dignitary across the table from us, and we must know how to comport ourselves. (Pro tip: Start from the outside in.)

MacPherson’s book is full of good tips. Even if, like me, you’re more likely to have beer and nachos in a pub than caviar at a state dinner, it’s always good to know how to introduce your boss to a potential important stakeholder. At the very least, it’s a lovely treat to set out proper afternoon tea for your friends, and really create an experience of luxury. MacPherson even includes some historical information on the roles of servants within a household, which is fascinating to a Downton Abbey fan like myself.

Then of course, even more applicable since most of us don’t have servants at all, the book contains tips on vacuuming, doing laundry, cleaning floors, and other such household chores. All drudge work I doubt any of us cares for, but seriously, doing them to the standards of a proper butler is a fun exercise in the imagination — not only are they useful tips, but we can also use them to imagine ourselves into a Downton Abbey sort of life. We may be on Team Servant within the Downton Abbey set, but it’s still a bit more of an adventure than simply cleaning the house in between work days.

Just as a proper butler always appears presentable, the book itself is lovely. Simple illustrations and an understated gold and cream colour scheme reflect the elegance of MacPherson’s theme, and make this a butler of a book.

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Thank you to Random House Canada for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Review | Inward Journey: The Life of Lawren Harris, James King

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9781771022064Lawren Harris is my favourite Group of Seven artist. When I first moved to Canada, the three things I wanted to know were: what is Canadian food, what is Canadian literature, and what is Canadian art? I still remember the blank looks I’d get at the question about Canadian (not American!) food. Some blank stares as well with my other two questions, but inevitably, questions about Canadian art led to the Group of Seven. And while looking through images of Group of Seven works, I found myself always drawn to the works of Lawren Harris.

Later on, I would learn that he believed in theosophy, that he deliberately used light to direct one’s eye toward the divine. At the time, however, I just knew that I loved the cleanness of his lines and the starkness of his colours. His images were bold, graphic, compelling, and when I decided to buy a piece of art to hang on my wall, a framed poster of Lawren Harris’ Mt. Lefroy was the first thing I bought.

So when I learned that Thomas Allen was publishing a biography of Harris, the title went right on my TBR list. Inward Journey by James King is  an extensively researched, utterly comprehensive overview of Harris’ life. On one hand, it’s almost too comprehensive — in the author’s attempt to write the definitive text on the artist, the biography sometimes gets bogged down with details, and the narration seems more about providing information than about hooking the reader in.

On the other hand, while not a page-turner, at least for this reader, Inward Journey is a great resource for anyone wanting to find out about Harris’ life. King writes in an objective, journalistic style, presenting the facts of Harris’ life, his marital problems, his personality flaws and his fascination with theosophy, and withholding judgement. As well, King talks not just about Harris as an individual, but rather about the artist’s role within the context of the Group of Seven and the history of Canadian art. There’s a wealth of fascinating information in the book, and certainly, it’s great to see the extent of Harris’ influence on history.

The book itself as well is just a beautiful addition to the collection of any Lawren Harris fan. Printed on glossy paper with full colour reproductions of Harris’ paintings and other artworks throughout, Inward Journey is just a beautiful book, an invitation to flip through time and again, and just appreciate the works.

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Thank you to Thomas Allen Ltd for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Review | Confessions of a Fairy’s Daughter, Alison Wearing

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coverWhen a former boyfriend meets her father for the first time, “his hands flittering around in the air like manic butterflies,” Alison Wearing smiles proudly and says, “That’s not a stereotype. That’s my dad.” [p. 9] Confessions of a Fairy’s Daughter: Growing up with a Gay Dad
is a heartfelt, honest memoir about a young girl dealing with the discovery that her father is gay. LGBTQ rights still have quite an uphill battle these days, but Alison Wearing’s father had an even more difficult time of it. Among the most fascinating chapters in the book deal with the Toronto gay scene in the 1980s, including the horrific story of brutal police raids of gay bath houses. “What have the police got against cleanliness?” Margaret Atwood quips. [p. 106] While more about a family’s personal struggle than the wider social context, Wearing’s memoir has some sharp insights into gay life in Toronto, particularly from her father.

