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Our Lady of the Snows
In a story set against the backdrop of a seedy but glamorous Toronto hotel, the author focuses on an extraordinary woman whose life has a profound impact on the lives of everyone she meets.
- GenresFiction
215 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1985
32 people want to read
About the author
Morley Callaghan
83 books48 followersEdward Morley Callaghan was a Canadian novelist, short story writer, playwright, and TV and radio personality.
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Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
August 23, 2015
Typically fine work by Callaghan. The characters are interesting and have very real motivations for their actions. As always with this writer, the dialogue has authenticity.
April 25, 2014
Our Lady of the Snows
a novel
by Morley Callaghan
Kassie Ritman
Reviewed for Catholic Fiction
rating **
I must admit, reading a new author is generally something I do via an intriguing title or the allure of a pretty book cover. I elected to read and review Our Lady of the Snows because lately I had been on a sort of Marian kick. Being a life-long Midwesterner, I expected a novel about the Holy Mother and her veneration at the national shrine just outside of St. Louis. However, Mr Callaghan’s story is based in Toronto and by page four is relating various conversations and concerns among a table filled with prostitutes in an old-town hotel.
Gasp!
Reading the jacket synopsis is always a bit of a spoiler for me, so there was no foreshadowing of what I was getting myself into. But, I had noted in the pre-pages that the author had written steadily from his first published novel in 1928, adding about 20 more to the list at regular intervals into the 1980s. I thought that at least by way of proliferation of the author’s work, there should be something worthwhile ahead in this alternative “Our Lady.” So, I read on!
I have to say that I liked the clarity of the writing. Pictures fell neatly into my head as I read his words, but confusion sets in where the characters are concerned. There is such an expansive cast that it is really tough some times to keep score. Another sad effect of such a populated story is the lack of depth past introductions. To get anyone really embedded in my head well enough to understand them, their life, their purpose, their reason for being on the page was unrewarded work. The answers, and/or further back story just were not available to the reader.
As for the title, I was never sure which of three possibilities it had sprung from. Was it alluding to a rather pristinely-kept, sparkling white building, the Bradley, in a run-down part of the city around which much of the story is anchored? Or was it named in reference to the apparitional warning the cripple-legged iron-booted pimp, Dubuque, sees one night in a dream? I think the most likely source of inspiration comes as a nod to the character Ilana, an exotically mink-clad Hungarian lady of the evening who selectively chooses her Johns, infuriates the other “girls” and whom everyone seems to fixate on and want...pardon the off-color pun...a piece of.
Overall, I think Our Lady of the Snows is a multi directional story of illusion and appearances struggling to override reality. It’s also a window into the lives of many who battle within over one’s place in the world conflicting with the calling they sense but cannot seem to attain. Illusion after illusion is chased, assumed and challenged throughout the book. A criminal and pimp wants to be seen as an upstanding and important business man. A bartender waits out his temporary stint serving drinks, poised to write the next great novel as soon as the right material springs forth. A daughter born to broke immigrants who dares to quash her parent’s outdated ways and wishes is then cast into the role of provider and visual symbol of aristocracy past. Other assorted and less fully described characters breeze through and buzz about the Bradley living out their years and odd lifestyles fully accepting their personal lot in life, but also noticing perceived “betters” of others with great discomfort. I felt like I was seeing the score for “Hotel California” before the song was written.
I know it will seem prudish in current society to offer a word of caution to readers about the rough language, but offer it I will because it also speaks to the general feel of the story. At times the prose is shockingly vulgar, which falls in line with the subject matter. However, the “f-bombs” that pop from the page are a bit stilted in affect when planted along side Callaghan’s tamer yet believable style of dialogue. If he meant to insert profanities into a few conversations for shock value or emphasis, this effort falls short. In a tale where the setting is rather grey to beige, covered up with snow and slush and smoke from the bar and lounge, his use of cuss word punctuation seems just a beat or two off from the rest of the band. The insertion seems more like a distraction than a solid point of emphasis.
