What do you think?
Rate this book
Minister Without Portfolio
A novel confronting the deeply personal effects of war with the emotional resonance of The Shipping News and the power of Tim O’Brien
Henry Hayward is a drowning man. In a quest to find meaning in an emotionally arid life, Henry travels to Afghanistan as an army-affiliated contractor, where he becomes embedded in the regiment with which his friends are serving. But everything changes during a tragic roadside incursion. And Henry, who survives, knows in his heart that he is responsible. After returning home, Henry feels more rootless than before. Matters are complicated by the grief of Martha, his deceased friend’s long-term girlfriend, with whom he once had an affair. Henry tries to make posthumous amends by planning to repair his deceased friend’s home, but he hasn’t taken family history—or Martha’s secrets—into account.
Henry Hayward is a drowning man. In a quest to find meaning in an emotionally arid life, Henry travels to Afghanistan as an army-affiliated contractor, where he becomes embedded in the regiment with which his friends are serving. But everything changes during a tragic roadside incursion. And Henry, who survives, knows in his heart that he is responsible. After returning home, Henry feels more rootless than before. Matters are complicated by the grief of Martha, his deceased friend’s long-term girlfriend, with whom he once had an affair. Henry tries to make posthumous amends by planning to repair his deceased friend’s home, but he hasn’t taken family history—or Martha’s secrets—into account.
336 pages, Kindle Edition
First published August 27, 2013
28 people are currently reading
1203 people want to read
About the author
Michael Winter
8 books69 followersAuthor of five books: The Architects Are Here, The Big Why, This All Happened, One Last Good Look, Creaking in their Skins. His novel, The Death of Donna Whalen, is slated for publication in 2010.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 173 reviews
August 18, 2015
Sorry, Mr. Winter but your sloppy writing just doesn't cut it. You may have had a story to tell -- certainly the central premise of a civilian contractor getting in the middle of a fatal attack in Afghanistan is timely enough; and that, combined with a man disappointed in love finding a new reason to go on could have developed into a compelling narrative. Your settings also had great promise: the austere beauty of Newfoundland, the unhealthy, dangerous environment of Afghanistan, the gritty, non-stop work routine of Fort McMurray. Henry could have developed into a central character that I as a reader would come to care about. But none of that happened. Your haphazard thought stream, meaningless phrases that didn't go anywhere or have anything to do with the topic or situation at hand, never mind a total disregard for coherent punctuation -- all that got in the way.
Your editors let you get away with all those bad writing habits and in so doing, they let you down.
Your editors let you get away with all those bad writing habits and in so doing, they let you down.
March 31, 2017
CANADA READS 2016 FINALIST
Man, what an absolute drag of a read.
Minister Without Portfolio's two parts could be easily summarized in two quick sentences. Part 1: Henry gets dumped, goes to Afghanistan, is traumatized, goes out West to work, but has to come back to Newfoundland. Part 2: Henry's got a house to build, a relationship to sort out and has to meet the b'ys from around the bay. After the quick clip of the first 30 pages, Minister Without Portfolio becomes a decompressed read that was an absolute slog-fest for me to get through.
My issue isn't with Winter's sparse style, but rather with the excruciating pace of the novel. After beginning with an opening that moves quickly from place to place and culminates in the death of one of his friends, Henry begins a long road to recovery and personal betterment. The plot sounded appealing and I was hoping to gain insight into the plight of labourers who have to travel away for work, but instead found an extremely dull storyline that never gripped me. Henry's evolution by the end of the novel is believable, it's just that I was never invested in any of the characters enough to care about where they ended up. It's also not that I couldn't see what Winter was trying to do with the novel, it just failed to provoke any personal response.
Also, full disclosure, I currently live in Newfoundland and have for some time. The brief moments of recognition of places I knew, or descriptions of the barren landscape of "The Rock" were some of the sections I found most interesting. Now, I know dialogue is tough to nail, but I found the characters' speech in Minister Without Portfolio to sound too fake to believe. Not that they weren't believably from Newfoundland, no, the slang and accents were well preserved. Instead, I found myself rolling my eyes when characters would speak in alternating platitudes to each other in order to sort out their lives.
I finished this book the day following its ejection from this year's Canada Reads competition. With the sheer amount of stylistic variation between all of this year's selections, it comes as no personal surprise that the most understated novel of the bunch was the first to be eliminated. Some people may connect with the slow pace and meandering plot line of Minister Without Portfolio, but it definitely doesn't surprise me that many readers have failed to engage with the story in a meaningful way. The characters can be tough to like, the plot doesn't really go anywhere interesting, and it was a real chore for me to get through this one.
I'm happy to have this one out of the way and move on from what I found to be an extremely weak year for Canada Reads.
Man, what an absolute drag of a read.
Minister Without Portfolio's two parts could be easily summarized in two quick sentences. Part 1: Henry gets dumped, goes to Afghanistan, is traumatized, goes out West to work, but has to come back to Newfoundland. Part 2: Henry's got a house to build, a relationship to sort out and has to meet the b'ys from around the bay. After the quick clip of the first 30 pages, Minister Without Portfolio becomes a decompressed read that was an absolute slog-fest for me to get through.
My issue isn't with Winter's sparse style, but rather with the excruciating pace of the novel. After beginning with an opening that moves quickly from place to place and culminates in the death of one of his friends, Henry begins a long road to recovery and personal betterment. The plot sounded appealing and I was hoping to gain insight into the plight of labourers who have to travel away for work, but instead found an extremely dull storyline that never gripped me. Henry's evolution by the end of the novel is believable, it's just that I was never invested in any of the characters enough to care about where they ended up. It's also not that I couldn't see what Winter was trying to do with the novel, it just failed to provoke any personal response.
Also, full disclosure, I currently live in Newfoundland and have for some time. The brief moments of recognition of places I knew, or descriptions of the barren landscape of "The Rock" were some of the sections I found most interesting. Now, I know dialogue is tough to nail, but I found the characters' speech in Minister Without Portfolio to sound too fake to believe. Not that they weren't believably from Newfoundland, no, the slang and accents were well preserved. Instead, I found myself rolling my eyes when characters would speak in alternating platitudes to each other in order to sort out their lives.
I finished this book the day following its ejection from this year's Canada Reads competition. With the sheer amount of stylistic variation between all of this year's selections, it comes as no personal surprise that the most understated novel of the bunch was the first to be eliminated. Some people may connect with the slow pace and meandering plot line of Minister Without Portfolio, but it definitely doesn't surprise me that many readers have failed to engage with the story in a meaningful way. The characters can be tough to like, the plot doesn't really go anywhere interesting, and it was a real chore for me to get through this one.
I'm happy to have this one out of the way and move on from what I found to be an extremely weak year for Canada Reads.
May 25, 2015
Let's not be Americans, Tender said. Let's be outlaws. Except for Henry -- he's our minister without portfolio.
What the hell is that.
You're not committed to anything but you got a hand in everywhere.
Henry accepted this.
From the first page of Minister Without Portfolio, I had to wonder if Michael Winter is in a writer's group with fellow Newfies Lisa Moore and Jessica Grant (and I have no reason yet to believe he isn't) since they seem to share some literary quirks -- lack of quotation marks, question marks, and in Winter's case, apostrophes in words like arent and couldnt. For example: How would he do this. Who was she to him. What did he need and what did she need. Do we need people. Parents, offspring, census reports. Marry her. That's a lovely stream of consciousness, and since I don't punctuate my own thoughts, and since Moore and Grant each wrote one of the favourite books I've read so far this year, the comparison is a favourable one.
As the book begins, Henry Hayward, the young-and-selfish/hard-working-hard-partying protagonist, loses his girlfriend and his home in one conversation:
She told him there wasn't another person. Henry watched her stand up from her kitchen table and push things around on a counter. She peeled up the foam placemats that made that satisfying sound. She was busying herself and of course he was in her house, he was the one who would have to physically leave. For three hours they talked it over and she told him how it was and he fled through the spectrum of emotions and they were both cleansed but she returned to what was not an ultimatum. I'm leaving you now can you please leave.
But I love you, he said.
Ah, peeling up foam placemats from a laminate countertop does make the most satisfying of sounds; I knew that Winter was talking my language. And then these images, beautiful and thought-provoking:
The alert daylight made him stagger to the house of his best friend, feeling small and without a shell. He felt himself evaporating and it scared him. He let the sun warm his shoulders and kidneys and fill him up, the sun pushed him to John and Silvia's.
He spoke of Henry as if he were an old shed built with found wood. Which he was. Which we all are.