“If I’d been born ten years earlier, it’s very possible that I would never have come out at all,” he said in response to something I had asked about the timing of it, his being in the vanguard of the gay revolution. “And if I’d been born ten years later, most probably I would never have married.” [p. 162]

Wearing’s father has had a long time to think about his sexuality, and his tentative forays into accepting it wholly, even with a wife and children back home, are portrayed with sensitivity. On one hand, you can’t help but cheer him on, as he meets other gay fathers and realizes he isn’t the only man who married a woman in order to conform to social norms. Wearing writes about how gay fathers were ostracized even within the gay community, as if their marriage to women were a betrayal of the gay movement. Her father’s struggle to accept himself and his ultimate decision to live openly as a gay man are both courageous decisions, particularly in the politically charged atmosphere of the eighties, and it’s painful to read how he is rejected even by some of his closest family members.

On the other hand, and Wearing’s sensitivity to multiple points of view aids in this, her father’s decision to come out of the closet affected not just him, but his family as well. In some ways, Wearing is lucky because both her parents are very loving and have always taken care of her and her siblings. As a schoolfriend whose parents are constantly fighting points out, “So your father’s a faggot, big whoop. At least he’s not a lying, cheating, son-of-a-bitch, drunken asshole.” [p. 100] Still, Wearing’s father’s homosexuality does cause the end of his marriage, and Wearing writes with great sensitivity about her experience as the daughter of divorced parents.

It never occurred to me to hate Dad for being gay […] What I did hate was the Greyhound bus, that long sprint on the dog’s back to and from Toronto. […] I hated the shame my mother wore in her eyes […] But more than anything else, I hated all the stories I needed to invent about my life, the dancing pink elephant in the room that I spent my adolescence trying to conceal. [p. 118 – 119]

A few chapters later, Wearing says that the gay part is incidental; it is the parenting part that is important. And in some ways, her experience is touchingly similar to other kids whose parents have separated for other reasons. The elephant she tries to conceal may be dancing and pink, but many families have their own elephants to hide. In this way, Wearing takes what at first seems like a very difficult experience to imagine — how would it feel to have a gay father? — and makes it familiar and relatable. When she wonders why her father “can’t keep being normal during the week and just go to Toronto to be gay on the weekends” [p. 86], it’s a poignant appeal to at least the appearance of normal family life, while still allowing her father (partial) freedom to be happy.

Possibly the most compelling figure in this story is Wearing’s mother, and to the author’s credit, she gives her mother’s less glamourous, less politically charged, story its due. Wearing even includes a few chapters with her mother’s point of view — sadly, it isn’t quite as extensive as Wearing’s own account or her father’s, but that is due more to the mother’s desire for privacy than anything. While Wearing’s father grappled with his sexuality, her mother was left to be the anchor for the children. Thus, when Wearing’s mother started dating another man, Wearing was furious: “Terrified, actually. Convinced she was going to disappear too.” [p. 124]

Wearing’s mother was the source of stability for her children, giving them something to cling on to even when their father spent a lot of time away from home. To Wearing’s credit, she is aware of the unfairness of her behaviour towards her mother.

It wouldn’t have dawned on me to create such drama over one of my dad’s departures. He had come and gone for so long, I never imagined I had any control over his whereabouts. And he had always had a social life outside the house. But if the double standard drove my mother “round the bend,” she never pointed it out to me. [p. 125 – 126]

This, too, is a form of heroism, much quieter than the courage displayed by Wearing’s father in coming out, but no less important. I only wish I got to hear more of the story from Wearing’s mother’s perspective.

Confessions of a Fairy’s Daughter is a tender, often amusing memoir. Wearing’s affection for her parents, and her desire to understand them, shine through and add emotional weight to their stories. I can’t even begin to comprehend the struggles gay individuals face today, never mind in the 1980s when homosexuality was just starting to fight for acceptance. But in Wearing’s book at least, love seems to go quite a long way.

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Thank you to Random House Canada for an advance reading copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.