At the end of the book, I felt like I had just finished the opening act of what could have been better written as a trilogy. Too many juicy snippets were left hanging that could have easily been fleshed out into something more. Also, many of the introduced and quickly discarded characters were people I felt interested in following along a full length path. In all candor, I felt Our Lady of the Snows read like an overview of a larger work. If you enjoy a read that stops in a rather open ended manner...this is one that will leave you satisfied by it’s wealth of un-addressed “what ifs.”
Now in fairness to Morley Callaghan (and due to my own curiosity) I looked into some other reviews of his work. As luck would have it, this book seems to be hands-down the least well received / lowest rated one of his rather lauded career. Maybe therein lies a lesson to this reader...titles aren’t everything, or as the old adage goes...Assuming only makes an “ass” out of “u” and “me!” So I will be revising my selection method and re-read some reviews of his other works. Overall, the writing was good so I would like to give Morley another try.
a novel
by Morley Callaghan
Kassie Ritman
Reviewed for Catholic Fiction
rating **
I must admit, reading a new author is generally something I do via an intriguing title or the allure of a pretty book cover. I elected to read and review Our Lady of the Snows because lately I had been on a sort of Marian kick. Being a life-long Midwesterner, I expected a novel about the Holy Mother and her veneration at the national shrine just outside of St. Louis. However, Mr Callaghan’s story is based in Toronto and by page four is relating various conversations and concerns among a table filled with prostitutes in an old-town hotel.
Gasp!
Reading the jacket synopsis is always a bit of a spoiler for me, so there was no foreshadowing of what I was getting myself into. But, I had noted in the pre-pages that the author had written steadily from his first published novel in 1928, adding about 20 more to the list at regular intervals into the 1980s. I thought that at least by way of proliferation of the author’s work, there should be something worthwhile ahead in this alternative “Our Lady.” So, I read on!
I have to say that I liked the clarity of the writing. Pictures fell neatly into my head as I read his words, but confusion sets in where the characters are concerned. There is such an expansive cast that it is really tough some times to keep score. Another sad effect of such a populated story is the lack of depth past introductions. To get anyone really embedded in my head well enough to understand them, their life, their purpose, their reason for being on the page was unrewarded work. The answers, and/or further back story just were not available to the reader.
As for the title, I was never sure which of three possibilities it had sprung from. Was it alluding to a rather pristinely-kept, sparkling white building, the Bradley, in a run-down part of the city around which much of the story is anchored? Or was it named in reference to the apparitional warning the cripple-legged iron-booted pimp, Dubuque, sees one night in a dream? I think the most likely source of inspiration comes as a nod to the character Ilana, an exotically mink-clad Hungarian lady of the evening who selectively chooses her Johns, infuriates the other “girls” and whom everyone seems to fixate on and want...pardon the off-color pun...a piece of.
Overall, I think Our Lady of the Snows is a multi directional story of illusion and appearances struggling to override reality. It’s also a window into the lives of many who battle within over one’s place in the world conflicting with the calling they sense but cannot seem to attain. Illusion after illusion is chased, assumed and challenged throughout the book. A criminal and pimp wants to be seen as an upstanding and important business man. A bartender waits out his temporary stint serving drinks, poised to write the next great novel as soon as the right material springs forth. A daughter born to broke immigrants who dares to quash her parent’s outdated ways and wishes is then cast into the role of provider and visual symbol of aristocracy past. Other assorted and less fully described characters breeze through and buzz about the Bradley living out their years and odd lifestyles fully accepting their personal lot in life, but also noticing perceived “betters” of others with great discomfort. I felt like I was seeing the score for “Hotel California” before the song was written.
I know it will seem prudish in current society to offer a word of caution to readers about the rough language, but offer it I will because it also speaks to the general feel of the story. At times the prose is shockingly vulgar, which falls in line with the subject matter. However, the “f-bombs” that pop from the page are a bit stilted in affect when planted along side Callaghan’s tamer yet believable style of dialogue. If he meant to insert profanities into a few conversations for shock value or emphasis, this effort falls short. In a tale where the setting is rather grey to beige, covered up with snow and slush and smoke from the bar and lounge, his use of cuss word punctuation seems just a beat or two off from the rest of the band. The insertion seems more like a distraction than a solid point of emphasis.
