Growing Pains: The Autobiography of Emily Carr

by Emily Carr, Robin Laurence (Introduction), Ira Dilworth (Preface)

This autobiography by Emily has been called "probably the finest... in a literary sense, ever written in Canada."

Completed just before Emily Carr died in 1945, Growing Pains tells the story of Carr’s life, beginning with her girlhood in pioneer Victoria and going on to her training as an artist in San Francisco, England and France. Also here is the frustration she felt at the rejection of her art by Canadians, of the years of despair when she stopped painting. She had to earn a living, and did so by running a small apartment-house, and her painful years of landladying and more joyful times raising dogs for sale, claimed all her time and energy. Then, towards the end of her life, came unexpected vindication and triumph when the Group of Seven accepted her as one of them. Throughout, the book is informed with Carr’s passionatate love of and connection with nature.

Carr is a natural storyteller whose writing is vivid and vital, informed by wit, nostalgic charm, an artist’s eye for description, a deep feeling for creatures and the foibles of humanity--all the things that made her previous books Klee Wyck and Book of Small so popular and critically acclaimed.

Genres: Nonfiction, Art, Biography, Memoir, Canada, Autobiography, Canadian Literature

352 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1946

About the author

Emily Carr (December 13, 1871 – March 2, 1945) was a Canadian artist and writer heavily inspired by the indigenous peoples of the Pacific Northwest Coast. One of the first painters in Canada to adopt a post-impressionist painting style, Carr did not receive widespread recognition for her work until later in her life. As she matured, the subject matter of her painting shifted from aboriginal themes to landscapes, and, in particular, forest scenes. As a writer, Carr was one of the earliest chroniclers of life in British Columbia. The Canadian Encyclopedia describes her as a "Canadian icon".

Reviews

[Diane S ☔ · Rating 4 out of 5]

I first heard of this book when reading Kathleen Winter and her book Boundless: Tracing Land and Dream in a New Northwest Passage. So when I finished that one, I purchased this one. What a life this artist lived, so unusual for her time. A young girl really at the time she decided to pursue art instead of the expected relationship and marriage that was the goal to which most young woman aspired. After the deaths of her parents, left in the care of her older sister she was most unhappy, her sister a most controlling and at times unkind woman. She convinces her guardian, an older man and keeper of the finances to subsidize a stay at an art school in London. From there she studied at various schools and art colonies, in England, Paris but always loved her native Vancouver best. She would not receive recognition for her art work until much later in her life. I just love her paintings which I found on the web. Her time with the Indians or nature studies. They are simply gorgeous.

She saw so much, did so much despite many long periods of ill health. Her writing is simple, to the point, yet descriptive with an artist's eye. She says she doesn't believe in using long words if a shorter one would do. So interesting to read of this women's life, the history she was party to, how she saw things and her passion for her art. Just a wonderful story told by the person who lived it.

[Ted · Rating 5 out of 5]

Have to go 5 stars on this one because it's very well written and about as honest an autobiography as you'll find. Carr puts her life journey on paper, revealing her brash, independent nature, her disdain for the patriarchal Victorian world of the late 19th century, her love of wilderness, her lengthy illnesses and financial struggles and perhaps more than anything else, her convoluted evolution as a creative artist, able to project what she derived from nature onto canvas and into print.

Carr's writing style is spare and to the point. The chapters in this book are short, anecdotal and illustrative of the author's circumstances at particular periods in her life. Her life journey wasn't a joy ride. It had its ups and downs; frustration and resignation were interspersed with optimism, hope and serenity. Two constants in her life were her adaptability to change and her love of painting. She was always motivated to learn new approaches, improve her techniques and evolve as an artist but she was in her late fifties before her works finally began to be recognized and valued. Then within ten years she was forced by illness to abandon painting and become a first time author. Her first work Klee Wyck won the Governor General of Canada's Award for non-fiction in 1941. In Canada, Emily Carr is viewed as an inspirational artist and writer. Her autobiography, Growing Pains is also inspirational and very much an ode to perseverance.

[Sylvester (Taking a break in 2023) · Rating 5 out of 5]

Five stars for a number of reasons: 1)The personal record of the struggles of an emerging artist. 2) An artist who can write too! 3)It made me reconsider my opinions about Carr's work. 4)Carr's devotion to Western Canada's woods and native peoples. (Don't think I've ever read any book quite so lavishly in love with Canada.) 5)The record of the correspondence between two respected artists. 6)Last, but my favorite of all - Carr wrote all her books in her 70's, after her doctor told her she needed to pull back on the painting - she had not written before, other than for her own personal pleasure. And her writing is wonderful, just wonderful. Loved all the descriptions of Vancouver and Victoria from before the first world war. Highly recommended to anyone interested in the development of an artist. (A large part of the book is devoted to the time Carr spent in England and France studying art.)

[Laura · Rating 5 out of 5]

If you loved The Forest Lover by Susan Vreeland, you will like this book even more.

5* Growing Pains: The Autobiography of Emily Carr
TR Klee Wyck
TR The Book of Small

[Margaret · Rating 4 out of 5]

I enjoyed the writing style of Emily Carr, she definitely had some gall and independence in her day. She is one of my favorite artists who was affiliated with The Group of Seven, a group of Canadian artists who painted the wilds of Canada. The latter part of the book was my favorite because she wrote more about her developing her own style and finding her artistic voice. Her close friendship with Lawren Harris intrigued me and I really appreciated that she included excerpts of his letters to her, giving amazing perspective of the creative life. The ending was written poignantly as she wrote it while she was 70 years old and due to heart problems, she was forced to stop venturing out to the woods to paint. I am a plein air artist and this especially made me feel sad, I can't imagining not being able to get outdoors to paint.

[Connor B · Rating 4 out of 5]

It wasn’t till the last page that I understood why I preferred the first half of the book. Man, the undercurrent of this book sneaks up on you.

[Kat Looby · Rating 5 out of 5]

"More than ever was I convinced that the old way of seeing was inadequate to express this big country of ours, her depth, her height, her unbounded wildness, silences too strong to be broken - nor could ten million cameras, through their mechanical boxes, ever show real Canada. It had to be sensed, passed through live minds, sensed and loved."

How to express how deeply this book has touched my heart? I first saw Emily Carr's work when I was a teenager, and I immediately loved it. I couldn't tell you why, it's just one of those things, you like what you like. The Group of Seven is fine, but give me Carr in the woods over open sky and rocks any day.
Now I see. She holds the same love and awe of the wild corners of Canada that live in my own heart. The echo to any who have looked into Canada's raw deep beauty and said "come share in the sights that move us both". She loves the Canada I love. The edges. The firy beauty. The fields between farms, the streams off the path, the sunlight through the trees.

Her story is also such, such an encouragement to me, both as a human and as an artist. To hear her talk about going to art school at 16, then 27, then again at 40 only to come home and be discouraged and not paint for 15 years. And then she was recognized? After all that, to find what she was searching for in her art style in her 60's? How beautiful. How encouraging! Her family struggles, her health struggles, her deep loneliness. She didn't let anything truly stop her from continuing the pursuit that sits in an artist's heart. To find what the woods are trying to tell her. I long to have her drive, her need to find the beauty. Not to capture it, but to rejoice in it.


"I am always asking myself the question, What is it that you are struggling for? What is the vital thing the woods contain, possess, that you want? Why do you go back and back to the woods unsatisfied, longing to express something that is there and not able to find it? This I know, I shall not find it until it comes out of my inner self." (Emily Carr, Hundreds and Thousands)

[Lisa · Rating 1 out of 5]

OMG why did this get 4 stars? I got just under halfway through the book and finally gave up. It is SO boring and she is so... weird? Unemotional? Snooty? I can't put my finger on it. All I know is that I was interested to learn about her but the little bitty bits of story (because we can't write it normally it has to be all choppy)that were unemotional and blah just made me stop caring. I know artists can tend towards the odd or eccentric but she just comes off as kind of nasty. I like her art but now it's kind of ruined for me. Blah.