Henry is convinced to snap out of his funk by going to Kandahar on a civilian contract, where he and his best friend John will be able to spend time with another old friend, Tender Morris, who is an army reservist who volunteered to join the Afghanistan campaign. I really enjoyed the description of the Canadian presence in Afghanistan -- the shoestring budgets and serious soldiers being supported by the profiteers from back home (from the little "fixers" to SNC-Lavalin) and creating photo-ops for the Defense Minister -- this section felt true and honest. And I was intrigued by this pontification by the drunken Tender Morris:
Let's turn our voices into marches, Tender said. Let us pass by the injured and those that throw stones (he motioned to the Americans) and alter a law through a circuitous route. Come on guys.
Henry and John had no idea what Tender was talking about. Obviously, he had time to read, like a fisheries observer…
Hurt those you mean to help, Tender said. We'll take your ride and be a member of the steering committee for the marketplace of ideas that fights against the very same structure put in place by your bilderberg group!
That's not my usual image of the screech-fuelled Newfie and the scene serves to underscore the tragedy that soon follows:
When Henry returns to Newfoundland (after a disastrous return to work in Fort McMurray), he decides to repair a falling down house in a community of a couple hundred people -- roughly the responsibility figuratively assigned to him as a "minister without portfolio" -- and the home renovation serves as a metaphor for the reconstruction and rehabilitation of Henry's own life: No longer adrift and selfish, Henry is determined to create a home and salvage a legacy. At this point, where Henry has pushed through his pain, the book started to lose me a bit; it turned into a string of vignettes instead of the introspective study I thought it had started as. The passage about Henry falling into an incinerator was interesting, but I had actually read that story in the newspaper when it happened to the author in real life -- I'm sure that all authors use events from their own lives in their fiction, but recognising this story made me wonder about each scene that followed: Did Winter have a brush fire burn out of control? Has he tried to row a dory across a cove in the fog? These musings took me out of the narrative. And the pronouncements from this point felt less profound:
Being driven to a place is much different than driving there yourself. The world involved in its own copulation.
We are living in a time where it is easier to know more about a stranger's family by researching online than it is to know one's own. History is the constant upheaval of peregrination.
And even though this image would probably have delighted me if it was in Come Thou Tortoise, it seemed out of place in this book, as though the character had been indulging in the psychotropic ayahuasca that her ex-husband had smuggled into Canada:
His mother kept grudges , but limited them, so she got over much grief by drying out the grievances on a clothesline then stacking them in a little drawer behind her ear.
In the end, I think the disconnect is entirely my own : I was expecting another Come, Thou Tortoise or February and Minister Without Portfolio was something entirely different. This might be the difference between fiction written by men and women; a difference that doesn't reflect on quality. My brother recently showed me this video, telling me it's hilarious:
It's Not About the Nail
After I watched it, I said, "You can tell that was written and produced by a man. I know that men and women approach problems differently, but nothing makes me crazier than when I tell Dave a story, and instead of just listening to me, he tells me what I've got to do." That is rarely what I'm looking for: I can solve problems, honestly. In the three books I'm thinking about here, each of which deals with loss and grief, the two written by women explore the emotions and inner reactions of female protagonists -- and those books had a profound effect on me. In Minister Without Portfolio, we are shown Henry's reaction through the responsibilities he's willing to take on, the roots he puts down, and the literal rebuilding of a house -- and I couldn't connect to this on a deep level, though I do appreciate the artistry of the work.
Books about Newfoundland are a genre unto themselves and I have great affection for the place and its people. Michael Winter obviously shares this affection and writes strikingly when it's of his home:
Like a lot of Newfoundlanders, though, he pictured an acre of land in his head that was his land. The picture has no location, it's a floating acre with a perforated edge like a postage stamp that hovers slightly above the land, though there is, of course, a view of the Atlantic.
And even the characters are overwhelmed by the beauty of their surroundings:
Just because an experience is an old one -- being affected by nature -- doesn't mean it shouldn't affect the heart…Let yourself be humbled by the experiences people have been having for thousands of years. And speak of it.
In Minister Without Portfolio Michael Winter fulfills this duty of speaking, crafting an entertaining and intriguing story -- not only set in the starkly beautiful province of Newfoundland, but so Canadian that beavers make intermittent appearances. It only misses the mark where it doesn't conform to my expectations, but that is hardly a complaint.
February 28, 2016
[I updated my review after some discussion with a book group. See [EDIT] at the bottom for addition.]
Please note that this isn't a review so much as some of my notes from an email-based discussion of the book. If you are going to get offended by somebody who didn't like a book that you loved, please do not continue reading this.
Yet again, I'm the guy who doesn't "get" the book that everybody else seems to like.
Maybe I was just ecstatic because my ereader said that there was only 12 minutes left before the book was done (thank goodness), but I finally found two things that I really liked about the book. Two sentences, actually. Out of the whole damn book, two sentences.
1. referring to the "fiercely closed eyes" of a newborn baby. I like the description.
2. after the baby was born, "They both felt it astonishing that they were being allowed to take this infant away from the machinery of the world and become responsible". I thought that he captured my feelings perfectly, especially as we were leaving the hospital with a child of my own. It really seemed like they were letting us loose with no idea of how to take care of a new, completely vulnerable human being. Which is exactly what was happening, but he described the feeling in a single line.
Okay, I just finished the epilogue. I really liked this part:
"He walked over to the other door and opened it and unclicked his daughter and she reached up to his neck and tugged herself out of the car seat. He called to her. Tender, Tender. Even though this was not her name and not one of the dozen names they both called her. It was his private word, not to name her, but for her to ave a memory of the name - a happiness as she held on to the neck of this man raising her." Why wasn't the rest of the book like this?
Overall, I really disliked the book. I didn't care for the characters, the storyline (if there was much of one), and even the strange narrative way that it was written - my favorite part of the whole damn thing - started to annoy me halfway through when I had no idea who was talking at any given moment. Maybe there's a reason why authors have generally accepted standard narrative formats throughout the centuries.
However, somebody who is smarter than me with books would probably be able to pick out a ton of interesting bits and pieces throughout this book. I am sure that the beaver was supposed to be symbolic, although I've got no idea what for (and it was the most blatantly obvious of the bunch). There must be others. Unfortunately for the author, I have zero interest in going online and finding out more. I'm happy to chalk this up to a sub-par experience and walk away. The last time I had such a lack of interest in a book was when I attempted to read "the Golem and the Jinni" and "The Luminaries". Both books won a billion awards, so I'm obviously swimming against the stream on them, but they just weren't compatible with my tastes.
If I was even slightly interested in the book, I'd flip back to the beginning and try to clarify how long the guy spent in Afghanistan. I was under the impression that it was for a single contract, maybe 2 or 3 months, 6 at the most, but the whole book refers to these memories he had of Afghanistan. Maybe that was it, and might make the book far more interesting than I think it is... if he actually spent a relatively short time there, but it was so traumatic and powerful that he kept making these psychological and emotional links to the country for months and years after. I think that I've had a similar experience, where I spent a few months away from home the first time and I still keep recounting the memories from that short period, artificially exaggerating the effect that it could realistically have had on me.
Does anybody think that the narrator had a screw loose? Did he completely make up the scenario at the end where he was sure that those guys had a plan to torch the house and possibly kill the guy who was there? Did the incinerator thing actually happen? I was so happy that the guy might die in there and the last hundred pages of the book might just be blank (no such luck), but now I'm wondering if the whole thing might be a PTSD fever dream.
[discussion shifts to the question of love - I removed the comments from the other party in the discussion]
I don't think that he felt any love in his relationship with the widow. I think that it was purely his sense of responsibility. He felt obligated to take care of her, Tender's house and the baby. The baby was the first time that he showed any emotion, but it was still focused on ensuring that the baby had some memory of Tender's name.
He was so irresponsible in the book (nearly drowning however many times, falling into an incinerator, setting the fire) that it seemed to me like a depressed guy who was just tempting death the whole time, even if it was endangering the people around him. By the way, falling into an incinerator - who *does* that??? Michael Winter actually did, back in 2006, and Johnny Cash described a similar situation in 1963.
Seems to me like the guy was just emotionally numb throughout the whole book, starting at (or before) his divorce with his wife and finally cracking when the child was born. I'm sure that's symbolic somehow.
Conclusion:
Not a terrible book, just I really had to search to find something I liked about it. Reading is, to me, supposed to be something enjoyable. I didn't enjoy this and would not have read it if it wasn't for Canada Reads and my book discussion group. I was thinking of giving it two stars because the author was kind enough to keep the book short, but the fact that he only tortured me for a few hours shouldn't be considered too much of a positive.
EDIT (late February 2016):
[from email-based book discussion. Somebody mentioned that she liked the character in the epilogue far more than in the rest of the book.]
For a book that we all complained about, it sure gives us enough to talk about. I think that this one might actually make it further than I thought!
Maybe it was the whole intention of the author from the beginning. He wanted to wear us down, physically and emotionally, via intense boredom, just to emphasize the character's transformation at the end. If so, he really committed to the idea.
