My mother tells us, her children, that when my younger brother was around six years old she was with him one time walking along a city sidewalk when my brother saw a nice toy being peddled by a street vendor. He must have wanted such a toy for a long time, as toys were a luxury in our poor household, that he calls her attention and says mother, that's a nice toy isn't it? My mother said yes, it is a nice toy. Then my brother adds, but we can't buy it because we don't have money? Yes, we can't, we don't have money, she says. Forty years after it happened, my mother still recalls it. It must have broken her heart that her son had to be fully conscious of want at such a young age. That brother of mine grew up a very frugal man, quite unlike my other brother, who was shielded from the enfeebling effects of our poverty that he grew up a spendthrift, buys books like there is no tomorrow and is as generous as the sun on a hot summer day. His grand birthday celebrations are almost always like historical events.
Anyway, this is a book by a Canadian author, Gabrielle Roy. She was born and educated in Manitoba where my only sister, who doesn't read anything but her patients' charts, is based now. What a waste. If we can exchange places, I most likely would check out where Gabrielle Roy had lived or studied in Manitoba, and maybe get an idea where she got the wonderful insights which helped her write this extraordinary novel.
Florentine, the protagonist, is a 19-year-old waitress in a small diner/store. She's skinny because she (the eldest) and her eight siblings have very poor nourishment. Her father, Azarius, is a taxi driver. He's in and out of jobs. Well-meaning and kind, he does not have much luck, however. He has had many grand schemes to earn money which all failed. He and his wife Rose-Anna are just in their early 40's. They live in the slums in Montreal (the story is set during the Great Depression, just before the second world war). Rose-Anna is again with a child, the 13th pregnancy of her young life. Three of her children had died during infancy.
There are a lot of novels about the poor and about being poor. But what makes this book different, I think, is the author's remarkable understanding of how the poor thinks and feels. She knows how it is to be a young woman in love, but poor, so that the object of her longing would be both attracted by her beauty and repulsed by her poverty; or how it is to be a mother, who love her children, but does not have enough to feed and clothe them all properly. Details which only those who are poor, or had been poor, would notice sear the pages of the book. There were moments when I felt like taking all of my money from my wallet, insert the same inside the book's pages and hope that this poor family can take the cash and spend them for their needs.
There are several scenes here that will strike you as so true, but I have a favorite because it reminds me of my young brother and the toy our mother couldn't buy for him.
The mother, Rose-Anna, decides to leave the house one day to look for a new house they can rent as they are about to be evicted from their present dwelling. As she was leaving, one of her small children, a 6-year-old boy named Daniel who is often weak and with a fever (unknown to them, he has leukemia) asks her several times to buy him a tin flute. He had long wanted one.
Rose-Anna walked all day but failed to find a house they can afford to rent from the meager budget they have which comes mostly from Florentine's wages and her husband's (if he has work). On her way home, pregnant, hungry and tired, Rose-Anna decides to drop by the diner/store where Florentine works. She asks only for a cup of coffee "to perk her up" a little, but Florentine knows her mother is hungry and gets her a chicken meal which costs only forty cents(on sale that day) and insists that she eats it. As Rose-Anna was eating all she could think of is how expensive the meal is, and with forty cents she can prepare something at home more plentiful and more filling. After eating the chicken meal, Florentine also serves her a piece of pie which Rose-Anna would not have eaten had Florentine not told her that the pie is already included in the chicken meal. Later, as Rose-Anna was about to leave, Florentine also gave her two dollars--the tips she had earned for the day. Then Florentine--
"saw her mother's piteous, beaten look, full of gratitude and admiration. She saw her mother rise painfully and leave, skirting the counters and stopping here and there to touch an object or feel a piece of material.
"Her mother! Rose-Anna seemed very old to her. She moved slowly and her tight coat made her stomach bulge out. With two extra dollars hidden deep in her bag, the bag held close to her side, she was less sure of herself than before. Pots and pans, bolts of material, all the things she had long denied herself the privilege of looking at, fascinated her. Countless yearnings swelled within her, but she went steadily on her way, the money that had given rise to them buried in her pocketbook. Certainly she was poorer now than when she had entered the store.
"As she watched this silent drama, all Florentine's joy was turned to bitterness. The rapture she had felt in being generous and unselfish gave way to a sense of aching frustration. It had been a total loss, completely useless. It was a drop of water in the desert of their lives.
"At the other end of the store, Rose-Anna had stopped at the toy counter, and picked up a little tin flute. As a salesgirl approached, however, she put it down hastily, and Florentine knew that Daniel's desire for the flute would never be any closer to realization than this. Her mother's good intention was quickly suppressed. Likewise between her desire to help Rose-Anna and the peace of mind her mother would probably never have, nothing would be left but the aching memory of a good intention. If she alone could escape from their narrow life, that would be a great achievement, but even for her it was very hard. She would have been happy to take her family with her and raise them also to a position of ease and comfort, but she knew that it was useless to think of it.
"She forced herself to smile at her mother, who seemed to be asking her advice: 'Should I buy the flute, the pretty little toy flute, or should I buy stockings, underwear, food? Which is more important? A flute like a ray of sunshine for a sick child, a happy flute to make sounds of joy, or food on the table? Tell me which is more important, Florentine?'
"Florentine brought herself to smile once more as Rose-Anna, deciding at length to leave the store, waved goodbye, but by that time she was ready to rip all her good intentions to shreds, like a useless rag."