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Mary Swann
‘One of the best novels I have read this year. It’s deft, funny, poignant, surprising and beautifully shaped.’ Margaret Atwood
Mary Swann, a latter-day Emily Dickinson, submitted a paper bag of poems to newspaper editor Frederic Cruzzi mere hours before her husband hacked her to pieces. How could someone who led such a dull, sheltered life produce these works of genius? Four very different people search for the elusive answer.
Mary Swann, a latter-day Emily Dickinson, submitted a paper bag of poems to newspaper editor Frederic Cruzzi mere hours before her husband hacked her to pieces. How could someone who led such a dull, sheltered life produce these works of genius? Four very different people search for the elusive answer.
320 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1987
164 people are currently reading
1751 people want to read
About the author
Carol Shields
73 books668 followersCarol Ann Shields was an American-born Canadian author. She is best known for her successful 1993 novel The Stone Diaries, which won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction as well as the Governor General's Award. Her novel Swann won the Best Novel Arthur Ellis Award in 1988.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 183 reviews
July 7, 2019
As someone who's read quite a bit of Shields, I've noticed in the past that she has an early nonfiction work called Susanna Moodie: Voice And Vision. I know nothing else of Moodie (except that she's also been an influence on Margaret Atwood) but when I started this, I had to wonder if any hoopla surrounding the recognition of Moodie in Canada informed this work. And in turn I also wondered if the writing of this led to Shields' The Stone Diaries a few years later. I would have to reread the latter to be sure, but I think it's safe to say Swann and The Stone Diaries are certainly her two most ambitious novels.
I'm not sure why this novel isn't more well known. Perhaps because it is theme-driven: characters and plot are secondary, though the fourth section is luminous in its depiction of a long marriage. Each section has its own style and point-of-view, the third narrated by an unnamed omniscient entity that sometimes uses the second-person as if the reader is perhaps being given a guided tour.
The back of my edition states that the novel won an award for "crime writing" and yet the perpetrator of the obvious crime -- the disappearance of Mary Swann's artifacts -- is easily guessed at by the time the first object goes missing, that crime being the least of what this novel is. Other, perhaps unprosecutable, 'crimes' fuel this novel, a layered challenge to our perceptions about art and in what it has to say about art as a commodity, how it is made and shaped, and who owns it.
Its humor is sly and not always complimentary to the literary world. While the last section was my least favorite, its ending is perfect.
I'm not sure why this novel isn't more well known. Perhaps because it is theme-driven: characters and plot are secondary, though the fourth section is luminous in its depiction of a long marriage. Each section has its own style and point-of-view, the third narrated by an unnamed omniscient entity that sometimes uses the second-person as if the reader is perhaps being given a guided tour.
The back of my edition states that the novel won an award for "crime writing" and yet the perpetrator of the obvious crime -- the disappearance of Mary Swann's artifacts -- is easily guessed at by the time the first object goes missing, that crime being the least of what this novel is. Other, perhaps unprosecutable, 'crimes' fuel this novel, a layered challenge to our perceptions about art and in what it has to say about art as a commodity, how it is made and shaped, and who owns it.
Its humor is sly and not always complimentary to the literary world. While the last section was my least favorite, its ending is perfect.
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July 28, 20197.5/10
I'd missed this in my first round of reading Carol Shields, years ago, and perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing. It still holds Shields's charm: her quick wittedness, her humour, her irreverence about all things academic -- but only to a point. The first 2/3 of the novel pull you forward quickly, and then you come to a grinding halt. She chose to conclude this book in TV-script style; in a playbook. It's horrendously painful to read. I don't know whether it's because I suffer PTSD from reliving all the symposiums I've attended, for indeed, Shields nails it as no one has ever done. All the pettiness, all the backbiting, all the one-upmanship, all the jealousies, all the grudges, all the resentments -- all appear here in larger-than-life exactness. But gosh, it's harrowing. Who wants to relive it in print, in the imagination, when one has lived it in life? Her charming satire thus far falls short of a good read and becomes just a boring essay on "How I Attended The MLAs And Survived."
I haven't much more to add, as I cherish Shields's work far too much otherwise.
Some nice, wry commentary on the academic life, from a few quotes.
"The longer he spent closeted with the Pound papers—and his book on Pound took the better part of five years (oh waste)—the more he desired to hold the man up to ridicule. Those long months sitting at his oak table in his study in south Winnipeg, crowded by books, crowded almost to the point of suffocation, he had felt himself being slowly crushed to death by Poundian horrors. And as the horrors accumulated he became convinced that lovers of Pound’s poetry should not be spared the truth about their poet. Far from buttering over Pound’s nasty little racial theories, Jimroy found himself going out of his way to expose them. This was easy enough; all that was required was that he pile massive incriminating quotations onto the page, worrying not a whit that they might be out of context. What was the point of context anyway? Wasn’t Pound, he said to himself, wasn’t the flatulent flabby Ezra Pound always and fatally out of context himself? Yes, oh yes! And poor Dorothy, did anyone ever spare a thought for Dorothy?"
"Didn’t these monied Stanford sharpies realize that literature was only a way for the helpless to cope. Get back to your tennis courts, he wanted to shout. Out into the sunshine. Live! Universities are nothing but humming myth factories. Dear God. How we love to systemize and classify what is rich and random in life. How our fingers itch to separate the tangled threads of theme and anti-theme, moral vision and moral blindness, God and godlessness, joy and despair, as though all creativity sat like a head of cabbage on a wooden chopping block, ready to be hacked apart, first the leaves, then the hot, white heart. Scholarship was bunk—if they only, only knew. It was just a matter of time before the theoreticians got to Mary Swann and tore her limb from limb in a grotesque parody of her bodily death."
"The charm of falsehood is not that it distorts reality, but that it creates reality afresh."
I'd missed this in my first round of reading Carol Shields, years ago, and perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing. It still holds Shields's charm: her quick wittedness, her humour, her irreverence about all things academic -- but only to a point. The first 2/3 of the novel pull you forward quickly, and then you come to a grinding halt. She chose to conclude this book in TV-script style; in a playbook. It's horrendously painful to read. I don't know whether it's because I suffer PTSD from reliving all the symposiums I've attended, for indeed, Shields nails it as no one has ever done. All the pettiness, all the backbiting, all the one-upmanship, all the jealousies, all the grudges, all the resentments -- all appear here in larger-than-life exactness. But gosh, it's harrowing. Who wants to relive it in print, in the imagination, when one has lived it in life? Her charming satire thus far falls short of a good read and becomes just a boring essay on "How I Attended The MLAs And Survived."
I haven't much more to add, as I cherish Shields's work far too much otherwise.
Some nice, wry commentary on the academic life, from a few quotes.
"The longer he spent closeted with the Pound papers—and his book on Pound took the better part of five years (oh waste)—the more he desired to hold the man up to ridicule. Those long months sitting at his oak table in his study in south Winnipeg, crowded by books, crowded almost to the point of suffocation, he had felt himself being slowly crushed to death by Poundian horrors. And as the horrors accumulated he became convinced that lovers of Pound’s poetry should not be spared the truth about their poet. Far from buttering over Pound’s nasty little racial theories, Jimroy found himself going out of his way to expose them. This was easy enough; all that was required was that he pile massive incriminating quotations onto the page, worrying not a whit that they might be out of context. What was the point of context anyway? Wasn’t Pound, he said to himself, wasn’t the flatulent flabby Ezra Pound always and fatally out of context himself? Yes, oh yes! And poor Dorothy, did anyone ever spare a thought for Dorothy?"
"Didn’t these monied Stanford sharpies realize that literature was only a way for the helpless to cope. Get back to your tennis courts, he wanted to shout. Out into the sunshine. Live! Universities are nothing but humming myth factories. Dear God. How we love to systemize and classify what is rich and random in life. How our fingers itch to separate the tangled threads of theme and anti-theme, moral vision and moral blindness, God and godlessness, joy and despair, as though all creativity sat like a head of cabbage on a wooden chopping block, ready to be hacked apart, first the leaves, then the hot, white heart. Scholarship was bunk—if they only, only knew. It was just a matter of time before the theoreticians got to Mary Swann and tore her limb from limb in a grotesque parody of her bodily death."
"The charm of falsehood is not that it distorts reality, but that it creates reality afresh."
December 24, 2025
I really enjoyed this. It's been a long time since I read any Carol Shields, so I'm not certain if this one reflects the style of her others; what I did find surprising in Mary Swann are the puzzles - enjoyable puzzles, and I started to consider that the four sections, which are dedicated to each of the four main characters are set up as mini-biographies. The sections gradually connect, but initially they seem to be quite separate and we ask ourselves, are they connected? The final section, which does indeed bring all the separate parts together pleased me immensely. It is presented, as a film, and relays to us in the present, the Symposium held in Toronto, on the poet, Mary Swann. All the four characters have been invited as they each had a specific connection and influence on Mary Swann's work.
I might start with the film section - this begins in quite a tedious way, in that we're given an overabundance of repetitive information - our four important characters arriving at the Harbourview Hotel. This is followed by a typical - and I can say this, because I've been to a few of these types of academic meetings; I think we can call it a very acrimonious interchange between the various professors. I was then ridiculously pleased by the development into a type of whodunit scenario, with the four protagonists sitting together, past midnight, in Sarah Maloney's hotel room, laboriously crossing off from a list of 67, the possible perpetrator. It's so well done, and best of all is the wonderful coming together and a dissolution of the antagonism, between Morton Jimroy and Sarah Maloney. Rose Hindmarsh is similarly pleased to see Jimroy behave like a normal human. And Frederic Cruzzi who is an old and wise man, has managed to keep himself out of the fray but there is this wonderful union between them all, when they sit together in a circle trying to remember one of Mary's poems. This final scene presents a truly glorious denouncement of the pettiness of academia, the vicious competitiveness and egoism that takes place, not simply in the academic environment, but which I think is true of most work places. In Shield's world, if only temporarily, people appreciate each other, work together and respect and value each other - and to me that was wonderful.
The first four sections are dedicated, each one to our four characters; and what is notable about the narration is something I've noticed in a couple of books, I've read recently -in novels by Alice Thomas Ellis, and Jessie Kesson - the refusal to explain the characters. And so for example, in Sarah Maloney's section, we know she is in love with a young man called Brownie. He is an antiquarian book dealer, and then quite suddenly - literally, as we turn the page, we hear that Sarah is marrying someone else, a friend. He's a juggler called Stephen. What of course is apparent to the reader is that Brownie's sudden distance and withdrawal from the relationship occurs at the same time, as Sarah notices that Mary Swann's notebook, has disappeared. I spotted this coincidence and I think any reader would, but I think what we are to understand is Sarah's blindness in the matter. Although she is an astute and clever young woman, a success in her career-life, a published PhD behind her, and currently a professor at a university in Chicago, but she cannot see the obvious, in her personal life.
There is a plot working its way through all five sections of this book, but I quite often found myself drawn instead to all the small and seemingly trivial details of these people's lives. For me the interesting component in Sarah's life, was that she is so clearly in love with Brownie and yet that is dropped; without explanation. I liked this withholding of information, because I think it is true to how we experience life. So often things are not apparent to us, and this is what I mean about the comparison between Shields, Alice Thomas Ellis and Jessie Kesson. We're not given the framing, or the omniscient narration, that so many novels supply.
This continues for Morton Jimroy's section. Again, we are allowed to observe his behaviour and most importantly his actions and interactions with others; these alone give us a very strong indicator of his character, which is deeply unpleasant. We're also given access to his internal musings, in particular about his wife Audrey, who has left him. And again it is quite easy to see the 'flaw', which is not visible to Jimroy.
Morton Jimroy is a professor from Manitoba, but he is taking a sabbatical in California, deliberately chosen because it is close to Frances Swann, the only daughter of Mary. Jimroy is a famous biographer. He's written a biography of Ezra Pound, and another on John Starman, snd now he is working on a biography of Mary Swann. Again, I found the relationship aspect of Jimroy's life leading me down interesting rabbit holes. It is this unravelling of pointers to Jimroy's past and his present lonely existence that allows the reader to have a sense of compassion for him, which we are utterly unwilling to give him in the light of his actions and behaviours.
Then we move onto Rose Hindmarsh who has lived all her life in the small township of Nadeau, Ontario. It's the town closest to where Mary Swann lived with her husband on their poor farm. Rose meets Mary at regular intervals as she is the town's librarian. This chapter in the book is particularly sad, as we see the life of a lonely person. Rose in her early fifties has had no personal relationships. Towards the end of the chapter Rose, suffers from ill-health, but there is an upbeat ending, as we note a developing interest from a long term acquaintance in the form of Homer Hart.
The final section then is on Frederic Cruzzi, and his wife Hilde. They also hold an important connection with Mary Swann. I really enjoyed this section, and I think that will be the case with most readers. I enjoyed all the details of Frederic's background. He and Hilde met in their home-town of Grenoble, France, before emigrating to the UK. Frederic has taken a job with the Manchester Guardian. I enjoyed this reference immensely as the Manchester Guardian, a real paper, was once and perhaps still is a very widely respected and socialist newspaper.
Cruzzi and his wife, then emigrate to Canada, with the hope of maintaining their original language, only to find that in Kingston, Ontario, it is English that is spoken. Cruzzi takes up the position of editor of the Kingston Banner, and there is a great deal of amusement in his background story.
And then we are brought to the final section - the screenplay of the Symposium on Mary Swann, in Toronto. Shield's skill at bringing out the bitter and competitive interaction between Morton Jimroy and Sarah Maloney is outstanding, and is reinforced by all the other competitive fighting and egotistical behaviour of the other scholars, who are initially referred to as 'Woman with Turban', 'Crinkled Forehead', Blue-spotted Tie' etc, which adds its own dimension of hilarity to the proceedings. The novel ends with the esteemed academics and our four characters having to reconstruct one of Mary Swann's poems on 'Lost things', as they realise that all of them have 'lost' their copies of Mary Swann's poems.
It's an enjoyable mock-up of the pitfalls that historians, biographers and academics try to control or avoid in their work and which are simply part of life. Lives which are messy, distinctly not linear, distinctly without order or purpose and Shields in post-modernist style has written a book which both demonstrates and explores these aspects of human existence. It is part of human nature, this constant desire to make sense, which is all that a novel is. Shields both attempts to order her story and simultaneously points out that order does not exist. An example of this that I particularly enjoyed is that Frederic Cruzzi at the age of eighty has fallen in love with a widower, Pauline, whom he has known for a long time. And I liked how he and Sarah exchange their 'secrets' over lunch as they also discuss the disappearance of their copies of Swann's Songs.
One more thought: as I read, I recognised Shields' tendency, to list things, and to supply an overabundance of detail, which I felt bogged the plot down. I decided, however, that this over manifestation of detail and was quite deliberate by the author. I avoid biographies, autobiographies, memoirs in general. I do not like them - having tried several I've realised to leave well alone the private details of authors' lives. And this apparently is our narrator's perspective also. Shields is making fun of this, what we consider, she and I, the redundant need to document and analyse to the nth degree.
If I can refer back to my opening paragraph, I pointed out how each section appears to be a mini-biography and Shields has adopted the method and style of the biographer. As I reached the end I understood that this is a deliberate strategy, but it's also quite a risky one. I didn't like Sarah Maloney and her story, which is how the book begins; it would have been all too easy to put it down. Light breaks through of course in Rose Hindmarsh's section; we feel sympathy for her, although she also has several unattractive character traits.
So, I'll end with this - a good writer is one who is prepared to take risks, and essentially you the reader have to decide to trust him/her, or not. This reward of trust is not guaranteed, so like the writer, you the reader also take an element of risk, in our decision to continue, to put in the time and commitment. It's a long book, 433 pages in my edition, although that includes an introduction, a very admirable intro by Margaret Atwood.
I'll finish with one of the Lists - it's from Morton Jimroy's notes and reveals him to be the most pompous, old bore that ever existed:
During the past two years Jimroy had conducted extensive interviews with the following people:
Willard Lang, professor and critic (Toronto). Jimroy detests Lang, who has a benighted concept of ART NAIF and who has so far refused to publish the four poems, love poems he claims he found under Mary Swann's kitchen linoleum. A lumpish man. A man whose thought waves come in unindented paragraphs. And vain. Would like to be thought mecurial. But never will.
Frederic Cruzzi, retired editor of the Kingston Banner (small-town paper) and the Peregrine Press. Pompous old boy, fond of the sound of his own voice. Fund of wisdom etc.
George Hanna, nephew of Elizabeth Hanna, neighbour of Mary Swann (Nadeau). Cretin.
Rose Helen Hindmarsh, librarian (Nadeau). Lachrymose woman, tears in her eyes saying goodbye. Helpful, of course, more helpful than anyone else, but three days of that whinnying voice. An un-pretty woman. Bent on imparting to him feeble meditations and moony recollections. Small mouth gobbling air. Greedy. No, too harsh. Needy. Awful in a woman, being needy.
The Rev. W. A. Polson, retired (Nadeau). Nothing came of that.
Homer Hart, school principal, retired (Nadeau). Confused. Unreliable.
Grace Saltman, retired teacher (Belleville, now of Victoria, British Columbia). Bulbous nose.
Richard Eckhart, town clerk (Belleville). Memory intractable.
Susan Hansen Kurtz, niece of Mary Swann (Belleville). Seemed to be retarded. Or senile.
Rupert 'Torchy' Torchinski, baker, retired (Belleville). Hopeless.
Frances Moore Swann, daughter of the poet (Palo Heights, California).
So, my friends, do not be put off. Read this and enjoy yourselves; you will be immeasurably rewarded for your efforts.
I might start with the film section - this begins in quite a tedious way, in that we're given an overabundance of repetitive information - our four important characters arriving at the Harbourview Hotel. This is followed by a typical - and I can say this, because I've been to a few of these types of academic meetings; I think we can call it a very acrimonious interchange between the various professors. I was then ridiculously pleased by the development into a type of whodunit scenario, with the four protagonists sitting together, past midnight, in Sarah Maloney's hotel room, laboriously crossing off from a list of 67, the possible perpetrator. It's so well done, and best of all is the wonderful coming together and a dissolution of the antagonism, between Morton Jimroy and Sarah Maloney. Rose Hindmarsh is similarly pleased to see Jimroy behave like a normal human. And Frederic Cruzzi who is an old and wise man, has managed to keep himself out of the fray but there is this wonderful union between them all, when they sit together in a circle trying to remember one of Mary's poems. This final scene presents a truly glorious denouncement of the pettiness of academia, the vicious competitiveness and egoism that takes place, not simply in the academic environment, but which I think is true of most work places. In Shield's world, if only temporarily, people appreciate each other, work together and respect and value each other - and to me that was wonderful.
The first four sections are dedicated, each one to our four characters; and what is notable about the narration is something I've noticed in a couple of books, I've read recently -in novels by Alice Thomas Ellis, and Jessie Kesson - the refusal to explain the characters. And so for example, in Sarah Maloney's section, we know she is in love with a young man called Brownie. He is an antiquarian book dealer, and then quite suddenly - literally, as we turn the page, we hear that Sarah is marrying someone else, a friend. He's a juggler called Stephen. What of course is apparent to the reader is that Brownie's sudden distance and withdrawal from the relationship occurs at the same time, as Sarah notices that Mary Swann's notebook, has disappeared. I spotted this coincidence and I think any reader would, but I think what we are to understand is Sarah's blindness in the matter. Although she is an astute and clever young woman, a success in her career-life, a published PhD behind her, and currently a professor at a university in Chicago, but she cannot see the obvious, in her personal life.
There is a plot working its way through all five sections of this book, but I quite often found myself drawn instead to all the small and seemingly trivial details of these people's lives. For me the interesting component in Sarah's life, was that she is so clearly in love with Brownie and yet that is dropped; without explanation. I liked this withholding of information, because I think it is true to how we experience life. So often things are not apparent to us, and this is what I mean about the comparison between Shields, Alice Thomas Ellis and Jessie Kesson. We're not given the framing, or the omniscient narration, that so many novels supply.
This continues for Morton Jimroy's section. Again, we are allowed to observe his behaviour and most importantly his actions and interactions with others; these alone give us a very strong indicator of his character, which is deeply unpleasant. We're also given access to his internal musings, in particular about his wife Audrey, who has left him. And again it is quite easy to see the 'flaw', which is not visible to Jimroy.
Morton Jimroy is a professor from Manitoba, but he is taking a sabbatical in California, deliberately chosen because it is close to Frances Swann, the only daughter of Mary. Jimroy is a famous biographer. He's written a biography of Ezra Pound, and another on John Starman, snd now he is working on a biography of Mary Swann. Again, I found the relationship aspect of Jimroy's life leading me down interesting rabbit holes. It is this unravelling of pointers to Jimroy's past and his present lonely existence that allows the reader to have a sense of compassion for him, which we are utterly unwilling to give him in the light of his actions and behaviours.
Then we move onto Rose Hindmarsh who has lived all her life in the small township of Nadeau, Ontario. It's the town closest to where Mary Swann lived with her husband on their poor farm. Rose meets Mary at regular intervals as she is the town's librarian. This chapter in the book is particularly sad, as we see the life of a lonely person. Rose in her early fifties has had no personal relationships. Towards the end of the chapter Rose, suffers from ill-health, but there is an upbeat ending, as we note a developing interest from a long term acquaintance in the form of Homer Hart.
The final section then is on Frederic Cruzzi, and his wife Hilde. They also hold an important connection with Mary Swann. I really enjoyed this section, and I think that will be the case with most readers. I enjoyed all the details of Frederic's background. He and Hilde met in their home-town of Grenoble, France, before emigrating to the UK. Frederic has taken a job with the Manchester Guardian. I enjoyed this reference immensely as the Manchester Guardian, a real paper, was once and perhaps still is a very widely respected and socialist newspaper.
Cruzzi and his wife, then emigrate to Canada, with the hope of maintaining their original language, only to find that in Kingston, Ontario, it is English that is spoken. Cruzzi takes up the position of editor of the Kingston Banner, and there is a great deal of amusement in his background story.
And then we are brought to the final section - the screenplay of the Symposium on Mary Swann, in Toronto. Shield's skill at bringing out the bitter and competitive interaction between Morton Jimroy and Sarah Maloney is outstanding, and is reinforced by all the other competitive fighting and egotistical behaviour of the other scholars, who are initially referred to as 'Woman with Turban', 'Crinkled Forehead', Blue-spotted Tie' etc, which adds its own dimension of hilarity to the proceedings. The novel ends with the esteemed academics and our four characters having to reconstruct one of Mary Swann's poems on 'Lost things', as they realise that all of them have 'lost' their copies of Mary Swann's poems.
It's an enjoyable mock-up of the pitfalls that historians, biographers and academics try to control or avoid in their work and which are simply part of life. Lives which are messy, distinctly not linear, distinctly without order or purpose and Shields in post-modernist style has written a book which both demonstrates and explores these aspects of human existence. It is part of human nature, this constant desire to make sense, which is all that a novel is. Shields both attempts to order her story and simultaneously points out that order does not exist. An example of this that I particularly enjoyed is that Frederic Cruzzi at the age of eighty has fallen in love with a widower, Pauline, whom he has known for a long time. And I liked how he and Sarah exchange their 'secrets' over lunch as they also discuss the disappearance of their copies of Swann's Songs.
One more thought: as I read, I recognised Shields' tendency, to list things, and to supply an overabundance of detail, which I felt bogged the plot down. I decided, however, that this over manifestation of detail and was quite deliberate by the author. I avoid biographies, autobiographies, memoirs in general. I do not like them - having tried several I've realised to leave well alone the private details of authors' lives. And this apparently is our narrator's perspective also. Shields is making fun of this, what we consider, she and I, the redundant need to document and analyse to the nth degree.
If I can refer back to my opening paragraph, I pointed out how each section appears to be a mini-biography and Shields has adopted the method and style of the biographer. As I reached the end I understood that this is a deliberate strategy, but it's also quite a risky one. I didn't like Sarah Maloney and her story, which is how the book begins; it would have been all too easy to put it down. Light breaks through of course in Rose Hindmarsh's section; we feel sympathy for her, although she also has several unattractive character traits.
So, I'll end with this - a good writer is one who is prepared to take risks, and essentially you the reader have to decide to trust him/her, or not. This reward of trust is not guaranteed, so like the writer, you the reader also take an element of risk, in our decision to continue, to put in the time and commitment. It's a long book, 433 pages in my edition, although that includes an introduction, a very admirable intro by Margaret Atwood.
I'll finish with one of the Lists - it's from Morton Jimroy's notes and reveals him to be the most pompous, old bore that ever existed:
During the past two years Jimroy had conducted extensive interviews with the following people:
Willard Lang, professor and critic (Toronto). Jimroy detests Lang, who has a benighted concept of ART NAIF and who has so far refused to publish the four poems, love poems he claims he found under Mary Swann's kitchen linoleum. A lumpish man. A man whose thought waves come in unindented paragraphs. And vain. Would like to be thought mecurial. But never will.
Frederic Cruzzi, retired editor of the Kingston Banner (small-town paper) and the Peregrine Press. Pompous old boy, fond of the sound of his own voice. Fund of wisdom etc.
George Hanna, nephew of Elizabeth Hanna, neighbour of Mary Swann (Nadeau). Cretin.
Rose Helen Hindmarsh, librarian (Nadeau). Lachrymose woman, tears in her eyes saying goodbye. Helpful, of course, more helpful than anyone else, but three days of that whinnying voice. An un-pretty woman. Bent on imparting to him feeble meditations and moony recollections. Small mouth gobbling air. Greedy. No, too harsh. Needy. Awful in a woman, being needy.
The Rev. W. A. Polson, retired (Nadeau). Nothing came of that.
Homer Hart, school principal, retired (Nadeau). Confused. Unreliable.
Grace Saltman, retired teacher (Belleville, now of Victoria, British Columbia). Bulbous nose.
Richard Eckhart, town clerk (Belleville). Memory intractable.
Susan Hansen Kurtz, niece of Mary Swann (Belleville). Seemed to be retarded. Or senile.
Rupert 'Torchy' Torchinski, baker, retired (Belleville). Hopeless.
Frances Moore Swann, daughter of the poet (Palo Heights, California).
So, my friends, do not be put off. Read this and enjoy yourselves; you will be immeasurably rewarded for your efforts.