At the end of the book, I felt like I had just finished the opening act of what could have been better written as a trilogy. Too many juicy snippets were left hanging that could have easily been fleshed out into something more. Also, many of the introduced and quickly discarded characters were people I felt interested in following along a full length path. In all candor, I felt Our Lady of the Snows read like an overview of a larger work. If you enjoy a read that stops in a rather open ended manner...this is one that will leave you satisfied by it’s wealth of un-addressed “what ifs.”
Now in fairness to Morley Callaghan (and due to my own curiosity) I looked into some other reviews of his work. As luck would have it, this book seems to be hands-down the least well received / lowest rated one of his rather lauded career. Maybe therein lies a lesson to this reader...titles aren’t everything, or as the old adage goes...Assuming only makes an “ass” out of “u” and “me!” So I will be revising my selection method and re-read some reviews of his other works. Overall, the writing was good so I would like to give Morley another try.
October 9, 2012
A Canadian friend gave this to me quite a long time ago, so I feel slightly guilty about not having read it earlier... Anyway, Morley Callaghan is apparently one of Canada's finest writers, whom critics have compared to Hemingway and Fitzgerald. This is one of his later works. Set in Toronto, the story concerns a Hungarian woman living in exile (who seems to have decided that her life's calling is to be a prostitute!) and the club-footed racketeer who becomes fascinated by her.
This book is something of a slow-burner, but gradually becomes more intriguing as it goes on. However, it fails to come to a satisfying conclusion and the characters and their dialogue are not always convincing. Still, there's much to admire here - it's written with the kind of clarity and simplicity of style which is actually very hard to achieve, and it's great on local colour. If I could, I'd give it 3.5 stars, and I would be interested to read more by this author.
This book is something of a slow-burner, but gradually becomes more intriguing as it goes on. However, it fails to come to a satisfying conclusion and the characters and their dialogue are not always convincing. Still, there's much to admire here - it's written with the kind of clarity and simplicity of style which is actually very hard to achieve, and it's great on local colour. If I could, I'd give it 3.5 stars, and I would be interested to read more by this author.
December 23, 2025
ILona, Jay and Gil were some of the main characters and parts of their backstories were delved into in some detail. All the characters ended up pretty impervious to each other with pots calling kettles black and so on.
But most of the characters had teflon or cast-iron personalities (euphemism for mental illnesses of various sorts) and lived somewhere along the bell curve of criminality from petty crime to major crime. Several characters were cognizant of the goings on of more than one of the cardinals of the Roman Catholic Church.
No one is ever going to convince me that a lounge-girl type of hooker is mentally healthy if only because she raised herself above walking the street.
In the final analysis, considering the sorts of stories Callaghan’s writing competitors were coming up with, he did a good job of delivering a piece of Canadiana-centered literature.
But most of the characters had teflon or cast-iron personalities (euphemism for mental illnesses of various sorts) and lived somewhere along the bell curve of criminality from petty crime to major crime. Several characters were cognizant of the goings on of more than one of the cardinals of the Roman Catholic Church.
No one is ever going to convince me that a lounge-girl type of hooker is mentally healthy if only because she raised herself above walking the street.
In the final analysis, considering the sorts of stories Callaghan’s writing competitors were coming up with, he did a good job of delivering a piece of Canadiana-centered literature.
August 6, 2012
Loved it.
I think this may be the first Callaghan I’ve read. Can that be true?
I believe that I will read this one over again.
Oh, he is so good.
Oh, I've so much to to learn.
It’s the story of ....?
A group of people.
A hotel.
A time in Toronto.
A prostitute who enchants.
Say it with me now, "OUTSTANDING!"
I think this may be the first Callaghan I’ve read. Can that be true?
I believe that I will read this one over again.
Oh, he is so good.
Oh, I've so much to to learn.
It’s the story of ....?
A group of people.
A hotel.
A time in Toronto.
A prostitute who enchants.
Say it with me now, "OUTSTANDING!"
August 5, 2016
A mash-up of old fashioned storytelling and more modern, late 20th century concerns. It's not what I was expecting, but aside from a sudden end to the proceedings, this is a very engaging & surprisingly contemplative book. Especially considering the cast of characters, complete with hoodlums and hookers that seem to be very much out of time for the (then) contemporary setting.
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews