Growing up in southern Manitoba, Gander Stake learns to love the prairie, not for its vistas, but for its animal life and for the magic of the new machines that make it prosper. More agonizingly, however, he must learn how to love both his family and his grade-school sweetheart.
Set against the backdrop of World War I, this classic of prairie realism, first published in 1926, ponders whether the battle for grain is not as crucial to a nation's self-worth as the battle in Europe.
This simple coming-of-age novel tells us the story of "Gander", the son of a farmer. As Gander grows up on the farm, a life which he loves, he has to come to terms with the world outside the farm-especially during World War One and the period following it. The characters in this novel are ordinary people, living ordinary lives, but the author succeeds in showing us the deeper meaning behind their lives.
Despite the too descriptive farming practices, in Grain lies a rather skilled writer of pride and voice and action. I really enjoyed the complicated themes on war and it’s quite possible that it holds both feminist and queer themes with further research. A very enjoyable novel.
The latest of the prairie settler novels of the mid-1920s, but with such a focus on new machinery and the far-away background noise of the First World War, it seems a tad more modern than Wild Geese or Settlers of the Marsh. Gander and his family live in a rural settlement, but generally an established one. However, hints of how recent the establishment really is comes in the form of the makeshift nature of the Stake household--Jackson Stake would rather buy new binders or tractors or even cars than build a frame house, so until late in the book, the family lives in a collection of log shelter and lean-tos, and their hired hand lives in an old granary.
Grain is a bildungsroman focused on William "Gander" Stake, a boy who grows up skating, hunting, sporadic and unenthusiastic schooling, and working on the farm. The thing is, I didn't really care for him. He's portrayed as self-centred and narcissistic, especially when it comes to the girls and women in his life. Then again, he doesn't treat the men in his life with much more consideration.
The parts of the book I liked the best were the descriptions of farming life, and life in the community, and some of the supporting characters were sympathetic and interesting.
It's an odd book. On one level, it's a fairly typical early 20th century prairie novel: bleak, agriculture-based, and earnest. But on another level, it's a passionate defense of the farmer in the face of wartime patriotism. The sibling subplot borders on Dickensian and even the main plot winds up being a little maudlin, but there's still something compelling about Stead's depiction of farm life--mostly because it seems so odd judged by current standards. To quote: "Gander let [the engine] ramble gently for a few revolutions while the exhaust beat its pleasant tattoo inside the stack, then slowly gave her more steam while he watched the quickening flywheel and knew the thrill that comes only to those who hold great power in the hollow of their hands. Jo Burge? This--this power--this mighty thing that sprang at his touch--this was life!". But when all's said and done, it's a book where even the writer of the introduction complains about the "contrived, unnatural ending." You can probably skip this one, even if you're a fan of the genre.
It's still less depressing than "As For Me and My House," though.
File this with Rilla of Ingleside under ‘fascinating insight into how the absorption of imperialist war propaganda damages the settler Canadian psyche.’