I must have forgotten how much I disliked the book, because now I'm talking about it, I think that the book is a lot more interesting. Like some sort of literary Stockholm Syndrome, now I'm doubting that he tortured me and actually had good intentions the whole time.
Please note that this isn't a review so much as some of my notes from an email-based discussion of the book. If you are going to get offended by somebody who didn't like a book that you loved, please do not continue reading this.
Yet again, I'm the guy who doesn't "get" the book that everybody else seems to like.
Maybe I was just ecstatic because my ereader said that there was only 12 minutes left before the book was done (thank goodness), but I finally found two things that I really liked about the book. Two sentences, actually. Out of the whole damn book, two sentences.
1. referring to the "fiercely closed eyes" of a newborn baby. I like the description.
2. after the baby was born, "They both felt it astonishing that they were being allowed to take this infant away from the machinery of the world and become responsible". I thought that he captured my feelings perfectly, especially as we were leaving the hospital with a child of my own. It really seemed like they were letting us loose with no idea of how to take care of a new, completely vulnerable human being. Which is exactly what was happening, but he described the feeling in a single line.
Okay, I just finished the epilogue. I really liked this part:
"He walked over to the other door and opened it and unclicked his daughter and she reached up to his neck and tugged herself out of the car seat. He called to her. Tender, Tender. Even though this was not her name and not one of the dozen names they both called her. It was his private word, not to name her, but for her to ave a memory of the name - a happiness as she held on to the neck of this man raising her." Why wasn't the rest of the book like this?
Overall, I really disliked the book. I didn't care for the characters, the storyline (if there was much of one), and even the strange narrative way that it was written - my favorite part of the whole damn thing - started to annoy me halfway through when I had no idea who was talking at any given moment. Maybe there's a reason why authors have generally accepted standard narrative formats throughout the centuries.
However, somebody who is smarter than me with books would probably be able to pick out a ton of interesting bits and pieces throughout this book. I am sure that the beaver was supposed to be symbolic, although I've got no idea what for (and it was the most blatantly obvious of the bunch). There must be others. Unfortunately for the author, I have zero interest in going online and finding out more. I'm happy to chalk this up to a sub-par experience and walk away. The last time I had such a lack of interest in a book was when I attempted to read "the Golem and the Jinni" and "The Luminaries". Both books won a billion awards, so I'm obviously swimming against the stream on them, but they just weren't compatible with my tastes.
If I was even slightly interested in the book, I'd flip back to the beginning and try to clarify how long the guy spent in Afghanistan. I was under the impression that it was for a single contract, maybe 2 or 3 months, 6 at the most, but the whole book refers to these memories he had of Afghanistan. Maybe that was it, and might make the book far more interesting than I think it is... if he actually spent a relatively short time there, but it was so traumatic and powerful that he kept making these psychological and emotional links to the country for months and years after. I think that I've had a similar experience, where I spent a few months away from home the first time and I still keep recounting the memories from that short period, artificially exaggerating the effect that it could realistically have had on me.
Does anybody think that the narrator had a screw loose? Did he completely make up the scenario at the end where he was sure that those guys had a plan to torch the house and possibly kill the guy who was there? Did the incinerator thing actually happen? I was so happy that the guy might die in there and the last hundred pages of the book might just be blank (no such luck), but now I'm wondering if the whole thing might be a PTSD fever dream.
[discussion shifts to the question of love - I removed the comments from the other party in the discussion]
I don't think that he felt any love in his relationship with the widow. I think that it was purely his sense of responsibility. He felt obligated to take care of her, Tender's house and the baby. The baby was the first time that he showed any emotion, but it was still focused on ensuring that the baby had some memory of Tender's name.
He was so irresponsible in the book (nearly drowning however many times, falling into an incinerator, setting the fire) that it seemed to me like a depressed guy who was just tempting death the whole time, even if it was endangering the people around him. By the way, falling into an incinerator - who *does* that??? Michael Winter actually did, back in 2006, and Johnny Cash described a similar situation in 1963.
Seems to me like the guy was just emotionally numb throughout the whole book, starting at (or before) his divorce with his wife and finally cracking when the child was born. I'm sure that's symbolic somehow.
Conclusion:
Not a terrible book, just I really had to search to find something I liked about it. Reading is, to me, supposed to be something enjoyable. I didn't enjoy this and would not have read it if it wasn't for Canada Reads and my book discussion group. I was thinking of giving it two stars because the author was kind enough to keep the book short, but the fact that he only tortured me for a few hours shouldn't be considered too much of a positive.
EDIT (late February 2016):
[from email-based book discussion. Somebody mentioned that she liked the character in the epilogue far more than in the rest of the book.]
For a book that we all complained about, it sure gives us enough to talk about. I think that this one might actually make it further than I thought!
Maybe it was the whole intention of the author from the beginning. He wanted to wear us down, physically and emotionally, via intense boredom, just to emphasize the character's transformation at the end. If so, he really committed to the idea.
I must have forgotten how much I disliked the book, because now I'm talking about it, I think that the book is a lot more interesting. Like some sort of literary Stockholm Syndrome, now I'm doubting that he tortured me and actually had good intentions the whole time.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
January 24, 2016
right upfront, i should probably acknowledge that i have a complete soft spot for literature about newfoundland, and for newfoundland writers. and i fairly adore michael winter. happily, this novel was a great read for me.
minister without portfolio, among many things, presents an intriguing concept: each of us has an orbit of 100 people, people to whom we have responsibilities.
when we first meet henry hayward, his life is not going well. and as the story continues, woes pile upon woes. as hayward works through his traumas and guilt, while rebuilding a century-old shack that lacks power and water, he regroups and tries to remake his life. but hayward is also working out his 100 people and what he's doing for them. (and if this book works for you, you may find yourself thinking about your own people and responsibilities.)
'minister without portfolio' is a concept originally misunderstood by hayward, when he is given the nickname by his friend tender morris. thinking morris meant hayward was wayward (heh!) or rootless, he took it as a not-so-flattering nickname, a reminder of the state of his life. but hayward has a realization later on in the story, one that helps tie things together, about what morris really meant in dubbing hayward 'minister without portfolio'.
winter has admitted his use of real life in the fiction he writes. and that certainly is the case in minister without portfolio a very specific incident occurs to hayward which actually happened to winter (link will be spoiler-y if you haven't read the novel). i had read this walrus essay when it was first published. revisiting it while reading MWP had me a little amused by how much of the essay appears, nearly word-for-word, in the novel. creative nonfiction? creative license with the truth? does it matter? it's an incredible story and winter is a lucky man.
and winter is a funny man, too. there was a lot of humour in this novel which i appreciated. i know that humour in fiction doesn't always work for readers so i am sure this aspect of the novel will vary from reader to reader. but i do believe you have to find the humour in life as often as possible - this can help make the seemingly unbearable manageable, if even for a moment.
winter's writing style is one i quite like. though dealing with weighty issues and traumatic instances, i never felt burdened as a reader. winter's prose could be described as simplistic -- but that shouldn't be confused with 'simple'. i found there to be an elegance in his writing and each sentence felt purposeful and right. his settings are vivid, and his characters interesting and nuanced, and i loved the dialogue.
though i have had this novel since its release, i picked it up now as it is in the running for canada reads 2016. the theme is 'starting over', and i think this is a cool choice to be included. it should make for good debate with the other panelists and books in the running. (oh yeah, in case you don't know -- canada has an annual reality show about books, 'canada reads'!)
a few articles i want to link in here, just to keep as references:
• quill & quire -- winter's move from house of anansi to penguin: http://www.quillandquire.com/authors/...
• winter on 'the next chapter', with shelagh rogers: http://www.cbc.ca/radio/thenextchapte...
• maclean's review: http://www.macleans.ca/culture/books/...
minister without portfolio, among many things, presents an intriguing concept: each of us has an orbit of 100 people, people to whom we have responsibilities.
when we first meet henry hayward, his life is not going well. and as the story continues, woes pile upon woes. as hayward works through his traumas and guilt, while rebuilding a century-old shack that lacks power and water, he regroups and tries to remake his life. but hayward is also working out his 100 people and what he's doing for them. (and if this book works for you, you may find yourself thinking about your own people and responsibilities.)