February 9, 2024
The novel is broken into five parts. The first four parts are from the point of view of the four main characters. The first is that of Sarah Maloney, feminist and professor of literature. The second is of Morton Jimroy, author of two biographies and working on another. Then there is Rose Hindmarch, librarian of Nadeau, Ontario. Finally there is Frederic Cruzzi, publisher of the Peregrine Press.
Each of these has an interest in Mary Swann and her book of poetry, Swann's Songs. Maloney who discovered a copy while staying at a cabin on the lake, Jimroy who is writing a Swann biograhy, Hindmarch who saw and chatted with Mary Swann when she came to the library, and Cruzzi, Swann's publisher. Maloney and Jimroy especially are nigh well insufferable. I think, but am not sure, that author Carol Shields was poking fun at academics. At least I hope that was her purpose. I was almost, but not quite, amused in a few places.
She may also have been poking fun at poetry. The included examples are pretty awful. I am no fan of poetry so maybe my opinion of these should be taken with a grain of salt.
This is a character driven novel and I almost always love character driven novels. In the case of the first four sections of this novel, none of these characters interact with each other, although they know *of* each other. Three hundred pages of background and 100 pages of actual story. Some have complained of this last 100 pages which is formated as a screenplay. I liked this last part better than the rest.
I'll let this slide up into my 3-star group, but it's probably in the bottom 10% of that group.
Each of these has an interest in Mary Swann and her book of poetry, Swann's Songs. Maloney who discovered a copy while staying at a cabin on the lake, Jimroy who is writing a Swann biograhy, Hindmarch who saw and chatted with Mary Swann when she came to the library, and Cruzzi, Swann's publisher. Maloney and Jimroy especially are nigh well insufferable. I think, but am not sure, that author Carol Shields was poking fun at academics. At least I hope that was her purpose. I was almost, but not quite, amused in a few places.
She may also have been poking fun at poetry. The included examples are pretty awful. I am no fan of poetry so maybe my opinion of these should be taken with a grain of salt.
This is a character driven novel and I almost always love character driven novels. In the case of the first four sections of this novel, none of these characters interact with each other, although they know *of* each other. Three hundred pages of background and 100 pages of actual story. Some have complained of this last 100 pages which is formated as a screenplay. I liked this last part better than the rest.
I'll let this slide up into my 3-star group, but it's probably in the bottom 10% of that group.
July 12, 2017
This book has everything and I think Carol Shields had a great time writing it. I think she put in everything we've all been told in writing classes not to do like changing POV, in the four stories each one about a different person and their relationship with Mary Swann the poet, there is a different POV for each one.
There is a mystery, burgleries, a murder, satire of college professors and what pompous egomaniacs they are and as if that weren't enough a screen play is thrown in at the end when the four main characters come together. A wonderful read, how I wish Carol Shields were still around
There is a mystery, burgleries, a murder, satire of college professors and what pompous egomaniacs they are and as if that weren't enough a screen play is thrown in at the end when the four main characters come together. A wonderful read, how I wish Carol Shields were still around
January 6, 2013
What happens when an unknown, uneducated farm woman (Mary Swann) writes amazing poetry? Scholars start the endless pursuit of uncovering her life, her inspirations, and her influences, because, you know, a woman with a simple life like hers couldn’t have possibly written like that! Swann is basically a novel about the ridiculousness of some academics. The most entertaining part of the book is the characters’ attempts to discover the so-called real Mary Swann. But, their attempts do not really reveal any truth to who Mary Swann was; they just make stuff up. For instance, Swann’s poetry may not even be accurate because the original manuscripts were ruined by fish guts, and the publishers simply filled in the missing words with what they thought had been there! Also, Jimroy believes that Swann’s poetry reveals that she had to have been influenced by Emily Dickinson, but in actuality, it is almost certain she was most influenced by nursery rhymes. So, we never actually learn anything about Mary Swann since everything about her is basically made up because the academics need self-assurance about their own abilities and education. Hey, if a woman like Mary Swann can write great poems, why can’t people with impressive educations?
Another interesting aspect of the novel is Shields’ use of different forms of writing. This novel contains first person narrative, third person narrative, poetry, and film script, and each of these works effectively to move the story along. These different styles work because each one lets you get to know the characters intimately, and it is this closeness with the characters that really pushes the plot. Out of the various styles, I would have to say that I was a little disappointed with the film script at the end. A third person narrative would have done just as good a job. I found it a little bit tedious to read through the camera, music, and set notes, but that may just be my opinion (for some reason, I have never been a fan of reading scripts). Despite this, I value Shields’ effort to change styles to keep it interesting, and the reader guessing.
Speaking of guessing, Swann definitely did have me guessing about who was stealing all the various Swann items. Although Swann probably wouldn’t be classified as a mystery, it still has the mystery element that readers can appreciate. The ending left me with a few questions about who might have been an accomplice to the robber, and the robber’s motives (for example, is he or she stealing to get back at a certain someone?). All-in-all though, I am satisfied with the fact that the robber was revealed, as I was worried that it would remain a mystery and bother me forever!
Overall, Swann will definitely have you questioning the accuracy of history. Is history really just written by pretentious scholars who are desperately trying to fill in the blanks in order to prove their worth? You will start thinking about the relevance of history, but, as disheartening as that may seem, the ever-changing form, the closeness the reader feels to the characters, the mini mystery, and the satirical outlook on academics all come together to create a great book that will not disappoint. Lastly, the character of Mary Swann may make you feel a little more proud of your potentially not-so-impressive education!
Another interesting aspect of the novel is Shields’ use of different forms of writing. This novel contains first person narrative, third person narrative, poetry, and film script, and each of these works effectively to move the story along. These different styles work because each one lets you get to know the characters intimately, and it is this closeness with the characters that really pushes the plot. Out of the various styles, I would have to say that I was a little disappointed with the film script at the end. A third person narrative would have done just as good a job. I found it a little bit tedious to read through the camera, music, and set notes, but that may just be my opinion (for some reason, I have never been a fan of reading scripts). Despite this, I value Shields’ effort to change styles to keep it interesting, and the reader guessing.
Speaking of guessing, Swann definitely did have me guessing about who was stealing all the various Swann items. Although Swann probably wouldn’t be classified as a mystery, it still has the mystery element that readers can appreciate. The ending left me with a few questions about who might have been an accomplice to the robber, and the robber’s motives (for example, is he or she stealing to get back at a certain someone?). All-in-all though, I am satisfied with the fact that the robber was revealed, as I was worried that it would remain a mystery and bother me forever!
Overall, Swann will definitely have you questioning the accuracy of history. Is history really just written by pretentious scholars who are desperately trying to fill in the blanks in order to prove their worth? You will start thinking about the relevance of history, but, as disheartening as that may seem, the ever-changing form, the closeness the reader feels to the characters, the mini mystery, and the satirical outlook on academics all come together to create a great book that will not disappoint. Lastly, the character of Mary Swann may make you feel a little more proud of your potentially not-so-impressive education!
July 11, 2019
Years ago, I read Carol Shields' Unless. I still remember the way the book moved me. I have recently discovered her 1987 novel Swann, and I honestly don't understand why this book is not more well-known. It took me three days to read this riveting novel. I think any literature student who is keen on dissecting every line of a poem, trying to extricate – all too often forcefully – meaning out of every comma, dash, allusion, or trying to impose metaphor where there is only the object itself, should read this book.
I am sometimes contacted by a literature student asking me "what do you think this poem is about?" or "what did the poet mean by this? What is s/he referring to?" In my response, I don't give answers. I try to gently nudge the reader towards a different kind of reading. What does the poem mean to you? How does it make you feel? Try not to over-analyze.
And this is what Swann is about. It is about Mary Swann, a poetess who has been forgotten until a scholar discovered her years following her death. The novel is written in five sections, each one from a different character's perspective: the scholar who initially 'discovered' Swann, a biographer trying to piece Swann's life together, Swann's publisher, and Rose, the librarian of the small rural Canadian town of Nadeau where Mary Swann lived on a farm. We get at each character's motives and interests in Mary Swann, but more importantly, we get at how each of them treats and understands the texts of Mary Swann. The last part was an especially pleasant surprise, as it is written in the form of a film script. I had fun reading this form, as I have to admit that I've never read a film script, so it was a fresh and new reading experience for me.
It's imagination versus reality. Mary Swann lived an ordinary life. She was a farmer's wife, and her life was limited in every aspect. She had no access to great literature. She did not travel. She had no friends. Scholars and biographers, in their analysis, trying to identify Mary Swann's influences, find "the fact that art could be created in such a void was, for some reason, deeply disturbing." They feel the need to trace her poetry to some movement, something larger. Rose, the librarian of the small rural town, reads the poems differently, connecting to the text on a different level. She recognizes the ordinariness of Swann's life, and her attempt at representing that in her poetry. The poems are what they are. They are about the ordinary life of a farmer's wife: loneliness, nature, work in the kitchen. It is a virgin reading of the text, untainted by scholarly analysis. “The highest work, the most original work, comes, I believe, out of an innocent, ignorant groping in the dark.” And that was the essence of Mary Swann's work.