[Q · Rating 2 out of 5]

Once upon a time in a Canadian high school grade 9 art class, we had to do a painting assignment replicating a group of seven painting - ever the feminist, I had to replicate Emily Carr. Well, my first attempt was messy and sloppy and the painting of a forest that frankly looked like brown paint everywhere - perhaps mistaken it for the bathroom of an IBS girlie.

So, as part of my library’s reading challenge on an influential Canadian woman, I wanted to take this opportunity to read more about the woman that traumatized me from ever picking up a paintbrush again. There were pockets of this book that made the human experience so relatable despite decades between us - the difficulties in making friends beyond your university years and creating/producing in an environment that doesn’t understand you, and how breaking cycles can feel like a betrayal to people who don’t want to break them.

But so so much of this book shocked me in its ignorance - even for the time. It is the quintessential British colonialism mindset and nothing is challenged nor reflected on - Emily Carr died in 1945, and I feel as if the racism and settler beliefs that she was born with remained with her until her death. While she was different from other group of seven painters for including indigenous art + culture into her paintings - it’s her understanding of art and culture. She reaped financial benefits for appropriating indigenous art for cash time and time again at her glory and fame - we never hear about her giving back to the indigenous community.

I will read her other books to see if the themes remain the same, and even though I should’ve known better, it seems evident to me that Emily Carr held racist attitudes towards indigenous people and other immigrant groups for not fitting into a viewpoint on being “Canadian”

[Rachel · Rating 4 out of 5]

Last school year we studied Emily Carr as one of our artists. I immediately fell in love with her colorful, authentic, and beautiful Canadian landscapes. Not only was she a talented painter but a gifted writer as well. I wanted to read one of her books and was thrilled to find this autobiography in a used bookstore when I wasn’t even looking for it.

This book is the story of Emily’s life and struggle to be taken seriously as an artist. It’s more of an overview, taking a broader bird’s eye look and not getting bogged in too many details. It shows how Emily struggled with a family who scoffed at her dream, people who underestimated her just because she was from Canada and not Europe, and teachers who dismissed her and teachers who saw her potential. And how finally, many decades later, she achieved recognition and respect.

The biggest thing I learned from this is that we don’t know what things in our present are preparing us for our future. Or how the fruit we are painfully growing now takes time to ripen. All these years Emily toiled in different art schools and came away feeling like she’d accomplished nothing. But then later all of that work and training helped her produce her greatest work.

It’s a really interesting, sometimes amusing and funny, sometimes heartbreaking story of how difficult and hopefully triumphant the life of an artist can be.

[Kim · Rating 5 out of 5]

Emily Carr (1871-1945), born to a provincial, religiously conservative family in western Canada, became an artist through her unflagging devotion, despite penury, illness, and scorn. She was at once shy, frail, and fearless. She enjoyed late life recognition and rewards, then age and infirmity put an end to her forest treks to paint, and she wrote a few wonderful books. Here she describes drawing from a live model for the first time: "I had dreaded this moment....Her live beauty swallowed up every bit of my shyness. I had never been taught to think of our naked bodies as something beautiful, only as something indecent....Here was nothing but loveliness-- a glad, life-lit body, a woman proud of her profession, proud of her shapely self, regal, illuminated, high-poised above our clothed insignificance." Through the decades in her autobiography, she becomes more and more cantankerous and isolated. But that phrase, "our clothed insignificance," so well describes what the artist sees, why we can see it too thanks to her, and why we gladly indulge the artist's eccentricity. I am eager now to see her paintings, and to recommend this book often.

[Patricia · Rating 5 out of 5]

My bff and sharer of great books found this little volume of Emily Carr's autobiography after we had both read The Forest Lover by Susan Vreeland. Carr’s story in her own word focuses on her early life in British Columbia with her stern father, her very proper Victorian mother and two sisters. Carr tells of her rebellious childhood where she draws pictures on her fingernails, petticoats and in the margins of all her school books. She is an embarrassment to her family who send her to foreign art schools starting at the age of 16 when she was sent to San Francisco, London and Paris.