'minister without portfolio' is a concept originally misunderstood by hayward, when he is given the nickname by his friend tender morris. thinking morris meant hayward was wayward (heh!) or rootless, he took it as a not-so-flattering nickname, a reminder of the state of his life. but hayward has a realization later on in the story, one that helps tie things together, about what morris really meant in dubbing hayward 'minister without portfolio'.
winter has admitted his use of real life in the fiction he writes. and that certainly is the case in minister without portfolio a very specific incident occurs to hayward which actually happened to winter (link will be spoiler-y if you haven't read the novel). i had read this walrus essay when it was first published. revisiting it while reading MWP had me a little amused by how much of the essay appears, nearly word-for-word, in the novel. creative nonfiction? creative license with the truth? does it matter? it's an incredible story and winter is a lucky man.
and winter is a funny man, too. there was a lot of humour in this novel which i appreciated. i know that humour in fiction doesn't always work for readers so i am sure this aspect of the novel will vary from reader to reader. but i do believe you have to find the humour in life as often as possible - this can help make the seemingly unbearable manageable, if even for a moment.
winter's writing style is one i quite like. though dealing with weighty issues and traumatic instances, i never felt burdened as a reader. winter's prose could be described as simplistic -- but that shouldn't be confused with 'simple'. i found there to be an elegance in his writing and each sentence felt purposeful and right. his settings are vivid, and his characters interesting and nuanced, and i loved the dialogue.
though i have had this novel since its release, i picked it up now as it is in the running for canada reads 2016. the theme is 'starting over', and i think this is a cool choice to be included. it should make for good debate with the other panelists and books in the running. (oh yeah, in case you don't know -- canada has an annual reality show about books, 'canada reads'!)
a few articles i want to link in here, just to keep as references:
• quill & quire -- winter's move from house of anansi to penguin: http://www.quillandquire.com/authors/...
• winter on 'the next chapter', with shelagh rogers: http://www.cbc.ca/radio/thenextchapte...
• maclean's review: http://www.macleans.ca/culture/books/...
January 1, 2014
What a wonderful way to finish my reading year. There are so many lines in this book that just stopped me in my tracks - made me stop reading to marvel: "Yes, that is exactly how it is." Clarity that almost hurts.
It's a book about many things, but it's mostly about a person growing up and learning to live in a world that is often hard and mean. And the way he grows up is by stepping into his responsibilities toward other people, tripping and falling, making horrendous mistakes, and then learning from them.
It's full of action and events, but the heart of the story is subtle, still as a pond. Minister Without Portfolio is a great, delicious read, but I feel enlarged by it as well - I'm a better person for reading it. Isn't that the very best a book can do for us?
Thank you, Michael Winter.
It's a book about many things, but it's mostly about a person growing up and learning to live in a world that is often hard and mean. And the way he grows up is by stepping into his responsibilities toward other people, tripping and falling, making horrendous mistakes, and then learning from them.
It's full of action and events, but the heart of the story is subtle, still as a pond. Minister Without Portfolio is a great, delicious read, but I feel enlarged by it as well - I'm a better person for reading it. Isn't that the very best a book can do for us?
Thank you, Michael Winter.
January 23, 2016
I read the first 70 pages then skimmed the middle of the book and read the end. There is no dialogue, just spoken sentences amongst the rest of the prose. The main event happens on page 45 and then it's just characters searching for redemption, being unfaithful, and fixing a house. Not my style of book at all. Plus there are short choppy sentences that don't seem to make sense or move the story forward. None of the characters were appealing. It just all felt flat.
Not a Canada Reads winner in my humble opinion. We'll see what the 2016 panel has to say.
Not a Canada Reads winner in my humble opinion. We'll see what the 2016 panel has to say.
June 18, 2017
This book has had mixed reviews, and was the first book eliminated in the 2016 Canada Reads debates. I had mixed feelings about it as I was reading it. Certainly Henry had some bad breaks in life, but he never seems to just take the bull by the horn and get on with life. I could not get into the mood of the book, in which I guessed the author had wanted to create empathy for Henry's lot in life. Despite the rather unsympathetic protagonist, the writing has at times a very lyrical quality, so it is a fairly pleasant read. The writer can succinctly describe the setting of the book and does not wane on and on with overly wordy descriptions, but still set the reader into the place where the story is taking place.
June 22, 2014
I won this book and as such, I feel obligated to review it. I need to first clarify that as I am not Canadian and incredibly unfamiliar with Canadian military and Newfoundland, I'm sure there were many things I simply culturally couldn't grasp or picture in my mind.
However, I think I could have overcome all of that, if the author could have made me care about a single character or relationship in the book. Nothing feels real, things are vague, there are no quotation marks (sometimes, this is OK, but this book has too many characters and Winter just could not pull it off), and I was lost as to whether a character was remembering something or experiencing it first hand.
The whole premise of the book is that the main character, Henry, is so heartbroken about his girlfriend Nora breaking up with him that he trucks off to Afghanistan with his friends for civilian work for a year. I know NOTHING about Nora - what she looks like, why he loved her, why he is so devastated about their break-up. It's a blank slate.
Henry has friends, but apparently no family. He has no relatives, siblings, cousins - I believe the book mentions his parents once, but where they are or what happened to them is completely missing.
The cover of the ARC says, "How do you come home from war if you leave your best friend far behind?" Just reading that floors me because when that particular character DID DIE, I was shocked because I never got the sense that they were best friends. NOTHING. They were co-workers who had maybe gone to trade school together. But best friends???
I will say Winter's writing was elevated in Part II (although I still don't get why there needed to be a Part II as there was no Part III and no dramatic changes between the first two parts). The best writing in the book comes from the first chapter in Part II. The difference in that chapter alone was so stark it made me think that there were multiple editors for this edition and/or that that there was a big time difference for the author personally as to when he wrote each part.
I cannot tell you how strongly I object to anyone comparing this to Tim O'Brien, which my ARC boldly proclaims. If you want to read about war and what it's like to lose your best friends and how you come home from that, then you read Tim O'Brien.
However, I think I could have overcome all of that, if the author could have made me care about a single character or relationship in the book. Nothing feels real, things are vague, there are no quotation marks (sometimes, this is OK, but this book has too many characters and Winter just could not pull it off), and I was lost as to whether a character was remembering something or experiencing it first hand.
The whole premise of the book is that the main character, Henry, is so heartbroken about his girlfriend Nora breaking up with him that he trucks off to Afghanistan with his friends for civilian work for a year. I know NOTHING about Nora - what she looks like, why he loved her, why he is so devastated about their break-up. It's a blank slate.
Henry has friends, but apparently no family. He has no relatives, siblings, cousins - I believe the book mentions his parents once, but where they are or what happened to them is completely missing.
The cover of the ARC says, "How do you come home from war if you leave your best friend far behind?" Just reading that floors me because when that particular character DID DIE, I was shocked because I never got the sense that they were best friends. NOTHING. They were co-workers who had maybe gone to trade school together. But best friends???
I will say Winter's writing was elevated in Part II (although I still don't get why there needed to be a Part II as there was no Part III and no dramatic changes between the first two parts). The best writing in the book comes from the first chapter in Part II. The difference in that chapter alone was so stark it made me think that there were multiple editors for this edition and/or that that there was a big time difference for the author personally as to when he wrote each part.
I cannot tell you how strongly I object to anyone comparing this to Tim O'Brien, which my ARC boldly proclaims. If you want to read about war and what it's like to lose your best friends and how you come home from that, then you read Tim O'Brien.
January 8, 2014
Henry Hayward is a hard-working man reflecting, in Michael Winter's first-rate novel, many of the characteristics of modern Newfoundland -- he works in the offshore oilfields, relies on his buddies, loves a party and sometimes drinks too much. But he is also aware of deeper dimensions of life and this book is an often profound and moving story of how Henry reorders his world.
The novel is also a hard-edged portrait of Canada's participation in the war in Afghanistan -- where Henry takes on military support contract work to distance himself from a failed romance. The frustrations and dilemmas of helping while occupying emerge vividly. These overseas struggles in turn shape Henry's direction in changing his life.
Michael Winter has written with skill and insight about the dynamics of character and family history in this book. The dialogue amongst people is lively and believable; the tension around incidents is compelling; there is a great deal of humour in the story's details.
At the heart of this novel is the relationship that evolves between Henry and Martha Groves. This is handled beautifully by Winter. This love, in turn, becomes the core of the "community of a hundred" that Henry comes to believe in supporting.
Overall, this is a very good book -- with a sharp edge in its Afghanistan sections -- and considerable emotional depth in its impact.
The novel is also a hard-edged portrait of Canada's participation in the war in Afghanistan -- where Henry takes on military support contract work to distance himself from a failed romance. The frustrations and dilemmas of helping while occupying emerge vividly. These overseas struggles in turn shape Henry's direction in changing his life.
Michael Winter has written with skill and insight about the dynamics of character and family history in this book. The dialogue amongst people is lively and believable; the tension around incidents is compelling; there is a great deal of humour in the story's details.
At the heart of this novel is the relationship that evolves between Henry and Martha Groves. This is handled beautifully by Winter. This love, in turn, becomes the core of the "community of a hundred" that Henry comes to believe in supporting.
Overall, this is a very good book -- with a sharp edge in its Afghanistan sections -- and considerable emotional depth in its impact.
August 20, 2017
Really enjoyed this novel by Michael Winter on life and love and moving on. Little slice of life that is oh so familiar for Atlantic Canadians. Reminded me of Lisa Moore's style of writing.