Of course, there are other themes in the book, such as scholarly greed, and trading in rare books.
I think I will now move to Carol Shields' The Stone Diaries, which has been in my library for over ten years now, patiently waiting for the right moment.
I am sometimes contacted by a literature student asking me "what do you think this poem is about?" or "what did the poet mean by this? What is s/he referring to?" In my response, I don't give answers. I try to gently nudge the reader towards a different kind of reading. What does the poem mean to you? How does it make you feel? Try not to over-analyze.
And this is what Swann is about. It is about Mary Swann, a poetess who has been forgotten until a scholar discovered her years following her death. The novel is written in five sections, each one from a different character's perspective: the scholar who initially 'discovered' Swann, a biographer trying to piece Swann's life together, Swann's publisher, and Rose, the librarian of the small rural Canadian town of Nadeau where Mary Swann lived on a farm. We get at each character's motives and interests in Mary Swann, but more importantly, we get at how each of them treats and understands the texts of Mary Swann. The last part was an especially pleasant surprise, as it is written in the form of a film script. I had fun reading this form, as I have to admit that I've never read a film script, so it was a fresh and new reading experience for me.
It's imagination versus reality. Mary Swann lived an ordinary life. She was a farmer's wife, and her life was limited in every aspect. She had no access to great literature. She did not travel. She had no friends. Scholars and biographers, in their analysis, trying to identify Mary Swann's influences, find "the fact that art could be created in such a void was, for some reason, deeply disturbing." They feel the need to trace her poetry to some movement, something larger. Rose, the librarian of the small rural town, reads the poems differently, connecting to the text on a different level. She recognizes the ordinariness of Swann's life, and her attempt at representing that in her poetry. The poems are what they are. They are about the ordinary life of a farmer's wife: loneliness, nature, work in the kitchen. It is a virgin reading of the text, untainted by scholarly analysis. “The highest work, the most original work, comes, I believe, out of an innocent, ignorant groping in the dark.” And that was the essence of Mary Swann's work.
Of course, there are other themes in the book, such as scholarly greed, and trading in rare books.
I think I will now move to Carol Shields' The Stone Diaries, which has been in my library for over ten years now, patiently waiting for the right moment.
February 4, 2013
Am I being petty? I don't know...
But when you consider what Carol Shields was capable of...
The Stone Diaries was a masterpiece. One of my very favorites. This one never quite came together as it should have done. There is a glimmer of something here. I like the idea of the novel. A kind of sparse poeticism would have served the premise, beautifully. Shields, however, opted to describe every mundane moment in excruciating detail: nouns piled upon nouns.
Why do authors do this? Are they paid by the word? Contemporary verbosity is even worse than Victorian verbosity, because at least the Victorians weren't just listing things.
Oh, did you want to hear more about the murder mystery? I thought you wanted to know about every last item in my grocery cart. EVERY. LAST. ONE.
And, as much as I did love the poems, I was very aware of the fact that Shields' had written them, herself, and had then created characters to endlessly praise them! --It's weird, am I right? It's a little weird.
Oh well.
Sorry, Carol!
But when you consider what Carol Shields was capable of...
The Stone Diaries was a masterpiece. One of my very favorites. This one never quite came together as it should have done. There is a glimmer of something here. I like the idea of the novel. A kind of sparse poeticism would have served the premise, beautifully. Shields, however, opted to describe every mundane moment in excruciating detail: nouns piled upon nouns.
Why do authors do this? Are they paid by the word? Contemporary verbosity is even worse than Victorian verbosity, because at least the Victorians weren't just listing things.
Oh, did you want to hear more about the murder mystery? I thought you wanted to know about every last item in my grocery cart. EVERY. LAST. ONE.
And, as much as I did love the poems, I was very aware of the fact that Shields' had written them, herself, and had then created characters to endlessly praise them! --It's weird, am I right? It's a little weird.
Oh well.
Sorry, Carol!
March 29, 2014
I like Carol Shields. I like the characters she creates. I enjoy the positions in which she puts said characters. I like her use of narrative blended with letter writing, journals and movie script. The story of Mary Swann as it comes out through 4 main Swann-ites is engaging. The researchers of Mary Swann are mostly likeable and each has his or her own flaws. I especially liked the character of Rose. I found there to be many layers to this story and can imagine discussing it on a variety of fronts.
Want to read
May 10, 2024Kāpēc tikai divas kārnas zvaigznītes? Tāpēc, ka romāns tiešām "bija OK". Ne vairāk. Šis nu reiz ir tas gadījums, kad tekstā laiku pa laikam iezibas patiesa ğēnija dzirksts... lai tūlīt atkal nodzistu. Žēl. Jo potenciāls bija milzīgs
May 30, 2015
My first Carol Shields. Is she always this good? This book can remind you of the power of literature to surprise and delight.
July 3, 2010
Swann (sometimes titled Swann: A Mystery) is about farmwife Mary Swann and how she is "discovered" and turned into a minor poet worthy of academic analysis. Despite the sometimes-subtitle, Swann is more wry and cutting than mysterious. (There is a mystery, but it's a rather transparent one.) Although it's a novel, it's really a critique of the literary and academic publishing worlds. The book is also kind of experimental—each section is told in a different way. The first section is most novelistic; the final section is written like it's a screenplay. I think the execution may turn people off, but I think the choices Shields made were very deliberate and it's interesting to consider why she made them.
April 16, 2023
Fictitious account of some academics and others who are obsessed with a poet who came from humble origins and was murdered. There are various levels of fabrication in her story and the ending was a bit disappointing and hard to follow (though not the surprise I think it was meant to be)
March 13, 2013
Originally published on my blog here in March 2010.
Mary Swann was originally published simply titled Swann, and this UK edition clearly suffers from a degree of bizarre schizophrenia in this respect: Mary Swann on the front cover, Swann in the page headers.
Carol Shields' fifth novel continues to look at the concerns which informed much of her writing, principally the life stories of the kind of ordinary women who would often be dismissed as unimportant. But here Mary Swann is not herself a character in the novel; it is entirely about the way that other people think of her. For Mary Swann was a farmer's wife in deepest rural Ontario, who appeared perfectly ordinary in herself. She was married to a brutish husband who barely permitted her the only intellectual pleasure she had, access to the small collection at the nearest library, and who eventually murdered her. Yet she managed to write poems, on scraps of paper, good enough to be published. And, after she was killed (the most dramatic event in her life), one of the books of her poetry was picked up and read by an academic, who launches Mary's career in the world of English literature.
The novel is about the months preceding the first academic symposium on Mary Swann. The first four sections are written from the points of view of four people important to the study of her work: her discoverer, her (frustrated) biographer, her closest friend, and the man who published the poems in the first place. The final section abandons the standard narrative form, and purports to be the script of a film set at the symposium. In a book which is about how literary reputations are constructed, the introduction to the script explicitly makes the ironic point that all of these people, including Mary herself, are fictional: a deliberate ironic pin bursting the bubble of the reader's suspension of disbelief.
In a way, this has been clear all along. Mary Swann is really too good to be true, if the reader takes a minute to think about it. She embodies everything that the feminist academic community is searching for: a good poet, able to produce her work despite being downtrodden by the patriarchal system and her specific circumstances, a victim to the brutality of men. She wrote without the elitist requirement of a room of her own: no private study in a house in Bloomsbury for her. Mary fits the role too well for her to be believable. But it is clear that part of Shields' intention in Mary Swannn is to poke fun at the academic world, and to examine the way that the reputations, personalities, and even works and lives of the creators of literature are manipulated by those who claim to study them objectively. This means, incidentally, that there is considerable humour here, perhaps more direct than in any of Shields' other novels.
One very positive aspect of Mary Swann is the high quality of the poetry that Shields has written for her, encapsulating the descriptions given to it by the other characters in the novel. It is all too easy to describe a fictional character's literary work as outstanding, but to be unable to deliver quoted examples which live up to this standard. Not only must the quality be good, but the excerpts should also not be in the author's usual style, so that they should be distinct from the rest of the narrative. Shields gives the impression that she has managed to do all of this with ease, making the poetry a pleasure to read.
Carol Shields is also a superb prose stylist in her own right, as can be seen from any of her novels or short stories. Perhaps more so in the short stories, even, because they are often light on plot and concentrate on characterisation. However, here, the final film script section is less polished, probably because of the choice of form. Ending with the poorest part of the novel proves anticlimactic, even though it contains the climax of the plot. But even so, I enjoyed Mary Swann immensely.
Mary Swann was originally published simply titled Swann, and this UK edition clearly suffers from a degree of bizarre schizophrenia in this respect: Mary Swann on the front cover, Swann in the page headers.
