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Kathryn Carter, ed. The small details
of LIFE: 20 diaries by women in Canada, 1830-1996. Toronto: University of
Toronto Press, 2002. Pp. 488.
The small details of LIFE: 20 diaries by
women in Canada, 1830-1996,
is an ambitious project. In her acknowledgements, Kathryn Carter identifies
the market niche this collection hopes to fill: realizing that Ano book featured a geographically wide
range of Canadian women@ (p. ix) as she compiled Diaries in
English by Women in Canada, 1753-1995: An Annotated Bibliography (1997),
Carter set out to prepare a collection that would address this gap. The result
is a bulk of a book that includes a substantial introduction, excerpts from
twenty journals composed between 1830 and 1996 by women Awho are Canadian or who wrote in what is
currently called Canada@ (p. 4), succinct introductions to these
twenty diarists by nineteen researchers, and a photograph of each diarist
and/or pages from her journal. The selected excerpts describe domestic and
social activities as well as travel by women who resided in Canada West,
several provinces, and territories, although neither Newfoundland or the Yukon
are represented. Not represented, too, are women=s diary entries in languages other than English.
In her ample introduction, Carter
announces that this collection Aseeks to enrich the history of Canada
with the voices of >unknown= women who lived from coast to coast@ (p. 4). The hitherto unknown voices
include Sarah Welch Hill, who immigrated to Canada West in 1843 with an abusive
husband and two children under the age of two; Constance Kerr Sissons, who
lived in Ottawa, Rainy River, and finally Toronto during her ninety-seven years
B and who remarkably maintained a journal
for almost seventy-five of those; and Mina Wylie, who, at the exuberant age of
twenty-two in the winter of 1911, undertook a journey from Ottawa to Europe via
New York City. Both Sissons= and Wylie=s diaries are held in private collections and are
previously unpublished B circumstances that explain why these
particular voices are unknown.
Less unknown is the voice of Edna
Staebler, who may be familiar to many readers and cooks. Pioneer of the now
popular genre of creative nonfiction, Staebler gained a culinary audience with
the publication of her Aschmecks cookbooks@ compiled between 1968 and 1987. Among
other arguably recognizable voices in small details are those of Dorothy
Duncan MacLennan (artist, recipient of the Governor General=s Award, memoirist, biographer, and
travel writer) and Marian Engel (novelist, short story writer, and freelance
writer, who died much too young in 1985). What small details contributes
in these cases is previously unknown and thus fresh material articulated by
these familiar voices. Indeed, Staebler=s 1995 entry delightfully describes her attending,
without her hearing aid, the ceremony at which she received the Order of
Canada, while the excerpts from Engel allow us a glimpse into both her
enthusiasm for the difficult writing life (AHow gorgeous to be wakened by an idea rather than an
alarm clock, even if the idea fades@ B p. 433) and her attempts to redefine
herself once she accepted, in 1976, that her marriage was unfixable. ALet landscape do what Valium doesn=t,@ she reminds herself (p. 429).
The excerpts range in length from a
compact three pages to twenty-four, with the average length being a dozen or so
pages. At times, these excerpts offer little more than an enumeration of daily
activities and duties fulfilled. Sarah Crease=s entries read like truncated lists. A matriarch in
late-nineteenth-century Victoria=s
society, Crease enumerated rather than described events and people; thus her
entry for early September 1878 reads: A1st
S Dean Mason@ and A4th W H.M.S. Daring left Esquimalt Harbor
for Valpo [Valparaiso] Capt Hammer@
(p. 158). Similarly, the excerpt by Elsie Rogstad Jones of Dewberry, Alberta,
who maintained a diary between 1937 and 1947 when she was in her twenties,
offers little description but notes domestic chores completed and domestic
situations: AAugust 3, 1943 B Wed. [son] Jimmy is really sick to day has the
measles for sure Gramp & I canned 7 qts peas and 5 of beans 2 pints
greens. Was tired at nite@ (p. 376). If small details had
consisted only of scores of pages of such entries, reading the collection would
have become taxing despite being forearmed with Carter=s pronouncement that the selections were not made
with literary expectations (pp. 8-9). Crease=s and Rogstad Jones= pithy entries as well as those by Sarah Welch Hill
and Dorothy Duncan MacLennan lack narrative momentum and mention so many
unfamiliar (and usually undocumented) names that reading becomes formidable.