September 24, 2013
Every once in a while there is a book whose story deals with a place just outside of the periphery of the reader's vision. The narrative is so engrossing that one gets wrapped up in the story because the character is so much like us and maybe we can learn something from that person's actions. All other items in our lives seem to become intrusions until we finish the story. Minister Without Portfolio by Michael Winter is such a book.
Chapter 1
She told him there wasn't another person. Henry watched her stand up from her kitchen table and push things around on a counter. She peeled up the foam placemats that made that satisfying sound. She was busying herself and of course he was in her house, he was the one who would have to physically leave. For three hours they talked it over and she told him how it was and he fled through the spectrum of emotions and they were both cleansed but she returned to what was not an ultimatum. I'm leaving you now can you please leave.
But I love you, he said.
The story deals with Henry Hayward. He has always tried to have a normal life but when his girlfriend leaves him, he decides to join a group of buddies to work with an army-affiliated contracting crew in Afghanistan. Just as he begins to mend - working hard, laughing and enjoying life with his friends - a routine patrol turns fatal, and Henry feels he is responsible.
Link to my complete review
Chapter 1
She told him there wasn't another person. Henry watched her stand up from her kitchen table and push things around on a counter. She peeled up the foam placemats that made that satisfying sound. She was busying herself and of course he was in her house, he was the one who would have to physically leave. For three hours they talked it over and she told him how it was and he fled through the spectrum of emotions and they were both cleansed but she returned to what was not an ultimatum. I'm leaving you now can you please leave.
But I love you, he said.
The story deals with Henry Hayward. He has always tried to have a normal life but when his girlfriend leaves him, he decides to join a group of buddies to work with an army-affiliated contracting crew in Afghanistan. Just as he begins to mend - working hard, laughing and enjoying life with his friends - a routine patrol turns fatal, and Henry feels he is responsible.
Link to my complete review
October 23, 2017
I wavered on rating this book because my reaction was mixed. Probably 3 1/2 stars would be more accurate. What I liked was reading a story from contemporary Newfoundland, I have read much of historic times but nothing closer than Joey Smallwood to the present. Michael showed a vibrant culture of people who have learned to survive in all kinds of ways- some legal some not, many by working away and coming back home when they can. Our hero is on a journey of recovery from losing a friend in Afghanistan, losing a women he loved and losing his grounding. He has a strong feeling that he'd like to make amends and learn to live another way. So his journey begins to find love and goodness.
What didn't work for me was the prose. Michael often wrote in incomplete sentences, vernacular and about people or things I couldn't quite understand in relation to the story. I read a lot and am usually not put off by different styles but this time it interfered with my enjoyment of the story.
What didn't work for me was the prose. Michael often wrote in incomplete sentences, vernacular and about people or things I couldn't quite understand in relation to the story. I read a lot and am usually not put off by different styles but this time it interfered with my enjoyment of the story.
February 4, 2014
This is the first book I have read by this author and it came to my attention when I went to an author reading which included this writer and also Joseph Boyden whose work I very much admire. I am less impressed with Michael Winter's work, largely because I found the prose style very choppy and distracting. I will now go on my usual rant about authors who disregard the basic rules of punctuation. Winter sometimes uses punctuation in the regular manner but then we get long sections where punctuation is not used, and he does this especially with dialogue. In places I found it quite difficult to decode. Having said that, there are occasional flashes of brilliance. The book is set in Newfoundland in a rural area. The characters are interesting and the place itself is part of the fabric of the story. Most of the characters are male and I found it interesting to have a story set in the man's world of work and military life.
February 9, 2015
It's been over a year since I read this book and it still hasn't let me go. I have never been so changed, or challenged, by a novel. It's a quiet and subtle thing. Don't expect fireworks, or loud obnoxious themes. Understatement is at the heart of this book, a deep exploration of self and what to do with the life you're given. An Odyssey, where the only place Henry goes is home and the journey takes place deep within his very being. It's left me with a desire to read more by Michael Winter.
August 29, 2019
In the opening chapters readers meet Henry Haywood, a young man who is still reeling from the breakup of his long term relationship with Nora. After she kicked him out, he tried for an embarrassing three months to get her to change her mind but she had no interest in resuming the relationship and he knew he had to move on. He felt adrift but vowed to get his life back together and in an effort to distance himself from his pain, signed up to work with his buddy John Haynes as a civilian contractor for the Canadian Forces in Afghanistan. Once they arrive in the Middle East, Henry and John meet up with Private Patrick (Tender) Morris), their childhood friend from St. John’s, a reservist who has volunteered for combat duty.
It is not long after their arrival that disaster strikes. Following a night fueled by vodka and cards, the three are not in the best of shape, but set out in a Jeep and stop to investigate a disturbance on the road. But it is a trap, a decoy to distract them and they are suddenly ambushed by a suicide bomber with plastic explosives strapped to his chest. The Jeep explodes. John and Henry survive but Tender dies in the blast. Henry feels partially responsible for Tender’s death because when his buddy had reached for his gun, it was not in the place he usually kept it, in the Jeep’s coffee cup holder. If they had all been in better shape when they started out that morning and stuck to their regular routine, the gun would have been in its usual spot and Tender could have used it to kill the suicide bomber. Henry feels a sense of guilt about the entire incident and down hearted, returns home to Newfoundland.
But home is still filled with painful memories of his failed relationship with Nora, so he heads to Fort McMurray Alberta to work in the mines. Tragedy strikes again when a man loses his legs in a workplace accident. Henry feels misfortune and adversity following him wherever he goes and once again down and out, returns home. There he meets up with Martha, Tender’s partner, who is being consoled by her friends and trying to work through her anger and grief over Tender’s death. Martha is pregnant with Tender’s child and Martha and Henry, trying to recover from past trauma and hurt, gravitate towards one another.
Tender was to inherit an old abandoned house in a rural outport outside a small village. His plan was to renovate it when he returned home, live there with Martha and start a family. The house is all Martha has left of her baby’s father and although she considered selling it, letting it go felt wrong. Henry suggests he buy half and they share it.
In an effort to make amends for what happened to Tender, Henry begins renovating the house but runs into one problem after another with complicated ownership issues for both the land and the building, a hole in the roof that requires immediate repair and sagging porches about to fall apart. There is no well and no electricity. But he begins the work and keeps at it, meeting the neighbors and establishing himself in the small community. As he goes about the work, he and Martha continue to take care of one another and soon become lovers. They are happy to have found one another but are also dealing with the guilt of their new relationship. Although they feel the presence of Tender in the house, they also feel he approves and is encouraging their behavior.
At one point during the renovations Henry goes to the dump to deposit garbage in the incinerator, falls in and almost loses his life but is saved by two men who just happened to be drinking nearby. He also endures two risky trips out to sea when he becomes lost in the fog and later escapes from a forest fire set by careless teenagers.
The work Henry is doing renovating the house gives him a new lease on life and he finds he is enjoying himself as well as his growing relationship with Martha and his neighbors. Martha and Henry come to feel that in some way they are fulfilling Tender’s ambition, doing what he would have done if he had returned from Afghanistan. Henry feels his life taking on new shape and meaning as his relationship with Martha grows, his neighbors become more welcoming and he begins to feel a great attachment to this new home he is helping to create. He has come to love the idea of preserving something of Tender Morris’s house and family and his terrible memories of the morning Tender died are beginning to lose their hold on him.
The Newfoundland setting pervades the entire novel, not just as a backdrop to the story but as an integral part of it. Winter describes the slow pace of life as Henry goes to buy lumber for the roof. The store is full of people who meander and talk. There is no defined lineup for the next person to be waited on as everyone just seems to know who that person is. He also refers to the decline of the fisheries, the shift away from outport culture to the larger towns and the difficult lives of those living on the economic margins of society.
There are many descriptions of the sea with its rogue waves and the riptides, the water pounding on the bedrock, the humpback whales that circle his boat playing with him and the thick, eerie fog that covers the landmarks and the lighthouse when he is lost on the water.
Winter beautifully captures the terror Henry’s experiences when he accidentally falls into the incinerator and realizes he will be burned to death, but Winter then deftly changes perspective and pulls away from Henry’s inner terror to communicate what is happening outside as the men try to save him. The shift is so subtle and skillfully done, that readers lost in the horror of it all, may not notice what he has so accomplished so seamlessly.
The novel also explores what happens when men must leave their homes and families to search for work far away. During their long absences, the women are left behind to manage as best they can and find a way to keep life going. Lonely, they begin to create a life of their own and couples easily drift apart. Even women dedicated to keeping their families together face challenges when their men return and the entire dynamic of family life changes.