Carr wrote this book when she could no longer paint. I believe that if this book were being printed today, it would fall into the category of memoir. Each of the fifty –five vignettes is perfectly shaped into stories that could stand alone. My very Favorite which truly shows what life was like for young Emily is titled Difference between Nude and Naked!

[Danny · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really appreciated finding out more about this fascinating woman as she described her life. She self describes her rule for writing as "get to the point and never use a big word when a small one will do". She writes in a way that is not lofty and for an autobiography she spends a great bit of time describing mundane things from her day to day life that really showed me the value of valuing the mundane. After all are not those the moments we speak of every day? I want to be more mindful of what passes before me in this life. I also really appreciated the advanced thoughts that Emily possessed for her time. What an independent soul. I was honored to read her story.

[Tina · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was interesting historically and art wise, but not so exciting to read.

[Kristen · Rating 3 out of 5]

I live in Southeast Alaska and I love the Emily Carr paintings of cedar trees. I first came to know her through the book, "Forest Lover" and was fascinated by her moxie in traveling to the native villages to paint totems. This autobiography was published in 1946 towards the end of her life. Much of it is about her journey through many many art schools and teachers beginning in San Francisco where she was sent to study after her parents both died. As a young girl she was not really accepted by her sisters; she wasn't refined and had too independent of a spirit. Her descriptions of the art schools in San Francisco, London, and France were like a vision of a Dickens novel; dreary and dire. And, her stories of boardering with different people was slightly painful to read about. When she returns from 5 years in London she considered herself a failure (in no small part because the "Ladies Art Club of Vancouver" hated her work) and this is where her story began to grip me.

She took a pleasure trip to Alaska with her sister and it spoke to her soul; you can tell by her descriptions of "desolate log shanties" left by Klondike Rush failures. While on a stop in Sitka, an American artist found her sketching and he praised her work saying, "I wish I had painted that. It has the true Indian flavor." And, that sparked her passion and put her on the trajectory that would make her famous. One encouraging word...without it I may have never enjoyed her cedar trees.

In the last quarter of the autobiography she tells the story of her relationship with Lawren Harris (to whom the book is dedicated). He mentored and praised her mightily and on page 344 he writes her a note that explains how an artist unfolds. When she writes back to him she says, "Sometimes my letters were all bubble - loveliness of the woods and creatures - again, they dripped with despairs and perplexities. Then he would try to set my crookedness straight." This exchange is terrific and he replies,

"Despair is part and parcel of every creative individual. Some succumb to it and are swamped for this life. It can't be conquered, one rises out of it. Creative rhythm plunges us into it, then lifts us till we are driven to extricate. None of it is bad. We cannot stop the rhythm but we can detach ourselves from it - we need not be completely immersed....we have to learn not to be! How? By not resisting."

Mr. Harris has such wisdom for an artist. Emily's story continues on when the doctors tell her that her painting is wearing too much on her body and she is forced to give it up and her creativity finds an outlet in her pen. She did get to find success while she was still living at home (where they used to snub her) and all over Canada and America. While she was again in hospital towards the end of her life, she was visited by the Director of the Ottawa National Gallery and he told her that as he drove through the forests of Canada that the forests he saw were all Emily Carr Pictures, he said, "You have caught the Western spirit." She was quite depressed at the time and thought,

"What good getting better if I was never to roam the woods again, paint-sack on shoulder, dog at heel? 'Wa! Wa! Wa!' The maternity ward was across the court from my room. New-borns were taking the unknown life before them hard. Ah! The price of being was this adjusting ourselves to life at different angles."

I love her reflections. She blinked at Mr. Newton and decided she would try to get well. And, that is when she wrote her best recollections of her life. For this I am thankful.

Emily Carr is a gift, and through her story I have also found the art of Lawren Harris, which I am also drawn to mightily.

[Julia · Rating 4 out of 5]

Read this for book club and enjoyed it.

It was very interesting to read a book written by a famous artist, and one written when she was over 70 years old. She remembered a lot! She had a hard life, I think. However, this contributed to her work.

"Professor, you are very hard on that young Canadian girl!"
"Hard?" The Professor shrugged, spread his palms. "Art - the girl has 'makings.' It takes red-hot fury to dig 'em up. If I'm harsh it's for her own good. More often than not worth while things hurt. Art's worth while."
Again he shrugged.

The book is about her early life and her later struggles as one of the only modern painters in Western Canada. No one appreciated her work until she was much older. I loved reading about old BC and of course, Emily Carr is BC's pride and joy so I can't help but feel proud of her. There were a lot of Canadian feelings, especially regarding the "Old World" versus the new.

More than ever was I convinced that the old way of seeing was inadequate to express this big country of ours, her depth, her height, her unbounded wideness, silences too strong to be broken - nor could ten million cameras, through their mechanical boxes, ever show real Canada. It had to be sensed, passed through live minds, sensed and loved.

Why must these people go on, and on, copying, copying fragments of old relics from extinct churches, and old tombs as though those were the best that could ever be, and it would be a sacrilege to beat them? Why didn't they want to out-do the best instead of copying, always copying what had been done?

One thing that surprised me was how many women artists there actually were at the schools. This is the late Victorian/early Edwardian age, and yet, there were a lot of female students at the art schools in San Francisco, London, and Paris. So her book and life is not so much about a struggle as a female artist, but more about being a Modern artist, and especially trying to bring that to Vancouver and Victoria. Reading about Carr studying Impressionism in France and then being in New York and seeing the new Abstract art movement was fascinating. These things have been around for a long time now, but they were all new to her, and had different impacts on her work. The Group of Seven was her saviour, and once she got to know them, her whole world changed.

She hardly writes about specific paintings. The only one really referenced was "The Indian Church" which is said to be her best work. She was unhappy about it because Lawren Harris said it was her best, and she didn't want to be at her peak.



After reading this, I had a new appreciation of her work.

[Rachel · Rating 4 out of 5]

“'He is cross, he thinks he is as important as God.'
Mother was supremely shocked; she had brought her family up under the English tradition that men of a woman’s family were created to be worshipped. My insurrection pained her.” (p.7)

“Nellie was always thinking- her eyes were such a clear blue there seemed only the merest film between her thoughts and you. Had she thought in words you could have read them.” (p.22)

“Sketching outdoors was a fluid process, half looking, half dreaming, awaiting invitation from the spirit of the subject to ‘come, meet me half way’. Outdoor sketching is as much longing as labour.” (p.26)

“Adda was of Puritan stock. I was Early Victorian. We were a couple of prim prudes by education.” (p.29)

“Incense and flower-perfume mixed and strayed up to the roof. Hush melted and tendered everything. The hush and the holiness were so strong that they made you terribly happy. You wanted to cry or sing or something.” (p.44)

“I loved every bit of it- no boundaries, no beginning, no end, one continual shove of growing- edge of land meeting edge of water, with just a ribbon of sand between. Sometimes the ribbon was smooth, sometimes fussed with foam. Trouble was only on the edges; both sea and forests in their depths were calm and still. Virgin soil, clean sea, pure air, vastness by day, still deeper vastness in dark when beginnings and endings joined.” (p.78)

“To the British Museum I went and loathed it- the world mummified… No matter which turn I took I arrived back in the mummy-room, disgusting human dust swaddled in rags, dust that should have been allowed centuries back to build itself renewingly into the earth. The great mummy halls stank of disinfectants. Visitors whispered and crept… Place of over-preservation, all the solemnity choked out of death, making curiosity out of it, prying, exposed, indecent.” (p.93)

“Why must these people go on, and on, copying, copying fragments of old relics from extinct churches, and old tombs as though those were the best that could ever be, and that it would be a sacrilege to beat them? Why didn't they want to out-do the best instead of copying, always copying what had been done?” (p.97)

“He did not ask me to marry him there, but came home to think it over and wasted a postage stamp on it.” (p.105)

“A narrow, walled way led from the side door of the vicarage to the church vestry, a sombre interlude in which to bottle secular thoughts and to uncork sacred. (p.121)

“Deeper, deeper I penetrated among foliage illuminated by the pale, tender juices of Spring. There were patches of primroses pale as moonlight, patches of bluebells sky colour, beds of softest moss under my feet.” (p.137)

“The Indian caught first the inner intensity of his subject, worked outward to the surfaces. His spiritual connection he buried deep in the wood he was about to carve. Then- chip! chip! His crude tools released the symbols that were to clothe his thought- no sham, no mannerism. The lean, neat Indian hands carved what the Indian mind comprehended.” (p.211)

“More than ever I was convinced that the old way of seeing was inadequate to express this big country of ours, her depth, her height, her unbounded wideness, silences too strong to be broken- not could ten million cameras, through their mechanical boxes, ever show real Canada. It had to be sensed, passed through live minds, sensed and loved.” (p.228)

“Next day I acted; curiosity had won over fright. As I bought my ticket my heart sank to somewhere around my knees, which shook with its weight; but common sense came along, took a hand, whispering ‘Hasn’t it been your policy all through life to see whenever seeing was good?’” (p.241)

“Ordinary people were not permitted to communicate with the mansion-dwellers except by some special telephonic gymnastics far too occult for me to grasp.” (p.249)

“I was done with the boil and ferment of restless, resentful artists, cudgelling their brains as to how to make Art pay, how to “please the public”. Mr. Harris did not paint to please the public, he did not have to, but he would not have done so anyway.” (p.252)

“The old Masters have not been surpassed. Modern artists do different things in terms of their day, place and attitude. Great works of Art are the same yesterday, today and forever. We but endeavour to be ourselves, deeply ourselves; then we approach the precincts of Great Art- timeless- the Soul throughout eternity in essence.” (quoting Lawren Harris, p.255)

“In despair again? Now that is too bad. Let us be philosophical as we can about it. Despair is part and parcel of every creative individual. Some succumb to it and are swamped for this life. It can’t be conquered, one rises out of it. Creative rhythm plunges us into it, then lifts us till we are driven to extricate. None of it is bad. We cannot stop the rhythm but we can detach ourselves from it- we need not to be completely immersed… we have to learn not to be! How? By not resisting.” (quoting Lawren Harris, p.256)

“…don’t let temporary depression, isolation, or any other feeling interfere with your work….Keep on …do what you feel like doing most. Remember, when discouraged, that there is a rhythm of elation and dejection; and that we stimulate it by creative endeavor. When we enter the stream of creative life, then we are on our own and have to find self-reliance, active conviction, learn to see the logic behind the inner struggle….Creative imagination is only creative when it transcends the personal…Personality is merely the locale of the endless struggle, the scene of the wax and wane of forces far greater than itself.” (quoting Lawren Harris, p.257)

“Woods you are very sly, picking those moments when you are quiet and off guard to reveal yourselves to us, folding us into your calm, accepting us to the sway, the rhythm of your spaces, space interwoven with the calm that rests forever in you.
For all that you stand so firmly rooted, so still, you quiver, there is movement in every leaf.
Woods you are not only a group of trees. Rather you are low space intertwined with growth.” (p.261)

“The maple tree was always beautiful, always gracious. In spring it had a sunlit, pale-yellow glory, in summer it was deep, restful green, in autumn it was gold and bronze, in winter it was a gnarled network of branches. It was in winter you saw best the tree’s reality, its build-up and strength. (p.262)

“The price of being was this adjusting ourselves to life at different angles.” (p.264)

“I did not know book rules. I made two myself. They were about the same as the principles I used in painting- Get to the point as directly as you can; never use a big word if a little one will do.” (p.265)

“It had been absolutely necessary for truth’s sake to include a few short pages on our home life which for me had not been happy after the death of our parents. I had to show what drove me to the woods and to the creatures for comfort, what caused the real starting point of my turn to Art.” (p.267)

“It was like having a beautiful funeral only being very much alive to enjoy it.” (p.273)

“What of the old maimed goose who could not rise to go with the flock? Of course there was the old, the maimed goose. What of him when the flock, young and vigorous, rose leaving him grounded? Did despair tear his heart? No, old goose would fill the bitter moment, pouring out proud, exultant honks that would weave among the clatter of the migrating flock. When the flock were away, animal-wise he would nibble here and nibble there, quietly accepting.
Old age has me grounded too. Am I accepting? God give me the brave unquestioning trust of the wild goose!” (p.281)

[Janet Barclay · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was chosen by my friend for our book club. Although I've of course heard of Emily Carr, I knew nothing of her painting or her writing, so I wasn't overly excited about reading her autobiography. However, as soon as I started the book I was delighted to discover that she was an excellent storyteller making it an enjoyable read despite the fact I had basically no previous knowledge of her.

It was an interesting follow-up to my last book, GreenwoodGreenwood, due to Carr's relationships with the forests and indigenous peoples of Western Canada during much of the same time period. Reading a novel, then backing the history up with a true story, was a very interesting way to learn and something I may plan to do in the future.

I've added her GG Award winning Klee Wyck to my "To Read" list.

[Simon Pockley · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved inhabiting this autobiography. Emily Carr writes in way that makes you want to be with her, like a friend.

Indian Sophie was my friend. We sat long whiles upon the wide church steps, talking little, watching the ferry ply between the city and the North Shore, Indian canoes fishing the waters of the Inlet, papooses playing on the beach. p. 278.

There are extraordinary moments of insightful expression

I felt bitter. My sister was peeved. She neither looked at nor asked about my work during the whole two months of her visit. It was then that I made myself into an envelope into which I could thrust my work deep, lick the flap, seal it from everybody. p. 175

And her deeply felt love of country and its native inhabitants is both poignant and expressed with a wonder that transported me:

No part of living was normal. We lived on fish and fresh air. We sat on things not meant for sitting on, ate out of vessels not meant to hold food, slept on hardness that bruised us; but the lovely, wild vastness did something to it all. I loved every bit of it – no boundaries, no beginning, no end, one continual shove of growing - edge of land meeting edge of water, with just a ribbon of sand between. P.108.

[Mary · Rating 5 out of 5]

From a far place and a distant time: the Western Canadian coastal woods in the late 19th century, we have a fine autobiography of a singular woman artist. How fortunate are we to have her articulate words recorded. Emily Carr was a spirited individualist and a struggling soul who worked hard to make her own mark. Determined to find adequate instruction, Carr traveled to Europe alone, battling her way in dirty cites, troubling boarding houses, with Victorian attitudes on the one hand and other artists of strange temperament on the other. I see myself in so much of the ponderings of her sensitive ambition. She nearly gave up, and for years put her tools away. But the recognition she gained from some of the modernist Canadian landscapers gave her much needed impetus. Recorded are her life giving correspondences with Lawren Harris, of the famous Canadian Seven, who believed in her ability and challenged her forward. A good companion to this detailing of her developed thoughts is “Emily Carr Collected”, a retrospective of her visual work. Words and work from the life of one original and determined creative.

[Muaz Jalil · Rating 4 out of 5]

I bought this book from the Ottawa Public Library. It's the autobiography of the famous Canadian Painter Emily Carr, from BC. The book is very readable; she has a great sense of humour. One person's heaven can easily be another's hell. She loathed London while studying at Westminister Art School, whereas I absolutely loved my stay in the UK, especially London.

I did not know there was a road called Paternoster Row, close to Saint Paul, which was destroyed during the Blitz. It was the hub of publishing—the Nilkhet (Dhaka) of London. I walked around that place but did not know about its history.

Mrs Radcliffe was an interesting character. She called Emily, Klee Wyck (“Laughing One”). This is the name the Nuu-chah-nulth (Nootka) people gave her(Carr). There is another autobiography by Carr, titled Klee Wyck, which deals with Carr's interaction with the Indigenous community. Plan to read that also.