Yet this type of entry is wisely kept to a minimum in small details.
Indeed, Barbara Powell, who edited the Crease material, alternates one month of
entries by this mother of few words, with one month of entries for the same
time period by Sarah=s more garrulous daughter, Susan. The
seemingly truncated entries also remind us of how provocative the absence of a
fully developed narrative may be. Amidst Sarah Welch Hill=s comments about washing day and letters
received and sermons heard when she lived, during the later 1840s, in Hope
Township, Canada West, her terse words about her husband=s Aconstant abuse@ (p. 86) resonate.
At times the diary selections provide a
substantial probing of a personally significant experience. During the 1926/27
school year at the Roman Catholic Mount Saint Vincent Academy in Halifax,
seventeen-year-old Mary Dulhanty sporadically made entries in a notebook.
Nevertheless, she created a substantial record of her experience at a three-day
retreat conducted by mission priest Father Knox. Mirroring a
stream-of-consciousness style, this record reveals not only the influence Knox
wielded over young Catholic women=s
understanding of their roles but also Dulhanty=s frantic attempts to grasp the preacher=s strictures. For the most part, however,
the selections in small details record rather than probe, describe
briefly not copiously, and observe the external rather than confess and emote.
We may observe, however, a shift from the essentially dispassionate recording
of events to confessional writing because of the overarching chronological
structure of the collection. We begin with adventurous traveller Frances
Ramsay Simpson=s writing from 1830 and conclude with
Staebler=s from 1996; thus provided is a
trajectory of women=s diary writing in Canada during the
nineteenth and twentieth centuries.
This collection is also organized
thematically. Materials are classified under one of six topics that commence
with ATurbulent Beginnings,@ followed by AConflict and Confusion,@ AHesitation and Pause,@ AExploration,@ ALove, Loss, and Work,@ and AReflective Endings.@ This organizational decision, selected to mirror
the kunstlerroman, provides a measure of structural unity and diversity B that is, Carter=s key interest. Committed to the principle of
diversity in writing and uninterested in aesthetic judgement, Carter includes
selections that range from the nineteenth-century sea travels of the intrepid
Amelia Holder (who, at age eleven, sailed with her father to Spain, Ireland,
and South America) to the struggles of housewives such as the headstrong
Caroline Alice Porter, who poignantly observes that Athis life is very short, changes and vacant chairs@ (p. 239) to the romantic and
professional concerns of teachers such as the British Columbia-based Nagle
sisters (Susan and Sarah), the Alberta-based Sophie Alice Puckette, who
temporarily taught in Colfax, Washington, in 1908, and Phoebe McInnes, who
bicycled to work in the Fernridge district of Langley, British Columbia.
Yet, in its ambitious desire
to be all things B to range across time and Canadian space,
to be organized both chronologically and thematically, to present Athe extraordinary daily achievements of
allegedly ordinary women@ (p. 4) B small details overextends itself.
Individually, each packaged introduction, excerpt, and photograph allows us a
glimpse into the private person. Collectively, however, the entries of small
details are oddly unbalanced in spite of the dual organizational
structure. The excerpt from the 1922 travel diaries of the prolific Miriam
Green Ellis is curiously short, given the prolixity of this Western journalist=s writings and especially when it is set
against the lengthy entry by Sarah Welch Hill. The introduction to Dorothy
Choate Herriman mentions her romanticism but not religion despite this
Ontario-based poet=s 1932/33 journal being suffused with
religious imagery.
But these are small details,
and small details significantly introduces us to fresh voices via
meticulously edited entries. And, by offering us introductions to and diary
entries by twenty women, small details makes available previously untold
lives B and that is no small matter.
Connie Brim
University College of the Cariboo
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