The novel is filled with the spare lean prose Winter is known for and he includes much of the local Newfoundland language and color in some of the entertaining supporting characters. He has chosen an interesting title which catches our attention and has important meaning. “A minister without portfolio” is what one of his friends calls Henry, who he says is a man who is not committed to anything, but has a hand in everywhere. The phrase is repeated several times throughout the novel, reinforcing its major theme.
The narrative is filled with substance and nuance as readers follow Henry’s journey to self- renewal. It symbolizes how everyone experiences difficult times but what is important is how they handle it. Bad times as well as good times make people who they are and both are needed to forge a whole complete person. After Tender’s death, Henry and Martha find a way through their grief and guilt to start over without him. They put down roots, have found someone to love and have forged a shared purpose, renovating a house. During that process, Henry finally finds what he has been searching for, a way to live fully, honestly and with meaning. He has restored himself. And it certainly is no accident that the small rural outport where Henry finds himself figuratively and emotionally is called “Renews”.
This novel was longlisted for the Giller prize in 2013, which is a laudable achievement.
It is not long after their arrival that disaster strikes. Following a night fueled by vodka and cards, the three are not in the best of shape, but set out in a Jeep and stop to investigate a disturbance on the road. But it is a trap, a decoy to distract them and they are suddenly ambushed by a suicide bomber with plastic explosives strapped to his chest. The Jeep explodes. John and Henry survive but Tender dies in the blast. Henry feels partially responsible for Tender’s death because when his buddy had reached for his gun, it was not in the place he usually kept it, in the Jeep’s coffee cup holder. If they had all been in better shape when they started out that morning and stuck to their regular routine, the gun would have been in its usual spot and Tender could have used it to kill the suicide bomber. Henry feels a sense of guilt about the entire incident and down hearted, returns home to Newfoundland.
But home is still filled with painful memories of his failed relationship with Nora, so he heads to Fort McMurray Alberta to work in the mines. Tragedy strikes again when a man loses his legs in a workplace accident. Henry feels misfortune and adversity following him wherever he goes and once again down and out, returns home. There he meets up with Martha, Tender’s partner, who is being consoled by her friends and trying to work through her anger and grief over Tender’s death. Martha is pregnant with Tender’s child and Martha and Henry, trying to recover from past trauma and hurt, gravitate towards one another.
Tender was to inherit an old abandoned house in a rural outport outside a small village. His plan was to renovate it when he returned home, live there with Martha and start a family. The house is all Martha has left of her baby’s father and although she considered selling it, letting it go felt wrong. Henry suggests he buy half and they share it.
In an effort to make amends for what happened to Tender, Henry begins renovating the house but runs into one problem after another with complicated ownership issues for both the land and the building, a hole in the roof that requires immediate repair and sagging porches about to fall apart. There is no well and no electricity. But he begins the work and keeps at it, meeting the neighbors and establishing himself in the small community. As he goes about the work, he and Martha continue to take care of one another and soon become lovers. They are happy to have found one another but are also dealing with the guilt of their new relationship. Although they feel the presence of Tender in the house, they also feel he approves and is encouraging their behavior.
At one point during the renovations Henry goes to the dump to deposit garbage in the incinerator, falls in and almost loses his life but is saved by two men who just happened to be drinking nearby. He also endures two risky trips out to sea when he becomes lost in the fog and later escapes from a forest fire set by careless teenagers.
The work Henry is doing renovating the house gives him a new lease on life and he finds he is enjoying himself as well as his growing relationship with Martha and his neighbors. Martha and Henry come to feel that in some way they are fulfilling Tender’s ambition, doing what he would have done if he had returned from Afghanistan. Henry feels his life taking on new shape and meaning as his relationship with Martha grows, his neighbors become more welcoming and he begins to feel a great attachment to this new home he is helping to create. He has come to love the idea of preserving something of Tender Morris’s house and family and his terrible memories of the morning Tender died are beginning to lose their hold on him.
The Newfoundland setting pervades the entire novel, not just as a backdrop to the story but as an integral part of it. Winter describes the slow pace of life as Henry goes to buy lumber for the roof. The store is full of people who meander and talk. There is no defined lineup for the next person to be waited on as everyone just seems to know who that person is. He also refers to the decline of the fisheries, the shift away from outport culture to the larger towns and the difficult lives of those living on the economic margins of society.
There are many descriptions of the sea with its rogue waves and the riptides, the water pounding on the bedrock, the humpback whales that circle his boat playing with him and the thick, eerie fog that covers the landmarks and the lighthouse when he is lost on the water.
Winter beautifully captures the terror Henry’s experiences when he accidentally falls into the incinerator and realizes he will be burned to death, but Winter then deftly changes perspective and pulls away from Henry’s inner terror to communicate what is happening outside as the men try to save him. The shift is so subtle and skillfully done, that readers lost in the horror of it all, may not notice what he has so accomplished so seamlessly.
The novel also explores what happens when men must leave their homes and families to search for work far away. During their long absences, the women are left behind to manage as best they can and find a way to keep life going. Lonely, they begin to create a life of their own and couples easily drift apart. Even women dedicated to keeping their families together face challenges when their men return and the entire dynamic of family life changes.
The novel is filled with the spare lean prose Winter is known for and he includes much of the local Newfoundland language and color in some of the entertaining supporting characters. He has chosen an interesting title which catches our attention and has important meaning. “A minister without portfolio” is what one of his friends calls Henry, who he says is a man who is not committed to anything, but has a hand in everywhere. The phrase is repeated several times throughout the novel, reinforcing its major theme.
The narrative is filled with substance and nuance as readers follow Henry’s journey to self- renewal. It symbolizes how everyone experiences difficult times but what is important is how they handle it. Bad times as well as good times make people who they are and both are needed to forge a whole complete person. After Tender’s death, Henry and Martha find a way through their grief and guilt to start over without him. They put down roots, have found someone to love and have forged a shared purpose, renovating a house. During that process, Henry finally finds what he has been searching for, a way to live fully, honestly and with meaning. He has restored himself. And it certainly is no accident that the small rural outport where Henry finds himself figuratively and emotionally is called “Renews”.
This novel was longlisted for the Giller prize in 2013, which is a laudable achievement.
August 12, 2013
This book started out with the main character, Henry, being quite despondent over the breakup of his relationship. He became a wreck, and turned to alcohol to drown his sorrows. His friends helped him get a work gig in Afghanistan to get away from everything. During his time there, his friend Tender is killed, and Henry feels that he is responsible. He then went to Alberta to take another job, and there is another accident where Henry's co-worker is hurt. Henry decides to return home feeling that he is cursed, and shouldn't work with anyone.
When Henry returned home and decided to take on the task of rebuilding the house, I thought that it was just a way of working through his guilt. It likely was but I also felt that by doing this he was rebuilding himself, changing the things he needed to, and becoming more responsible. It was good to see Henry's character grow and become a better man. I wouldn't say that Henry was a very likeable character, but the changes in his attitude and the responsibilities that he took on made me appreciate him more.
It was interesting to read about Henry dealing with Tender's death, and how he began to reconcile that. I didn't expect him to get together with Martha. Their relationship seemed a bit difficult at first, but eventually they seemed to sort everything out and make things work.
I enjoyed the author's descriptive writing. I felt that he really captured the scenery and way of life in small town Newfoundland. The characters became familiar to me, and I liked how realistic they were.
Overall, the book seemed fairly serious to me. I read slowly and at times would put it down to think about what I had just read. I wouldn't say it was one of those feel good type of stories, but I was happy how things turned out for Henry. It was an engaging and interesting story, and I appreciated the opportunity to read it.
I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads. Thank you!
When Henry returned home and decided to take on the task of rebuilding the house, I thought that it was just a way of working through his guilt. It likely was but I also felt that by doing this he was rebuilding himself, changing the things he needed to, and becoming more responsible. It was good to see Henry's character grow and become a better man. I wouldn't say that Henry was a very likeable character, but the changes in his attitude and the responsibilities that he took on made me appreciate him more.
It was interesting to read about Henry dealing with Tender's death, and how he began to reconcile that. I didn't expect him to get together with Martha. Their relationship seemed a bit difficult at first, but eventually they seemed to sort everything out and make things work.
I enjoyed the author's descriptive writing. I felt that he really captured the scenery and way of life in small town Newfoundland. The characters became familiar to me, and I liked how realistic they were.
Overall, the book seemed fairly serious to me. I read slowly and at times would put it down to think about what I had just read. I wouldn't say it was one of those feel good type of stories, but I was happy how things turned out for Henry. It was an engaging and interesting story, and I appreciated the opportunity to read it.
I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads. Thank you!
February 4, 2014
The protagonist's story in "Minister Without Portfolio" is largely defined by the tragic death of a soldier-friend in Afghanistan, itself the result of an attack he witnessed all the bloody details of and the consequences for which he felt himself partly to blame. Henry, the protagonist, had gone there for work and a change after a painful break-up, not as a soldier and never expecting to come face-to-face with death.
