Movie review: Away from Her (2007)

Away from Her (2007. D: Sarah Polley. Gordon Pinsent, Julie Christie, Olympia Dukakis)

Fiona's developing Alzheimer's results in her going into a long term care home. Grant has a very difficult time adjusting to this. At the home, Fiona starts a relationship with Aubrey, a fellow patient. His wife Marian takes him out of the home because she can't afford to keep him there without selling her house. Fiona becomes depressed. Grant comes to ask Marian to bring Aubrey back for a visit. She refuses. Later, Grant and Marian have sex. Marian sells her house, and brings Aubrey back to the home. When Grant is about to bring him to Fiona, Fiona has a lucid spell, as predicted by the nurse, and recalls that recently Grant was reading her Auden's Letters from Iceland. Grant is ecstatic that she remembers him. Fadeout. And that's the plot, based on an Alice Munro story.

Sarah Polley's adaptation of Munro's story, with its multiple layers and constant moving back and forth in time, is brilliant. The film mimics the unexpected and confusing rememberings that Alzheimer's patients are said to experience. The editing helps, with repetitive establishing shots and subtle shifts in colour, sound, and editing. The three leads are very good. The characters are all vulnerable, and it's that vulnerability that I think makes the film convincing.

Christie's performance as Fiona is wonderful. She changes from knowing that she is deteriorating, to repeating increasingly inappropriate social phrases, to being barely aware of where she is. Pinsent as Grant has captured the essence of a man used to having the supports of career, social rank, and a satisfying marriage, who realises that he can barely survive on his own, and must accept a diminished role in his own life. He doesn't realise that he has been defined by his surroundings and relationships all his life; he has believed that he was somehow self-defined. When Fiona loses her self to Alzheimer's, Grant loses his self too. He says he could not ever bear to be away from her, that's why he married her. In fact, he couldn't be himself without her; and now he must learn how do that. Dukakis as the no-nonsense wife-caregiver, who copes by pretending she is self-sufficient, knows she too needs comfort, even if only the illusion of a brief connection in bed. In the end, we have only ourselves. Those we love, and who love us, no matter how close we are, will always be apart from us.

Yet the movie isn't quite satisfying. It's a depressing story, and has its strongest moments at the beginning, when Fiona charts her own descent into non-self, and decides, while she still can, that it's time for her to go. It's Grant who can't accept the loss, who hopes that the stay in the home will be a short one, who wants to believe that Fiona is just being her quirky self, that therapy will bring her back. Towards the end, as he comes to accept that Fiona must move to the second floor (where the end stage patients are housed), we see that he will somehow survive in his new role as mere visitor. When at the end Fiona has one of those lucid times that the nurse has told Grant she will have, he accepts her embrace, blissed out by her mere presence. Is this a note of hope or of resignation? A recognition that we must accept small mercies gratefully, or the delusion that things will return to normal? Or a setup for even greater heartbreak? The ambiguities arise from the vagueness of Grant's character. The movie doesn't give us the answers, nor should it, but it should give us a clearer sense of how Grant has changed. ***

The Shadow Riders (L'Amour, 1982)

 

Louis L’Amour. The Shadow Riders. (1982) Colonel Ashford believes the South can raise again, with himself at its head. To make it happen, he’s assembled a gang of thirty-some drifters, mostly criminals. They attack and loot ranches on their way to Mexico, where Ashford expects to build a new Confederate Army, attack Texas, and then sweep across the South, etc and so and so forth.

Problem is, he’s attacked a Traven ranch, and then kidnapped some women whom he plans to sell in exchange for weapons. One of them is Mac Traven’s fiancee Kate Connery. Mac, his brother Dal and their Uncle Happy Jack trail Ashford’s wagon train through southeast Texas to the final showdown.

The copy I have touts the CBS TV movie (with Tom Selleck, Sam Elliot et al) based on the book, but it’s another L’Amour tale told with his usual skill. This one’s a bit thin on character, has useful backstory inserted where the plot demands it, and so on. Enjoyable for the L’Amour fan, but merely average. **½

Buckskin Run (L'Amour, 1981)

Louis L’Amour. Buckskin Run. (1981) Collection of short stories, which display all of L’Amour’s plots and characters. I enjoyed reading them. L’Amour understood the genre he was writing, and strove to make them historically accurate in setting and events. Here, he added brief stories of real people and events, which show that fiction’s need for plausibility tends to make reality stranger.