Carol Shields' fifth novel continues to look at the concerns which informed much of her writing, principally the life stories of the kind of ordinary women who would often be dismissed as unimportant. But here Mary Swann is not herself a character in the novel; it is entirely about the way that other people think of her. For Mary Swann was a farmer's wife in deepest rural Ontario, who appeared perfectly ordinary in herself. She was married to a brutish husband who barely permitted her the only intellectual pleasure she had, access to the small collection at the nearest library, and who eventually murdered her. Yet she managed to write poems, on scraps of paper, good enough to be published. And, after she was killed (the most dramatic event in her life), one of the books of her poetry was picked up and read by an academic, who launches Mary's career in the world of English literature.
The novel is about the months preceding the first academic symposium on Mary Swann. The first four sections are written from the points of view of four people important to the study of her work: her discoverer, her (frustrated) biographer, her closest friend, and the man who published the poems in the first place. The final section abandons the standard narrative form, and purports to be the script of a film set at the symposium. In a book which is about how literary reputations are constructed, the introduction to the script explicitly makes the ironic point that all of these people, including Mary herself, are fictional: a deliberate ironic pin bursting the bubble of the reader's suspension of disbelief.
In a way, this has been clear all along. Mary Swann is really too good to be true, if the reader takes a minute to think about it. She embodies everything that the feminist academic community is searching for: a good poet, able to produce her work despite being downtrodden by the patriarchal system and her specific circumstances, a victim to the brutality of men. She wrote without the elitist requirement of a room of her own: no private study in a house in Bloomsbury for her. Mary fits the role too well for her to be believable. But it is clear that part of Shields' intention in Mary Swannn is to poke fun at the academic world, and to examine the way that the reputations, personalities, and even works and lives of the creators of literature are manipulated by those who claim to study them objectively. This means, incidentally, that there is considerable humour here, perhaps more direct than in any of Shields' other novels.
One very positive aspect of Mary Swann is the high quality of the poetry that Shields has written for her, encapsulating the descriptions given to it by the other characters in the novel. It is all too easy to describe a fictional character's literary work as outstanding, but to be unable to deliver quoted examples which live up to this standard. Not only must the quality be good, but the excerpts should also not be in the author's usual style, so that they should be distinct from the rest of the narrative. Shields gives the impression that she has managed to do all of this with ease, making the poetry a pleasure to read.
Carol Shields is also a superb prose stylist in her own right, as can be seen from any of her novels or short stories. Perhaps more so in the short stories, even, because they are often light on plot and concentrate on characterisation. However, here, the final film script section is less polished, probably because of the choice of form. Ending with the poorest part of the novel proves anticlimactic, even though it contains the climax of the plot. But even so, I enjoyed Mary Swann immensely.
January 1, 2016
It comes as quite a shock at the beginning of the fifth chapter of "Swann" to be reminded that Sarah Maloney, Morton Jimroy, Rose Hindmarch and Frederick Cuzzi area all fictional characters. By that time, having read each of their brushes with Mary Swann (who is also fictitious) and her poetry, you feel that you'd recognize them in a crowd.
In this early novel, Carol Shields shows the talent developed in later works, especially her penchant for using disparate literary styles to tell the story. Her characters are so beautifully formed; they leap from the page and demand you get to know them. Locations are so vividly described, you feel you could immediately find them, should you be transported to Chicago, Palo Alto, Nardeau or Kingston.
In 1965, within hours of submitting her body of work, written on scraps of paper and stored in a paper bag, to literary publisher and newspaper owner, Frederick Cruzzi, Mary Swann, a "primitive" poet from rural Canada, was hacked to pieces by her violent brute of a husband. The 125 poems were subsequently published in a small, stapled pamphlet with a limited run of 250 copies, most of which Cruzzi and his wife ended up giving away.
Many years after publication, Sarah Maloney, a feminist scholar of some note, found a copy in the limited selection or reading material in a remote cottage on a lake in Wisconsin, where she'd gone to have a good long, hard think about her life. Intrigued, she set out to find out more about Swann and her poetry, and soon was in correspondence with a select little group of assorted fans and scholars, including pretentious Morton Jimroy, self-appointed biographer, spinsterly Rose Hindmarch, librarian who lent books to Swann, worldwise Frederick Cuzzi, publisher to whom Swann entrusted her work.
The present time of the book is 1987, and the first ever Swann Symposium is about to take place. Strange things start happening with Swann memorabilia - Sarah's copy of "Swann's Songs" can't be found; Cruzzi's house is burgled and the only things missing are the four copies of the pamphlet he'd retained; one of the two known photographs of Mary Swann goes missing from the Nardeau library.
In this fascinating tale, it's intriguing how the threads of Mary Swann's life slowly pull together, even as she seems to be disappearing forever and how the works of an extremely little known poet, dead for more than 20 years, cause such bitter rivalries, jealousies and criminal behaviour. But even as she becomes more ephemeral, her effect on her admirers becomes more profound.
The first four chapters, almost novellas, of this book titled "Mary Swan" in the British edition I found in my library, each tell of a central character's encounter with Swann and/or her work. The Swan Symposium, the final chapter, is written as a play, which I thought at first was a little precious. Then I realized that since it all took place in a hotel and was mostly dialogue anyway, what better way of expressing it. Readers are spared all the words normally used to pad dialogue out into sentences. "Bit part" players are given beautifully descriptive names like Butter Mouth, Merry Eyes, Silver Cufflinks, Woman with Turban, Woman in Pale Suede Boots, Wistful Demeanour and Crinkled Forehead - that's all you need to picture them.
"Swann" has been described as a "literary mystery" but it's not a traditional mystery with a detective following up clues - in fact, I think to categorize it as a mystery is to sell this rich and intriguing work short. If you want to categorize it at all, it's a beautifully subtle satire aimed at the pretentiousness found in the literary world. If any of Ms Shields' novels were worthy of a Pulitzer Prize, this is the one.
In this early novel, Carol Shields shows the talent developed in later works, especially her penchant for using disparate literary styles to tell the story. Her characters are so beautifully formed; they leap from the page and demand you get to know them. Locations are so vividly described, you feel you could immediately find them, should you be transported to Chicago, Palo Alto, Nardeau or Kingston.
In 1965, within hours of submitting her body of work, written on scraps of paper and stored in a paper bag, to literary publisher and newspaper owner, Frederick Cruzzi, Mary Swann, a "primitive" poet from rural Canada, was hacked to pieces by her violent brute of a husband. The 125 poems were subsequently published in a small, stapled pamphlet with a limited run of 250 copies, most of which Cruzzi and his wife ended up giving away.
Many years after publication, Sarah Maloney, a feminist scholar of some note, found a copy in the limited selection or reading material in a remote cottage on a lake in Wisconsin, where she'd gone to have a good long, hard think about her life. Intrigued, she set out to find out more about Swann and her poetry, and soon was in correspondence with a select little group of assorted fans and scholars, including pretentious Morton Jimroy, self-appointed biographer, spinsterly Rose Hindmarch, librarian who lent books to Swann, worldwise Frederick Cuzzi, publisher to whom Swann entrusted her work.
The present time of the book is 1987, and the first ever Swann Symposium is about to take place. Strange things start happening with Swann memorabilia - Sarah's copy of "Swann's Songs" can't be found; Cruzzi's house is burgled and the only things missing are the four copies of the pamphlet he'd retained; one of the two known photographs of Mary Swann goes missing from the Nardeau library.
In this fascinating tale, it's intriguing how the threads of Mary Swann's life slowly pull together, even as she seems to be disappearing forever and how the works of an extremely little known poet, dead for more than 20 years, cause such bitter rivalries, jealousies and criminal behaviour. But even as she becomes more ephemeral, her effect on her admirers becomes more profound.
The first four chapters, almost novellas, of this book titled "Mary Swan" in the British edition I found in my library, each tell of a central character's encounter with Swann and/or her work. The Swan Symposium, the final chapter, is written as a play, which I thought at first was a little precious. Then I realized that since it all took place in a hotel and was mostly dialogue anyway, what better way of expressing it. Readers are spared all the words normally used to pad dialogue out into sentences. "Bit part" players are given beautifully descriptive names like Butter Mouth, Merry Eyes, Silver Cufflinks, Woman with Turban, Woman in Pale Suede Boots, Wistful Demeanour and Crinkled Forehead - that's all you need to picture them.
"Swann" has been described as a "literary mystery" but it's not a traditional mystery with a detective following up clues - in fact, I think to categorize it as a mystery is to sell this rich and intriguing work short. If you want to categorize it at all, it's a beautifully subtle satire aimed at the pretentiousness found in the literary world. If any of Ms Shields' novels were worthy of a Pulitzer Prize, this is the one.
May 20, 2008
I read this book cover to cover and could find no possible correlation between the content and the nude picture on the cover (I was reading the 1987 edition). I'm not prudish enough to worry about it, but it did make reading the book around my 13-year-old son or on the shuttle to work a bit awkward!