[Numberbox · Rating 4 out of 5]

From the looks of it, I acquired this book 6 years ago (likely while living in Victoria, also the author’s home), but I think it’s been longer and I only entered it into Goodreads at that time. Why did I wait so long to read Emily Carr‽!
One hundred years separates us, and this is evident in her use of language, and more subtly, as in how even her progressive mind lets male dominate. But I’m fascinated by this series of essays and views on life as an artist in Canada at the time, how one managed international and transatlantic travel, and her training and routines as a landscape artist.
Emily Carter was a skilled writer, public reception of her books when published toward the end of her life was warmer than that of her paintings, certainly by laypeople. But now I thirst for her to speak more about the act of painting itself. Lucky for me I also have a hard copy of her journals. Guess what’s next…

[Kerry · Rating 5 out of 5]

Marvelous account of Emily Carr's life. She has quite a way with words as well as with a paint brush! I've admired her paintings, visited her home/museum in Victoria, BC, but this book helps to round her out as a person. She had frail health, but was a quite prolific artist. She was not respected for her art in the west of Canada, but became so , possibly after the westerners saw that the east adored her! Her painting, in my eye, is full of light, even those that appear dark. At the end of the autobiography she has been watching some geese fly over head and then looks back to the clearing where she is working, "Today the clearing was not sun-dazzled, rather it was illumed with Spring, every leaf was as yet only half unfurled and held light and spilled some." The true artist's eye. She writes well even though she said her editor helped tremendously with punctuation and spelling.

[Nicola Pierce · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was just sublime. I first came across Emily Carr in one of May Sarton's published journals and I am now a huge fan of hers. Had never heard of her before that and, so, knew nothing about her art etc. This is her story and it is well told. Apart from her painting, Carr is a hugely talented writer. She makes great company. After reading this, I sought out her unknow journals and am loving them just as much as this one. Talk about strength! Imagine following your grand passion in life and devoting all to it whilst receiving little or no encourage from family, friends or critics. Standing there, unveiling your latest work to silence or embarrassment. This woman is inspirational if only for her strength. Honestly, I think she was an exceptional human being!

[Mike Orta · Rating 5 out of 5]

Spoiler Alert: This is a very inspiring book. Despite a lack of support for her artwork Emily Carr continues to work. Unappreciated in Victoria and discouraged by family Emily somehow continues to work. She stops believing in herself and still she continues to work. She is saved when she meets fellow progressive painters. When she can no longer paint then she begins to write in her late 60's! As I read this book I kept thinking that I wished she could had met John Muir and Walt Whitman. All three enjoyed the outdoors and wrote so well of the outdoors. I was pleased that the last words in the book is a quote from Walt Whitman.

[John · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this autobiography. There was not as much about her actual painting as I thought there would be but all her travels and just life in general between 1871 and 1945 more than made up for it. It wasn't until meeting Lawren Harris that she started talking about the philosophy behind her painting. She had an extraordinary life outside of painting too. The only thing I found frustrating was a lack of dates or ages to know where you were in the progression of her life. Now to go read "Klee Wyck".

[Tammy T · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a fascinating read. I found she is one of the most lucid writers of painting and the feelings of painting I have ever read. Her process, the ideas behind it and her love for Canada are all interesting. I found her more interesting as an artist than a person (she seems rather pissy and immature). But she comes alive when she talks about art. Incredible that she is gifted at writing as well as painting.

[Linda · Rating 5 out of 5]

On a recent month-long trip in Canada and Alaska, I "discovered" Emily Carr, when we saw many of her paintings in Vancouver and Whistler. They were truly unique. When I learned she had become an author is her later years, I bought this book that I thoroughly enjoyed from beginning-to-end. Not only could the woman paint well, but she could also write well. This might be her first book that I read, but it won't be the last. Emily Carr was one-of-a-kind; I'm in awe of her talents.

[Unigami · Rating 4 out of 5]

Hard to put down, really great stories from her life and considering the age of the book the writing style is quite modern with short chapters. I also really enjoyed learning about "The Group of Seven" which I had never heard of and in particular, discovering the work of Lawren Harris, whose paintings I really love.

[Carla · Rating 5 out of 5]

Such a good read. I had no idea that Emily Carr was a writer as well as a painter. She tells a great story and describes her highs and lows as an artist so well, I'm looking forward to reading her other books.