The title refers to a creek. A dispute between a settler (claiming the land legally) and the local cattle baron (pasturing his cattle illegally on government land) focuses on the water and grazing around it, complicated by rumours of gold and old unsolved murders, and of course the romantic subplot. Typical L’Amour tale.

** to *** 

Kilrone (L'Amour, 1966)

Louis L’Amour. Kilrone. (1966) Former army Captain Kilrone walks into an army post with news of the Bannocks assembling to attack Colonel Mellett’s column, and then the post itself. They’re being led by Medicine Dog. The commander in charge is Major Paddock, who believes that Kilrone is his rival for his wife’s affections. Dave Sproule, the owner of most of Hog Town, the nearby settlement that caters to off-duty soldiers’ needs and wants, has his own goals.

That’s the setup. The story moves swiftly, telling mostly of how Kilrone plans for defending the post, and how they survive the attack. Cross-cuts to the other strands of the tale give us the necessary overview, and also raise and maintain tension. The romances are resolved as they should be, and the villains get theirs.

A well-done early L’Amour which lacks only the polish, nuance and richer characterisation of the later ones. **½ 

Come Home Charlie. . . (Delderfield, 1969)

 R. F. Delderfield. Come Home Charlie, and Face Them. (1969) Charlie Pritchard is posted to Cadwallader’s Bank in Penmadoc. He rooms at the bank manager’s, whose daughter Ida likes him, and beds him, but thinks he lacks gumption. They enjoy each other’s company until Ida runs off to London.

Office politics at the bank are nasty. Charlie’s only escape is Delphine at the Rainbow Café. She and her brother Beppo persuade Charlie that robbing the bank is feasible, and most of the tale informs us of the trio’s plans and step-by-step progress towards their goal. It all unravels in the end of course, but Ida returns just in time to help Charlie put the pieces back together, one of which is his discovery that he likes her more than well enough to marry her, and not just from gratitude, either. There’s a satisfying amount of poetic justice, too. All’s well that ends well: The villains are punished, and Charlie is rescued by a good woman.

Charlie makes a convincing narrator. The story’s told from his vantage point near the end of his life, and he knows well enough how little he understood himself when he first arrived in Penmadoc. The novel is a coming-of-age story; the crime led him into self-awareness via a detour through semi-valid delusions about his control of the situation.

Recommended of you can find a copy. ***

Turncoat (Gutteridge 2003)

 Don Gutteridge. Turncoat (2003) First in a series. Upper Canada, 1837. A government sympathiser and informer may have been murdered. Lt Governor Sir John Colborne sends Ensign Marc Edwards to Crawford’s Corners to investigate. The local Sheriff assists, various inhabitants assist and obstruct, sometimes both, endemic smuggling both misleads and redirects the investigation, political and personal animosities interfere, and Beth, the victim’s daughter-in-law attracts Edwards’ romantic attention. Their courtship will be the backstory that ties the series together.

After a rather lengthy exposition, the story picks up speed. New pieces of the puzzle raise more questions than they answer. The style is efficient, and improves as the narrative proceeds. Gutteridge has taken care to research the period thoroughly, and creates a convincing ambiance. The solution is satisfactory logically, socially, and psychologically. Ensign Edwards is a nice young fellow, not too good to be true, and perhaps not quite as casually patronising as an Englishman of his class would be. The secondary characters are believable enough to carry the story. This was a second run at reading the book. After the first chapter or two, it drew me in, and I ended wanting to read more of Marc Edwards’ adventures. I’ll have to keep an eye out for the other books in the series.

Nicely done historical fiction. **½

Late Georgian Humor: Thomas Hood's Comic Annuals.

 Thomas Hood. Comic Annual, Vols I, II, & III.(1830, 1831, 1832) An odd set of books. Bound in board with marbled paper, printed on excellent pre-woodpulp paper, with engravings, slightly foxed. The prose pieces and verses are crammed with puns – Hood was famous for them Many of the pieces clearly allude to mild scandals and other concerns of the time. Many of the engravings present visual puns.  Most of the jokes and puns sound rather lame to 21st century ears, but tastes change, and this series was intended to amuse the whole family, so it had to be mild in its satire, and wholesome in its humour.

