Austin Clarke’s luminous novel, written in vivid, hypnotic prose, reveals the dislocations of place and the nature of memory and the past. Two elderly Barbadian men, childhood friends who haven’t seen each other in fifty years, collide in a snowstorm on a Toronto street. In the warmth of a nearby bar, through the afternoon and into the night, they relate stories, exchange opinions, and share memories of a past in Barbados when, as children, neither could conceive any other place existed for them. As these two men confess to each other their innermost truths, their exploits and their love affairs, one tells the haunting story of a young Chinese woman, the other of the real reason for his visit to Toronto. Infused with pathos and humour, and with an affecting nostalgia for the idea of home, The Origin of Waves is a stunning and original novel by one of the country’s most gifted writers.
Austin Ardinel Chesterfield Clarke was a Canadian novelist, essayist and short story writer who lives in Toronto, Ontario. He has been called "Canada's first multicultural writer".
Clarke had his early education in Barbados and taught at a rural school for three years. In 1955 he moved to Canada to attend the University of Toronto but after two years turned his hand to journalism and broadcasting. He was a reporter in the Ontario communities of Timmins and Kirkland Lake, before joining the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation as a freelance journalist. He subsequently taught at several American universities, including Yale, Duke and the University of Texas.
In 1973 he was designated cultural attaché at the Barbadian embassy in Washington, DC. He was later General Manager of the Caribbean Broadcasting Corporation in Barbados (1975-1977).
Returning to Canada, in 1977 he ran as a Progressive Conservative candidate in the Ontario election. He was writer in residence at Concordia University, Montreal, Quebec and at University of Western Ontario.From 1988 to 1993 he served on the Immigration and Refugee Board of Canada.
One of just five books on the short-lived CBC Sunday Edition Backlist, initiated by Michael Enright (sigh. I miss that show). It was this list that got me fascinated by underappreciated fiction, after reading Swamp Angel by Ethel Wilson, and Basic Black with Pearls by Helen Weinzweig (which also introduced me to the House of Anansi A List).
This is the second Austin Clarke book I’ve read. I started with a short story collection called When He Was Young and Free and He Used to Wear Silks, and was very moved by the language used. This book continues that. It takes place over a single afternoon and evening, after two friends who grew up in Barbados reconnect by chance after 50 years in a snowy Toronto street. They take refuge in a bar, and swap stories about their lives, their loves, and their childhood. It is a train-of-thought book. It follows the exact same ebb and flow of a conversation that you’d have with a long-lost friend, including interruptions by the bartender, comments under the breath about folk at other tables, and plenty of reminiscing.
It is a fascinating book to read, but I felt a little lost by it, as it is --like many conversations-- aimless, wandering here and there without much direction. But as I read on, and the two friends slowly reveal themselves to each other, wearing away at the patina of time and the pressure to look successful, I found my footing. They talk about immigration -- one ended up in Canada, the other southern US (eventually), and money, and family. They are foils to each other, and together are sorting through their collective and separate past to find common ground.
Its a short book, so if you’re looking for a new perspective from a book full of beautiful prose, its a book worth checking out.
This was a tough read for me, though in the end I was glad I slogged it out. Pretty much the entire novel is a conversation between two childhood friends from Barbados who haven't seen each other in over 40 years but have a chance encounter in Toronto and repair to a bar to reminisce and catch up. Most of the "action" is narrated by Timmy (we don't learn his name until late in the novel), who lives in Toronto, though his interlocutor, John, is by far the more animated of the two. The difficulties of being a black man in a white world (the snows of Toronto act as a rather obvious foil in this regard), of not being able to make a home at home, and of what it means to be a man in any sense are all given pride of place here, but unfortunately (for me at least), the conversation takes place in a haze of bravado, alcohol, profanity, and sexist doggerel, and however authentic that patois may be, it didn't make it any less unpleasant to read. If I'd been sitting close to these two loudmouths, John especially, I'd have gone to another bar.
I am confused. How much of each man's narrative was real? Why is the story of the cobbler and the tube such a turning point in their childhood? Did they really never see each other again after that, and why not? What was Timmy doing all the time up until meeting Lang at what, age 50? Is he mentally unstable, and has he always been? What is the injury he talked about, and why does he not work? How does he not work? And how did Lang die? And why, at the very end, do their characters seem reversed (i.e., why does Timmy seem to tell John what has happened?)
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
This is a story about two boys from Barbados who grow up, grow apart, and then run into each other in a Toronto snowstorm. The first 12 pages (boyhood) were lovely, with great descriptions and the elements of friendship. The remaining 230 pages were based on a reuniting conversation between the two characters during one long afternoon and night in a bar. That conversation went on and on and on and on. I don't like putting down a book in the middle, so I continued to read to the end - but am not sure it was worth my time.
People have told me that The Polished Hoe is Clarke's best novel, and perhaps that is true. Nevertheless, this book was very beautiful, and touched me in ways his magnum opus hadn't. Taking place over one evening (or is it a lifetime?), this book deals with memory, loss, the immigrant experience, masculinity, male friendship, the nature of truth, and how that truth gets poured out over drinks in a Toronto bar.
A heartwarming story of two childhood friends that reunite by chance on the winter streets of Toronto. They catch up on reminiscing about the happening over the past 50 years. Lovely.