Most of the characters in this book have known each other since childhood, and, although we accompany Henry from Canada to Afghanistan and back, most of the story takes place in small, windswept villages along the coast of Newfoundland.
After returning home to Canada, we follow Henry as he sets off for work in Alberta, where a work-related accident occurs, which ultimately leads him back to Newfoundland where his journey began. He is inadvertently drawn to the life that his friend in Afghanistan might have returned to had he lived. Henry struggles with this, particularly with the role he believes he played in his friend's death, and he also confronts his own issues, some of which led to the failed relationship from his past. Ultimately this book is about acceptance and healing.
The author is exceptional in the details. I could almost smell the sea and feel the sting of Arctic winds. I was impressed by how artful and insightful the dialogue is between characters, as well as the way the author composed Henry's thoughts and perceptions as they occurred, particularly how convincingly it was written. I did find it occasionally difficult to distinguish between spoken dialogue and Henry's awareness, however much I appreciate the stylistic approach.
This novel demands some investment, but it is very lyrical and beautifully written. Anyone who appreciates the artistry of elegant prose should enjoy this book.
I received this book as an Early Reviewer, but that did not influence my review.
Most of the characters in this book have known each other since childhood, and, although we accompany Henry from Canada to Afghanistan and back, most of the story takes place in small, windswept villages along the coast of Newfoundland.
After returning home to Canada, we follow Henry as he sets off for work in Alberta, where a work-related accident occurs, which ultimately leads him back to Newfoundland where his journey began. He is inadvertently drawn to the life that his friend in Afghanistan might have returned to had he lived. Henry struggles with this, particularly with the role he believes he played in his friend's death, and he also confronts his own issues, some of which led to the failed relationship from his past. Ultimately this book is about acceptance and healing.
The author is exceptional in the details. I could almost smell the sea and feel the sting of Arctic winds. I was impressed by how artful and insightful the dialogue is between characters, as well as the way the author composed Henry's thoughts and perceptions as they occurred, particularly how convincingly it was written. I did find it occasionally difficult to distinguish between spoken dialogue and Henry's awareness, however much I appreciate the stylistic approach.
This novel demands some investment, but it is very lyrical and beautifully written. Anyone who appreciates the artistry of elegant prose should enjoy this book.
I received this book as an Early Reviewer, but that did not influence my review.
August 14, 2016
This book didn’t live up to its potential. Winter does a great job capturing the complex relationships that underpin rural life, but, in other respects the book disappoints. It lacks direction (not unlike the main character, Henry Hayward, who is sometimes described as a Minister Without Portfolio), has sloppy writing and unorthodox word choices. I mean isn’t this sentence a little odd -- Henry and Martha climbed down this hill with their bathing products. -- Bathing products? Really? What is this some kind of commercial? And who calls outdated exercises “overturned”? Yup. Michael Winter on page 70.
Sometimes it seemed the author was stretching for profound thoughts and it all came across as too contrived for me. Here’s an example -- The lighthouse is a seagull and the grey fortifications are its young, camouflaged against rock. What did that suggest? The fledglings of our birth arise from a militaristic past --You got to be kidding me!
Another paragraph that really got to me was -- Martha was a physiotherapist and worked at the Health Sciences Centre. She treated a number of work-related injuries and, in the past few years, soldiers. She described this stainless steel tool she used for superficial tissue work. And then she got tired of explaining work. -- Say what? I work closely with a dozen physiotherapists and I have no idea what Winter is talking about. Assuming such a tool even exists, why would a physiotherapist go to such lengths describing it when explaining her work in general terms? It's just odd.
One final thing that bothered me about this book – Henry was so accident prone I was a nervous wreck wondering who would get hurt next. It was a great relief to see the baby didn’t die of asphyxiation in the book's final pages.
Sometimes it seemed the author was stretching for profound thoughts and it all came across as too contrived for me. Here’s an example -- The lighthouse is a seagull and the grey fortifications are its young, camouflaged against rock. What did that suggest? The fledglings of our birth arise from a militaristic past --You got to be kidding me!
Another paragraph that really got to me was -- Martha was a physiotherapist and worked at the Health Sciences Centre. She treated a number of work-related injuries and, in the past few years, soldiers. She described this stainless steel tool she used for superficial tissue work. And then she got tired of explaining work. -- Say what? I work closely with a dozen physiotherapists and I have no idea what Winter is talking about. Assuming such a tool even exists, why would a physiotherapist go to such lengths describing it when explaining her work in general terms? It's just odd.
One final thing that bothered me about this book – Henry was so accident prone I was a nervous wreck wondering who would get hurt next. It was a great relief to see the baby didn’t die of asphyxiation in the book's final pages.
March 19, 2016
Henry Hayward is the minister without portfolio. All his friends seem to have a role to play; soldier, father, construction foreman. Henry drifts from role to role with no portfolio and he starts to feel that he needs something of his own. The weird thing about Henry is that he doesn't develop his own thing, rather he takes ownership of what others have done or have given him. I love this book because in the story telling Winter captures Newfoundland and the Newfoundlander ways. They have a way of being home even when they have to travel away. On the other hand, those who are from away are always from away even when they are home. In my mind, Winter captures this perfectly. This book is a Canada Reads book this year because it perfectly fits the theme of "those who are forced to make a major change in their life." At the same time these Newfoundland characters handle change without changing at all. Well done and well worth the read!!
May 30, 2016
Whiny narrator. Boring plot. Lack of quotation marks (why, do you think you're Joyce or something?).
I picked up Minister Without Portfolio because it made the short list for Canada Reads 2015(16?). My Can-Lit professor suggested to follow the event and read one of the books, this was the one I picked. Unfortunately I bought the book before I watched the event, and saw it was the first novel voted out. I understand why. I don't know what makes this book so special and nominated for all these Canadian awards, there's MUCH better Can-Lit available.
Writing style with a mix between James Patterson, and James Joyce (not to suggest that this novel can really compare to either of those authors), not quite sure what Michael Winter was going for with this one.
Over all, Bleh. That's my official review. Bleh. Waste of time.
I picked up Minister Without Portfolio because it made the short list for Canada Reads 2015(16?). My Can-Lit professor suggested to follow the event and read one of the books, this was the one I picked. Unfortunately I bought the book before I watched the event, and saw it was the first novel voted out. I understand why. I don't know what makes this book so special and nominated for all these Canadian awards, there's MUCH better Can-Lit available.
Writing style with a mix between James Patterson, and James Joyce (not to suggest that this novel can really compare to either of those authors), not quite sure what Michael Winter was going for with this one.
Over all, Bleh. That's my official review. Bleh. Waste of time.
April 12, 2017
I was unable to finish this book. I gave up reading pretty soon because the writing style was terrible. I couldn’t get past how frustrating it was to read and understand. The whole book is written stream of consciousness style, which makes it very distracting to the plot and I found it very difficult to follow the story. There are no quotation marks around the dialogue either, which is another frustrating aspect to this book. I found this book boring, and I abandoned it because I realized I didn’t care about the plot, the characters, or anything else. I’m unsure whether the theme of “starting over” applies to this book, but I assume it would. In the Canada Reads competition, this book was the first to be eliminated.
March 21, 2016
Minister Without Portfolio was part of Canada Reads 2016, "Starting Over". I struggled with Henry to be honest. His character was a distant and cold one for me - I associated him and his behaviour with a kind of "throw your hands up and walk away" every time things went wrong for him, rather than an attempt to embrace starting over. He wallowed in self pity I suppose. And maybe it's the way MWP is written, but I can't truly say that since I didn't have a problem with Winter's style of short, clipped sentences, fragments at times. .
August 9, 2013
I received this book in a Goodreads giveaway and was overjoyed to read this latest book by Newfoundland author Michael Winter.
This is a book that personifies Newfoundland. The love of the landscape and the importance of family and friends shines through Winter's lovely prose. While working as a civilian contractor in Afghanistan, Henry Hayward is characterized by his friend as a minister without portfolio because he is not committed to anything, but has a hand in everything. Henry proves his friend wrong as he finally finds a woman and a place worthy of commitment.
This is a book that personifies Newfoundland. The love of the landscape and the importance of family and friends shines through Winter's lovely prose. While working as a civilian contractor in Afghanistan, Henry Hayward is characterized by his friend as a minister without portfolio because he is not committed to anything, but has a hand in everything. Henry proves his friend wrong as he finally finds a woman and a place worthy of commitment.
August 10, 2013
I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads. I like reading a book about Canadians written by a Canadian. I was a little lost and confused for the first few chapters, but once I got the rhythm, things got moving along just fine. It's a look into one mans world and the decisions he is faced with, and dealing with the past while getting on with the present and future. I want to know more! Very good! I recommend this book!