Annuals of all kinds became an English Christmas gift tradition. Peter and I received several during our time in England and after. Wear on these copies of Hood’s Annual indicates frequent (re)reading. According to his Wiki entry, the Annual was published until 1842; Hood made a decent living as a writer. I inherited these copies from Uncle Paul via Peter, and am glad to have them. Contents * to ****

Kings & Queens of England (Delderfield, 1966)

 Eric R. Delderfield. The Kings and Queens of England. (1966) Just what the title says, the monarchs listed in order, with dates and other statistics, and a brief summary of their reign. The author claims to have avoided bias as much as possible, and I think he’s succeeded. Portraits of most of them reproduced rather badly: halftone on plain paper tends to lose detail. A useful little reference book, so I’ll keep it. **½

The Golden Egg (Leon, 2013)

 Donna Leon. The Golden Egg (2013). The deaf-mute helper at the laundry that does Guido and Paola Brunetti’s dry-cleaning dies of apparent suicide. The necessary bureaucratic protocols fail to turn up any record of his existence. His mother gives conflicting and unverifiable accounts of their history. The neighbours, who know much of what actually happened, refuse to tell Brunetti what he needs to know. He eventually digs away the layers of  deception that victimised the man, but decides to withhold the final piece of the puzzle from the guilty person, because he cannot prove their guilt. But Brunetti knows that their plans will be thwarted when the evidence they believe will prove their claim to wealth will fail. The solution explains the title.

The casual corruption of Italian political and economic life is once again both backdrop and cause of the troubles and pains that these people suffer and inflict on each other. Leon’s great talent is imagining rounded characters: The walk-on parts are more than cardboard cutouts, and the main players are so fully imagined that we feel we would recognise them on the street.

Recommended. ****

Lapham's Quarterly: Crimes and Punishments (Spring 2009)

 Lapham’s Quarterly II/2, Spring 2009. Crimes and Punishments. A difficult read, consisting almost entirely of firsthand accounts. Two crimes figure most: the con, and murder. Mere theft is a distant third. Punishments have usually been horrendous, even for what we nowadays may think of as petty crimes. But they didn’t deter crime, which is as much an effect of social and economic factors as individual propensity.

Simply put, one can only choose from the options available, and for too many people too much of the time, theft, robbery and worse have been the best available choices. If the opportunity cost is low, even people enjoying economic and social security will be tempted. Systemic corruption may make the legal or ethical choice less attractive and even dangerous. When divorce entails severe financial or social costs, even murder may look like the better option. In short, crime occurs at the intersection of more or less limited choice and individual need and desire.

Most crime is rather mundane. The professional criminal, who plies crime as a chosen trade or profession, is the exception. So is the narcissist who commits crimes for pathological satisfaction. Dr Moriarty makes for dramatic story-telling, but there are few examples in real life. Ted Bundy’s are rare. But the rarer the event, the bigger the headlines, so that most (perhaps all) of us believe crime is both more common and more violent than it actually is.

Rare and extraordinary crimes are more likely to be recorded, which is why this collection is a difficult read. Most of the selections show us that depravity and greed have no limits. Nevertheless, recommended. ****

Poem: The Sea Son's Eyes Are Blue and Green

THE SEA SON'S EYES ARE BLUE AND GREEN
GOLDEN FISHES SWIM THEREIN
A poem for many voices

stars shape faces in his head, burst
coalesce and grow like trees
an old man's face
looms in the branches
see, see his hair
entangled in the boughs
see, see his hair
entangled in the branches of anemones

stars burst on the rocking water

I am scattered over the water
my fragments are scattered over the water
my face is entangled in the pattern the waves make
I am reborn in every motion of the water

stars burst in the rocking water

he gathers them into his head
they glitter
in the darkness
they blaze like the sun
that shattered on the water and became stars
bursting in the sea son's head, in silence
that touched the inside of his face
and grew like a tree

In that other place where these things happened
I sat me down by the waters of language and wept,
For behold, I had no face, my name was taken from me
And given to the wind.

[1973; publ. in 39 Below, Edmonton]

Politics As Lived: The Life (Paikin, 2001)

Steve Paikin. The Life (2001) Paikin has interviewed many politicians. Most want to serve the public good; Paikin admires both that willingness and the more or less cheerful acceptance of the slings and arrows of outraged citizens’ complaints.