Well! Now that that's off my chest, I can say that this was one of the most literarily delicious books I have ever read. I would have given it five stars, but I didn't like the convention of ending the story with a screenplay. I simply must give you an example of the writing--here's the response when Cruzzi is asked to write his autobiography:
"The truth is that except for those of Orwell and Pritchett, autobiography is a form that offends him. The cosy cherishing of self is only part of the problem. There is the inevitable lack of perspective, not to mention hideous evasions, settlings of scores, awesome preciosity, and the appalling melted fat of rumination, barrels of it, boatloads. Most of the people in the world, he tells Halpenny, could write their autobiographies in one line."
Carol Shields' descriptive passages are exactly how I wish I could write and express myself. I love that the characters are pretentious and pompous and that they read Virginia Woolf in bed lunching on herrings and sour cream.
I love that this book is about a poet, and that we get to read her poems, and that they contribute to the plot. Mary Swann, murdered poet and posthumous author, is mysterious and mundane at the same time. Even as her afficionados struggle to define and illuminate her writing, it is disappearing--her notebook, the few photographs, and the entire limited edition of her one publication. I was fascinated how the author wove the main characters' personalities and literary proclivities into the primary theme of lost things.
Well! Now that that's off my chest, I can say that this was one of the most literarily delicious books I have ever read. I would have given it five stars, but I didn't like the convention of ending the story with a screenplay. I simply must give you an example of the writing--here's the response when Cruzzi is asked to write his autobiography:
"The truth is that except for those of Orwell and Pritchett, autobiography is a form that offends him. The cosy cherishing of self is only part of the problem. There is the inevitable lack of perspective, not to mention hideous evasions, settlings of scores, awesome preciosity, and the appalling melted fat of rumination, barrels of it, boatloads. Most of the people in the world, he tells Halpenny, could write their autobiographies in one line."
Carol Shields' descriptive passages are exactly how I wish I could write and express myself. I love that the characters are pretentious and pompous and that they read Virginia Woolf in bed lunching on herrings and sour cream.
I love that this book is about a poet, and that we get to read her poems, and that they contribute to the plot. Mary Swann, murdered poet and posthumous author, is mysterious and mundane at the same time. Even as her afficionados struggle to define and illuminate her writing, it is disappearing--her notebook, the few photographs, and the entire limited edition of her one publication. I was fascinated how the author wove the main characters' personalities and literary proclivities into the primary theme of lost things.
March 24, 2010
This is one of those books that is difficult to get through, but well worth it. The first section irritated me so much that I almost gave up. If I hadn't bought the book, I probably wouldn't have finished it (even though it was for book club).
But this author went on to show me that a quick judgment can keep you from the prize. The first four sections were written from four different characters views. But better than that, her style changed with each one.
First section: first person
Second section: third person, omniscient narrator
Third section: third person, reader experience
Fourth section: third person, secrets not told
And the final section to conclude the whole thing, a screenplay bringing all the characters together.
Beyond all this, it was a fun satire about literary analysis. It was also a commentary about gender roles, identity, self-worth, and the value of the mundane (among many other things).
There is just so much in this book. I truly believe that if I read this book over and over I would keep learning more and more.
But this author went on to show me that a quick judgment can keep you from the prize. The first four sections were written from four different characters views. But better than that, her style changed with each one.
First section: first person
Second section: third person, omniscient narrator
Third section: third person, reader experience
Fourth section: third person, secrets not told
And the final section to conclude the whole thing, a screenplay bringing all the characters together.
Beyond all this, it was a fun satire about literary analysis. It was also a commentary about gender roles, identity, self-worth, and the value of the mundane (among many other things).
There is just so much in this book. I truly believe that if I read this book over and over I would keep learning more and more.
March 20, 2018
Sarah Maloney, young academic, discovers the writing of Mary Swann, a forgotten Canadian poet, who produced only a handful of poems before her violent death. The books sets itself up to be an exploration of academia, poetry, feminism, but it disappointed me. Shields' writing is nuanced and accomplished, especially in the first section of this book, but despite her development of character and layers of imagery, it left me cold. The first four sections focus on four different characters, and while the narrative voices are engaging and different from one another, Shields doesn't really give the reader space to fully understand her character's motivations. The ending, written in the form of a screenplay, becomes farcical, perhaps deliberately, but this is a disappointing conclusion to a book that begins with so much promise. Mary Swann is a fascinating and elusive character, and I feel she deserves more than Shields gave her.
January 1, 2011
Hm. I finished it, so it was compelling enough. But it was kind of dull, a bit bizarre, and morally questionable. The plot was vaguely a "mystery" shaped around an obscure poet and a symposium in her honor. There was not much to recommend the poet. Not much to recommend the other characters. And the mystery did not play a central role in the book. So what was the point? I suspect the point was feminist personality analysis. I was interested in the way the author portrayed the various characters -- each section of the book was written from the perspective of the various characters. So it was not really about the obscure fictional poet after whom the book was named after all, was it? Which brings me back to my concluding feeling of: eh.
February 25, 2021
Mary Swann, an uneducated farmer's wife is hacked to death by her husband in the hours before her talents are revealed to the world. We meet her work through four accounts of those going to a planned symposium of her work: the academic, the biographer, the librarian, the publisher. Shields' ability to paint rounded pictures of her protagonists is demonstrated at full throttle here, and I loved the way that the symposium and attendant mystery are portrayed. An involving, amusing and rewarding read.
August 10, 2013
I admit my bias – I’m in love with Shields’ writing style, and she doesn’t disappoint. So that gets four stars from me off the top. I get her tongue-in-cheek look at academia’s manipulation of piteous Mary Swann’s humble poetry, projecting star status onto it, and that made me smile or snicker occasionally. But I was not pulled into this book as with others of hers that deal with issues to really chew on. It was an enjoyable light summer read.
March 24, 2013
This book was so creative and I loved how the whole story revolved around a character that does not really materialize. The four central characters in this book were so unique and I loved how Carol Shields interconnected each of them. I have read this book several times and I just love it each time I read it. So mysterious, funny and just a really great read!
November 16, 2014
When Margaret Atwood calls it "One of the best novels I've read" you just know it's going to be good. Carol Shields...that American-born gem of Canadian Literature, who left us too soon (she was in her sixties when she passed away from cancer)is such a powerhouse, genius, magician of a writer that I don't even really feel like writing a review, or like writing at all: you know how it is when you feel so humbled-to-hackdom by someone's talent? Someone's gift? Someone's passion that turned to talent that was never a mere gift that dropped unbidden, but something that someone was clearly meant to do and clearly loved to do. Here was a writer who was really interested in people and in writing...even interested in the shortcomings of being interested in stuff like that.
I think that "Swann", ultimately, is a kind of love-letter to poetry, and the various characters who are enthusiasts of the late (fictitious) Mary Swann, through all their shortcomings adore literature probably above all (and yes, that may be part of their problem(s).)
So here is literature about literature and about people who love literature (is it any wonder Atwood loves this book?) I'm not going to re-hash the plot, but I WILL mention that Shields loves to play around with form (if that's the correct word?) and I am also thinking "postmodern" but I'm not even sure where that tag fits, in literature. Anyone who read The Stone Diaries by Shields will remember the bizarre middle section of photographs, as if from a biography, which seemed to add little to that Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, other than novelty. Here in "Swann" the playings with convention are more successful. For example the final section of the book is told cinematically as if it were a screenplay, with director's notes and the like. It even states in these "director's notes" that the various characters including poet Mary Swann, are fictional creations. For one brief moment I thought, "Noooooooo Carol, why did you have to say that?" And yet, I reminded myself, "Maria, you know this is a work of fiction, you knew it from the get-go, you never really forgot that, and that did not diminish your delight in reading it one little bit." So I read the rest of the book and its screenplay format without a bit of bother; it was just one more playful way of presenting the unfolding story. And it wasn't till I finished "Swann" and looked back, that I realized that the first section, written from point of view of scholar Sarah Maloney, is in first person, while the other three important living characters in the book and their respective sections are told in third person. Perhaps Shields felt closest to Sarah?
There is a lot of humour in the book, as Shields is able to show us these quirky intellectuals (the men, in particular, Morton Jimroy and Frederic Cruzzi) and their fussy, grumpy idiosyncrasies.
I'm going to have to put "spoiler alert" on this review because I really want to mention the passage where Cruzzi's wife inadvertently soaks and ruins a large portion of Mary Swann's writing...writing which had not been backed-up or duplicated anywhere. When Cruzzi and his wife spend all night attempting to dry out and decipher and even re-write using their best educated guesses, it's the most touching and heartbreaking section of the entire novel. That's when it clicked to me that Cruzzi, at the very least, loves poetry above all. And he loves his wife for supporting his love and standing by and nurturing it. Another passage where Cruzzi finds Mary Swann's gesture of touching her own earlobe the most erotic thing he's ever seen, again re-iterates that it's the poetry and the poetess which move him (Mary Swann has been described as a plain and mousy woman, so we know that Cruzzi is moved by things beneath the surface.)