April 3, 2016
I have to be honest: neither the style nor the narrative of this worked for me, and I never developed an interest in the fate of anyone the novel follows, particularly the protagonist. There is one thing, though. It's interesting that I read this on the heels of having a conversation with someone about the quieter ways in which PTSD can manifest itself, and in places I found that really effectively portrayed here.
April 17, 2023
My GOODNESS what a slog. Stylistically this was a huge miss for me. The lack of punctuation, flat dialogue and stream-0f-consciousness run-on sentences were so difficult to pay attention to that I struggled to absorb a single word. You know it's bad when I have to force myself to read a certain number of pages a day to hit a deadline.
August 3, 2023
Winter is a Newfoundland author, affiliated with the Burning Rock Collective, and as far as I can tell this is the last novel he has written. "Minister without Portfolio" is about contemporary Newfoundland, focused on a character who very much reflects modern Newfoundland. He is rooted in the island and its eastern shore (St. John’s, the Avalon Peninsula) but work takes him far afield (Trinity Bay) and then off island (Afghanistan, Alberta) to make a living. I label this financial reality “modern,” but to be more precise it is more a continuation of historical reality: Newfoundland has always produced more people than it could support economically, and a portion of the population leaves the island to find work. Alistair MacLeod explores a similar reality for Nova Scotia in "No Great Mischief."
"Minister without Portfolio" seem to me like a guide on how to make a life in Newfoundland, particularly life in a small outport town, with all the difficulties, pitfalls, and dangers folded in along with the joys and rewards. Winter creates and then maintains an extraordinary tension between the joys and the dangers throughout the novel. It’s kind of a roller coaster ride, but that tension is what keeps the novel moving. The book begins with the protagonist’s first crisis, an identity crisis: his girlfriend of many years severs their relationship, and he is at a complete loss. The book is a search for self or the remaking of self, and its arc is a series of “drafts” ending with a self that is more satisfying because the protagonist has found a way to live in and integrate with a shore community. The question for Henry, the protagonist who has lost all confidence, is how.
Henry is part of a group of friends who have been together for a long time (school, tech school), and even as their lives take them in all sorts of directions to all sorts of places, they maintain their friendships. Even though Henry loses his girlfriend, he does not lose the community, which rallies around him. On this foundation, Winter builds Henry’s story using a series of tragedies (potential and real) and the DIY capability of Newfoundlanders. Besides the tension between danger and joys, Henry’s character–and the novel as a whole–develops through the tension between tragedies/disasters and creative problem solving. As the reader, I come to expect that the roller coaster narrative will regularly come off the rails and then somehow be patched up and put back on track. (Okay. That’s enough of the roller coaster metaphor.)
The book is broken into two parts: 1) From the time his girlfriend breaks up with him to when he first settles in the outport community of Renews; 2) Integrating into Renews.
In the first section, besides the breakup, there are other two shocks to Henry’s sense of self. In the first, he has been hired by a friend as a civilian contractor in Afghanistan, and a careless act on his part contributes to the death of that friend when they are patrolling, ill advisedly, outside the camp. Because Henry has had so much work experience, he feels that he can adapt to whatever he finds outside the camp, even without proper military training, but his creative problem solving skills–a cornerstone of his identity–are not enough. The feelings of guilt and loss lead him back to Newfoundland, where he dwells on his self-doubts until he gets another contracting job, this time in Alberta. He is working on a team that is operating a giant drill, a complicated machine, deep below the surface. The drill breaks down, and rather than wait for a tech who is qualified to fix the drill, Henry and a co-worker decide to try and fix it, and do, except that they are in the machine, and they had forgotten to turn the power off. As the drill begins to work again, it breaks the arms of the co-worker. Again, Henry is overcome by guilt and self-doubt. For all of his training, or perhaps because of it, Henry’s DIY sensibility not only gets him in trouble but gets others hurt or killed. So he returns to Newfoundland to once again find a place for himself.
By the end of the first section, Henry has discovered that he doesn’t belong in St. John’s (big city), Afghanistan, or Alberta. In the second section, circumstances lead him to the outport of Renews (small population, out of the way, no war, no heavy industry), an old-fashioned place on the edge of the modern world: a safe place where he can find himself, be with others without endangering them, and become the husband, father, good community citizen he has always imagined he could be. Henry puts the dangers of the larger world behind him, but Winter then throws all the dangers of outport Newfoundland at him to negotiate (family, property, ownership, feuds, the weather, the sea, the tides, old houses, boats, fish, whales, sex, generations, old timers, newcomers). While the threats of Renews are many, and the novel continues to feel like a roller coaster running off and on the tracks (Sorry, I couldn’t resist the metaphor again), the threats are not as off-putting, not as catastrophic, and Henry navigates them with much greater success, and although those dangers do not abate Henry’s DIY skills, along with the DIY skills of everyone else on the shore, seem equal to the dangers. Henry finds his place. An interesting happy ending, still fraught and full of tensions, but happy.
"Minister without Portfolio" seem to me like a guide on how to make a life in Newfoundland, particularly life in a small outport town, with all the difficulties, pitfalls, and dangers folded in along with the joys and rewards. Winter creates and then maintains an extraordinary tension between the joys and the dangers throughout the novel. It’s kind of a roller coaster ride, but that tension is what keeps the novel moving. The book begins with the protagonist’s first crisis, an identity crisis: his girlfriend of many years severs their relationship, and he is at a complete loss. The book is a search for self or the remaking of self, and its arc is a series of “drafts” ending with a self that is more satisfying because the protagonist has found a way to live in and integrate with a shore community. The question for Henry, the protagonist who has lost all confidence, is how.
Henry is part of a group of friends who have been together for a long time (school, tech school), and even as their lives take them in all sorts of directions to all sorts of places, they maintain their friendships. Even though Henry loses his girlfriend, he does not lose the community, which rallies around him. On this foundation, Winter builds Henry’s story using a series of tragedies (potential and real) and the DIY capability of Newfoundlanders. Besides the tension between danger and joys, Henry’s character–and the novel as a whole–develops through the tension between tragedies/disasters and creative problem solving. As the reader, I come to expect that the roller coaster narrative will regularly come off the rails and then somehow be patched up and put back on track. (Okay. That’s enough of the roller coaster metaphor.)
The book is broken into two parts: 1) From the time his girlfriend breaks up with him to when he first settles in the outport community of Renews; 2) Integrating into Renews.
In the first section, besides the breakup, there are other two shocks to Henry’s sense of self. In the first, he has been hired by a friend as a civilian contractor in Afghanistan, and a careless act on his part contributes to the death of that friend when they are patrolling, ill advisedly, outside the camp. Because Henry has had so much work experience, he feels that he can adapt to whatever he finds outside the camp, even without proper military training, but his creative problem solving skills–a cornerstone of his identity–are not enough. The feelings of guilt and loss lead him back to Newfoundland, where he dwells on his self-doubts until he gets another contracting job, this time in Alberta. He is working on a team that is operating a giant drill, a complicated machine, deep below the surface. The drill breaks down, and rather than wait for a tech who is qualified to fix the drill, Henry and a co-worker decide to try and fix it, and do, except that they are in the machine, and they had forgotten to turn the power off. As the drill begins to work again, it breaks the arms of the co-worker. Again, Henry is overcome by guilt and self-doubt. For all of his training, or perhaps because of it, Henry’s DIY sensibility not only gets him in trouble but gets others hurt or killed. So he returns to Newfoundland to once again find a place for himself.
By the end of the first section, Henry has discovered that he doesn’t belong in St. John’s (big city), Afghanistan, or Alberta. In the second section, circumstances lead him to the outport of Renews (small population, out of the way, no war, no heavy industry), an old-fashioned place on the edge of the modern world: a safe place where he can find himself, be with others without endangering them, and become the husband, father, good community citizen he has always imagined he could be. Henry puts the dangers of the larger world behind him, but Winter then throws all the dangers of outport Newfoundland at him to negotiate (family, property, ownership, feuds, the weather, the sea, the tides, old houses, boats, fish, whales, sex, generations, old timers, newcomers). While the threats of Renews are many, and the novel continues to feel like a roller coaster running off and on the tracks (Sorry, I couldn’t resist the metaphor again), the threats are not as off-putting, not as catastrophic, and Henry navigates them with much greater success, and although those dangers do not abate Henry’s DIY skills, along with the DIY skills of everyone else on the shore, seem equal to the dangers. Henry finds his place. An interesting happy ending, still fraught and full of tensions, but happy.
September 24, 2013
Wow. I’d not read Winter before but his writing is dazzling – it has a kind of elemental beauty and grace with almost every sentence containing an insight or truth that stops you in your tracks. Likely to be one of my favourite books of the year I should think.
March 30, 2016
Poor writing, boring story. I only read it because it was on the Canada Reads list. I can't believe it was on the list. I was happy to see it was the first to be eliminated.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 173 reviews