Paikin knows that there are villains, venal timeservers, vain seekers of applause and such, but those aren’t the subject of this book. What we get is an informal political history of the times when  these politicians served. Paikin interviewed the politicians and also the back-room players, commentators, pollsters and others that make their living in politics, and so gives us multiple points of view. David Lougheed, Alexa McDonough, Bob Rae, Frances Lankin, Brian Mulroney, Allan Gregg, are just a few of the people we meet.

Paikin avoids analysis and comment. He tells the stories of these people as completely as he can. The result is a very human story of Canadian politics.

Politics is an unavoidable and I think necessary part of our communal life. We are a social species; rank and status both create and control conflict. Managing that conflict is the function of politics. Democracy makes for a messier form of politics, where power becomes a means and not an end. Well, that’s the theory, and by their own accounts, supported by the testimony of the other players, the politicians profiled here do want power more for what they can do when they have it than for its own sake. Paikin’s book shows why, so far, Canada hasn’t suffered the rule of a tyrant.

His book also shows that democratic participation in government goes beyond voting,  that paying attention to what the politicos are up to is the only way to help them govern us.

A good book, recommended. ****

Dogsbody: There was one of the clan at every important (an unimportant) event in history.

 E. O. Parrott. The Dogsbody Papers (1988) The history of the Dogsbody clan from prehistoric time to the present, told through a variety of snips and bits. Parrott assembled them into this book. Written by several people, which makes for a variety of style and tone, and so prevents what could otherwise have declined into tedious repetition. They amount to a satire on history, on English exceptionalist assumptions, and on human foibles generally, mostly sex, money-grubbing and covering your ass. Very English absurdities, which I think limits the appeal, but I’m susceptible, so I enjoyed it. Not quite as surreal as Monty Python, but the same genre. Recommended. **** 

The Trial of God (Wiesel, 1986)

 Eli Wiesel. The Trial of God (1986) Following a pogrom in 1649, a trial was held in Shamgorod. God was accused of permitting or even encouraging evil. That's the setup. Wiesel, survivor of Auschwitz, wrote this play based on an actual trial of God held in the concentration camp. Three rabbis indicted God for permitting His children to be massacred.

In the play, three itinerant actors arrive at an inn and offer to play a Purimschpiel. The innkeeper proposes a Trial of God instead. The innkeeper will be Prosecutor, his daughter will be chief witness, and a Stranger will defend. I don’t know how much the play echoes the trial Wiesel witnessed in the concentration camp. Most of the action is actually working up to state the indictment. Outside the Inn, the villagers are working themselves up to finish the job. The village priest tries to persuade the Jews to flee, but they are intent on their trial. At the end, the Stranger pulls out a mask and puts it on: It’s the mask of Satan.

So, is God capricious? Does God not only permit but encourage evil? Are the Christians mere instruments of God, or do they bear the primary guilt? These and other questions are put or implied, but never answered. They add up to the question that we all want answered: Why is there evil in the world?

A difficult play, in part because the action is the decision to act, to indict God, to act out the trial, to judge His failure to act. But also because the context is a pogrom, unfinished, and threatening the actors. While reading it, I tried to imagine staging it. It would not be easy. I’ll have to read it again. ***

The Collected Stories of Philip K. Dick (1987)

Philip K. Dick. The Collected Stories of Philip K. Dick. Volume 1. (1987) Subtitled The Short Happy Life of the Brown Oxford.

Philip K. Dick is one of my favourite authors in any genre. His ability to develop a what-if that can be stated in a simple sentence amazes with every reading and re-reading. Such as the subtitle story, which is exactly what its title states.

His take on life is that the universe a huge and scary place. It’s a miracle that each one of us survives, and it will or would be a miracle if humankind survives any contact with any aliens we might encounter or who might wish to visit us. But humans are inventive enough to mess up and with their own and other people’s lives. Three examples:

Beyond Lies the Wub: The Captain of the spaceship discovers too late that the wub they’re transporting is more than a sentient blob of jelly.

The Builder: Elwood builds a boat with the help of his son Toddy. Neither he nor we readers know why until a few moments after he’s finished.

Colony: A terrifying riff on shape-shifting.

Recommended. ****

Age of Folly (Lapham, 2016)

Lewis H. Lapham.  Age of Folly (2016) Subtitled America Abandons Its Democracy. Published before Trump won the 2016 election, with essays from 1990 to 2015.

But depressingly relevant. And essential for making sense of what’s happened since 2016.

And I think that’s about all that needs to be said about this book. Recommended.

****

Footnote: In the Atlantic Magazine of January 2025, David Brooks has published an acute analysis of how the attempt to create a meritocracy has had unexpected consequences, one of them being the rage against elites that’s translated into the populism that elected Trump. Brooks spends a couple of pages explaining how the failed experiment could be transformed into a winning one, but I think he’s a tad naive politically. 

When Blood Lies (Richards, 2016)

 Linda L. Richards. When Blood Lies (2016) A nicely done puzzle that begins when Nicole Charles buys an old desk and finds some ancient wine in a secret compartment. There’s more: money-laundering, attempted murder, etc, and a handsome young man. Charles is a gossip columnist who wants to be promoted to real reporting; this provides a subplot that points to a series. I haven’t found any other of Richards’s books.

This book was on of an easy-reading series published by Orca Book Publishers. The style makes for a quick read. Good for when you haven’t much energy for close attention. **½

Leacock: Literary Lapses (1910)

Stephen Leacock. Literary Lapses (1910/1957) With an Afterword by Robertson Davies. Leacock’s first published work, displaying a range from nonsense to witty comment to slice of life to sharp satire. I think his reputation as the friendly, slyly comic uncle is superficial, based on his mastery of absurdly logical nonsense. Maybe it’s my curmudgeonly disposition, but I think that his satire is underrated. It’s delivered in the kind of deadpan style that disguises its bite, but his hatred for greed, hypocrisy, economic malfeasance and social cruelty is more than clear enough. I think that Sunshine Sketches and Arcadian Adventures are his greatest and most enduring works.

Davies provides an interesting account of the book’s publishing history. I enjoyed his notes on the range of Leacock’s humour.

I enjoyed this reread. This reissue is part of McClelland & Stewart’s New Canadian Library, now out of print. M&S featured Canadian art on the covers, David Milne’s “Billboards” here. Recommended. ** to **** 

Dick Whittington - What Really Happened (Sitwell, 1945)

 Osbert Sitwell. The True Story of Dick Whittington (1946) My great-aunt Dolly gave me this book in 1949. I wonder whether she read it first. The rhyme of Dick Whittington and his cat was one of our favourites, and she no doubt thought that this version would suit us. Sitwell has used the story to satirise the rise of the money economy and the worship of money. It’s not a children’s book, although an alert middle schooler would understand it well enough, and perhaps shape his economic and political attitudes accordingly.

Sitwell tells how Whittington advances in his career, selling arms to foreign nations so that they can liberate each other. The cat figures prominently in his first successes. He marries well, but his social-climbing wife finds the cat an inconvenient appendage to the household, especially after Dick is appointed Lord Mayor of London. She (sweetly) encourages Whittington to send the cat to a series of old cat homes, at ever greater distances from London. The cat finds its way back to its beloved master every time.

The story does not end happily. I can’t recall reading it in1949, but if I did, it must have had its intended effect, since I too deplore the monetising of every aspect of our economy. 

Recommended, if you can find a copy. Mine is missing the dust jacket shown in the illustration. Online offers range from at round $15 to well over $100. The few blurbs refer to the “charming” folktale, not Sitwell’s version. It seems few booksellers actually read what they sell. ****

When Things Go Bad (Saramago, The Live Of Things, 2012)

 Jose Saramago. The Lives of Things (2012) Saramago is a Nobel Prize winner. I have mixed feelings about the Nobel Prize for Literature. By its very nature it tends to reward translatable literature,  which usually means literature that’s heavy on theme and thesis and light on language and style.

Saramago wrote during the Salazar dictatorship in Portugal. His stories are fantasies; their ambiance and tone is claustrophobic, stifling. There’s a sense of a fate that can be neither evaded nor comprehended, only endured. The “things” are both actual objects that turn on their owners, and people that have become objects, lacking the autonomy that would make them free agents..

An oddly unengaging read for the most part. I don’t know if that’s the effect of translation. I suspect that in Portuguese there are allusions, puns, verbal effects etc that add nuance, scope, and satirical point, but which would be difficult to render in English. But another book that drew me in despite its flaws, which testifies to the power of theme. ***