If you love good literature; smart, deep, probing, funny, surprising writing I think you will enjoy "Swann" by Carol Shields. If I had to gripe about anything, it would be the improbable mystery aspect of the story: this cheapens things just a little bit. I did not really care about who was stealing the various Mary Swann memorabilia, mainly because this part of the story did not ring very true. I'm also embarrassed to admit that I did not really guess the thief till very late in the book. I like to think this is because I dismissed the thieving whenever it happened, as being a bit silly and far-fetched...a part of the tale that I did not welcome. (I should know better than to second guess Carol Shields, instead of maybe trying to guess the identity of the thief.) I was not sure if perhaps the disappearance of the Swann memorabilia was going to take on a supernatural element, and I AM quite grateful that Shields did not go THERE! (I did like the tie-in with character Rose Hindmarch's penchant for mystery fiction.) But mainly, perhaps, it's the very idea that anyone could make such a fuss over obscure Can-Lit and go so far as to steal stuff from various parts of North America that pertain to the dowdy poetess of the title, that struck me as a bit jarring. These are minor gripes and the larger picture is Carol Shields as a kind of grand puppet master. Not only are her characters her puppets, but this reader was, too. Shields is truly a master.
I think that "Swann", ultimately, is a kind of love-letter to poetry, and the various characters who are enthusiasts of the late (fictitious) Mary Swann, through all their shortcomings adore literature probably above all (and yes, that may be part of their problem(s).)
So here is literature about literature and about people who love literature (is it any wonder Atwood loves this book?) I'm not going to re-hash the plot, but I WILL mention that Shields loves to play around with form (if that's the correct word?) and I am also thinking "postmodern" but I'm not even sure where that tag fits, in literature. Anyone who read The Stone Diaries by Shields will remember the bizarre middle section of photographs, as if from a biography, which seemed to add little to that Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, other than novelty. Here in "Swann" the playings with convention are more successful. For example the final section of the book is told cinematically as if it were a screenplay, with director's notes and the like. It even states in these "director's notes" that the various characters including poet Mary Swann, are fictional creations. For one brief moment I thought, "Noooooooo Carol, why did you have to say that?" And yet, I reminded myself, "Maria, you know this is a work of fiction, you knew it from the get-go, you never really forgot that, and that did not diminish your delight in reading it one little bit." So I read the rest of the book and its screenplay format without a bit of bother; it was just one more playful way of presenting the unfolding story. And it wasn't till I finished "Swann" and looked back, that I realized that the first section, written from point of view of scholar Sarah Maloney, is in first person, while the other three important living characters in the book and their respective sections are told in third person. Perhaps Shields felt closest to Sarah?
There is a lot of humour in the book, as Shields is able to show us these quirky intellectuals (the men, in particular, Morton Jimroy and Frederic Cruzzi) and their fussy, grumpy idiosyncrasies.
I'm going to have to put "spoiler alert" on this review because I really want to mention the passage where Cruzzi's wife inadvertently soaks and ruins a large portion of Mary Swann's writing...writing which had not been backed-up or duplicated anywhere. When Cruzzi and his wife spend all night attempting to dry out and decipher and even re-write using their best educated guesses, it's the most touching and heartbreaking section of the entire novel. That's when it clicked to me that Cruzzi, at the very least, loves poetry above all. And he loves his wife for supporting his love and standing by and nurturing it. Another passage where Cruzzi finds Mary Swann's gesture of touching her own earlobe the most erotic thing he's ever seen, again re-iterates that it's the poetry and the poetess which move him (Mary Swann has been described as a plain and mousy woman, so we know that Cruzzi is moved by things beneath the surface.)
If you love good literature; smart, deep, probing, funny, surprising writing I think you will enjoy "Swann" by Carol Shields. If I had to gripe about anything, it would be the improbable mystery aspect of the story: this cheapens things just a little bit. I did not really care about who was stealing the various Mary Swann memorabilia, mainly because this part of the story did not ring very true. I'm also embarrassed to admit that I did not really guess the thief till very late in the book. I like to think this is because I dismissed the thieving whenever it happened, as being a bit silly and far-fetched...a part of the tale that I did not welcome. (I should know better than to second guess Carol Shields, instead of maybe trying to guess the identity of the thief.) I was not sure if perhaps the disappearance of the Swann memorabilia was going to take on a supernatural element, and I AM quite grateful that Shields did not go THERE! (I did like the tie-in with character Rose Hindmarch's penchant for mystery fiction.) But mainly, perhaps, it's the very idea that anyone could make such a fuss over obscure Can-Lit and go so far as to steal stuff from various parts of North America that pertain to the dowdy poetess of the title, that struck me as a bit jarring. These are minor gripes and the larger picture is Carol Shields as a kind of grand puppet master. Not only are her characters her puppets, but this reader was, too. Shields is truly a master.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
January 21, 2018
Läste på svenska.
August 23, 2018
This was a waste of time
Stupid if I only was given one word to describe this book.
Stupid if I only was given one word to describe this book.
February 11, 2024
4.5 stars
March 26, 2020
Puuduttava parodia ? kirjallisuusmaailmasta. Ei jatkoon.
February 22, 2010
This was my first exposure to the writing of Carol Shields. When an author is from your home town you end up being very aware of all of their work at certain points. I remember when she was writing there would be a lot of news stories whenever her latest book would come out. There is familiarity in this, and she manages to weave Winnipeg into this work here and there.
The first portions of Swann tell the story from the point of view of the four principles. Her use of language really appealed to me. She has a nice turn of phrase. The prose flows well and her storytelling ability is terrific.
The final portion of the book takes place as a breakdown of a film...dialogue, camera angles, etc...dealing with the symposium about the poetess Mary Swann. This is what the events of the first four sections have been leading up to. It's a little bizarre but you get used to it right away.
There is an abiding mystery, that is given to us, about Mary Swann. She is a backwoods poet. She seems to have produced great works without inspiration from what has come before her. She has no access to Dickinson, but she is Dickinsonian. On the night she gives her poems to a publisher she is murdered by her abusive husband. All of this is dark and dreary enough, but added to it in the book is that the few copies of her work, along with the remaining elements of her life, are disappearing! Stolen by person or persons unknown.
It all culminates in a reveal at the symposium that has a real comedic undertone.
While it didn't end in the way that I had expected it to, I found this to be an engaging book. I literally didn't put it down for two days.
The first portions of Swann tell the story from the point of view of the four principles. Her use of language really appealed to me. She has a nice turn of phrase. The prose flows well and her storytelling ability is terrific.
The final portion of the book takes place as a breakdown of a film...dialogue, camera angles, etc...dealing with the symposium about the poetess Mary Swann. This is what the events of the first four sections have been leading up to. It's a little bizarre but you get used to it right away.
There is an abiding mystery, that is given to us, about Mary Swann. She is a backwoods poet. She seems to have produced great works without inspiration from what has come before her. She has no access to Dickinson, but she is Dickinsonian. On the night she gives her poems to a publisher she is murdered by her abusive husband. All of this is dark and dreary enough, but added to it in the book is that the few copies of her work, along with the remaining elements of her life, are disappearing! Stolen by person or persons unknown.
It all culminates in a reveal at the symposium that has a real comedic undertone.
While it didn't end in the way that I had expected it to, I found this to be an engaging book. I literally didn't put it down for two days.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
June 15, 2014
This novel takes a satirical look at academia and its deconstruction of art through criticism and research resulting in the reconstruction of the art in the image of the critics. The first four sections are essentially character studies of the four main characters that could stand alone and yet are effectively intertwined with the other main characters. I love how Carol Shields' writing just flows effortlessly and how she can make the most ordinary characters and situations interesting and relatable. In the fourth section, one of the characters describes a friend as sniffing "a kind of godly oxygen that binds one human being to the next and shortens the distance we must travel to discover that our most private perceptions are universally felt." That is exactly what Carol Shields does with her writing! The only negative of the book was the last section which is written as a screenplay. I did not enjoy reading that section as it is all dialogue and stage/directorial directions and Shields' ability with prose is nonexistent. The directorial notes tell you what the characters should be feeling as opposed to showing you. I also did not enjoy the ending as (SPOILER ALERT) I felt the motives behind the supposed collaboration between Brownie and Lang weren't really clear to me.
December 27, 2023
I read this years ago for the first time and had only a vague memory of the novel. So this time around, I found a funny satire about the world of literary fame and scholarship. Four characters have a vested personal interest in the life and poetry of a tragic self-taught poet named Mary Swann, who was tragically murdered by her husband and left little trace of her life aside from the poems she wrote on scraps of paper. Each of the four gets their own section and we learn all about them. However, the form takes a jarring turn for the final quarter of the book from straight narrative into a more meta take via screenplay and for me, it doesn’t work and in fact derails the novel. So what was rather pleasurable becomes more tedious. The pleasure of Shields’ prose work in the earlier sections foretells her (better) novels to come.
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