Like many smallish and inelegant towns that dot the coastlines and crossroads of this country, Shean’s postwar, post-industrial economy is in desperate disrepair, and the lengths that some civic leaders will go to in order to do “what’s best” for a town like Shean sometimes requires a leap of faith that has unintended consequences.
When a global corporation plans a daring scheme to exploit the remaining coal from an improbable source – and thus to secure Shean’s economic future – politicians try to marginalize the few voices of dissent.
I started reading Frank MacDonald's first novel, A Forest for Calum, a year or so ago. I was enjoying the story but had to return the book to the library before finishing it. I borrowed the book last week and quickly read it from cover to cover. I was totally immersed in the lives of Calum, Roddie, Duncan and Mary Scotland.
Roddie Gillies lives with his grandfather, Calum Gillies, a Gaelic speaker and a carpenter who settled in the small town of Sheamus when its coal mines were booming.
Roddie and his friends - their Roman Catholic school days, adolescent capers and budding sexuality - are growing up during a critical period; the golden age of the automobile, radio and popular music all exert profound pressures on rural communities like Shean, which has thrived and survived for nearly two hundred years.
A quiet and stoic man, Calum Gillies and his aging friends illuminate for us the changing world around them: the loss of the coal mines, the labour strife and lean years endured, the religious parochialism that divides families and communities, and a disappearing language.
A Forest for Calum explores complex lives of rural communities in the post-war, post-heavy industry decades of the mid-twentieth century. It does so with dignity and humour. The setting is Cape Breton, Nova Scotia; the themes of cultural and rural change and decline are universal. The dialogue and narrative evoke the lilting language of a largely rural culture in a seamless fashion. 4.7 stars
This book has been on my To Read list for a while. I think just because it was about Cape Breton and by a Canadian author. I had a really hard time finding a copy though, until I happened upon one at a bookstore in Halifax. I'm sorry it took me so long to read because I loved it and I think it is one of my top five favourite books.
The author brought Shean and all the characters to life. I loved how the book was essentially just a bunch of anecdotes that still told an overarching story that was incredibly touching. I love stories that are deeply rooted in their setting and that immerse you so deeply in their world that you are sad to say goodbye at the end.
Sometimes I am lucky enough to find a book that plucks a string in my heart and reverberates in my imagination all the time I am reading it and for weeks after I finish it. I treasure these books. They do not turn up on my doorstep every day. I remember them fondly long afterward and mull over my memories of the characters and their experiences. A Forest for Calum is the latest such book to captivate me. Roddie Gillies, sometimes called Smelt, is the young hero of the tale. He lives with his grandfather Calum, once one of the best carpenters in the small Cape Breton town of Sean, and now a cantankerous old man with liver-spots and the stiffness of age, but for all that, still a man with keen sight and and a store of valuable knowledge. In spite of his grandfather's reserve, Roddie is drawn to Calum. It's not only because the old man took him in when his father and mother died; it's also because he knows he can learn from Calum if he pays attention. Something about Calum commands respect. He knows the secrets of the ancient housewrights--like the "wedge board"--and can build a house to last. He can speak Gaelic, a language dying with every old highlander buried in Cape Breton's cemeteries. He is a link to Roddie's parents and to his grandson's Scottish past, but paradoxically he is also a bridge to the present. The other end of that bridge is embodied in Roddie's schoolmate Duncan MacFarlane, an irrepressible, incorrigible prankster. It is Duncan who steals the communion wine from the church so he and Roddie can have their first go at strong drink. It is Duncan who infects Roddie with a passion for horse racing and helps his friend find his first paying job as a "piss whistler," and it is with Duncan that Roddie discovers girls, in particular the beautiful Mary Scotland. Duncan may be a rascal, but he is also a brave and loyal friend from whom Roddie learns lessons he could never learn from Calum. MacDonald's novel is a story about the old and the young, about the friendship of fast friends, the magic of young love, the importance of knowing where you come from, and about the sadness and joyfulness of growing up. It is the story of a few wonderful characters seen up close, and it is the story of a town full of such characters passing one on the street. Get in Mr. MacFarlane's Oldsmobile with Farter and Mary and Roddie, and with Duncan behind the wheel, and take a spin around Sean. I think you'll enjoy the ride.
It was a novel that read more like an interconnected series of short stories, all about the same people. It is the coming of age story of Roddie Gillies, his world ruled by his stoic grandfather, a man of genuine tradition, one of the original settlers of a town that since went boom and bust with the coal mines. I could feel its length as I read, but in the end it broke my heart in all the right places. MacDonald is a natural story teller and he connected all the emotional dots, providing a poignant tale of cultural change, the erosion of old ways and the maturation of young talent and pride. But most importantly, he brought the fictional town alive with detail and anecdote. In the end, I loved the characters like old friends, and their fates mattered to me.
I love Cape Breton and have romanticized it in my mind. This book added to the romance of the island. A heartwarming story that makes you long for the “good ol’ days”. The “good ol’ days” in these pages though were, by no means, written while wearing rose coloured glasses. The sense of family and community-as-family, was what really stood out for me.
I absolutely loved this book. A long, slow amble through the life of a young boy growing up in a small, changing, dying town in Cape Breton, it felt like going home. A poem in the vanishing Gaelic language, written and planted in trees, brought me to tears. It was like reading my childhood memories.
I loved this tale which is so well written as it presents a picture of Cape Breton life in a small town .in the late 50's and 60's. Mac Donald skillfully portrays the characters and and their individual stories.
It should be noted that Goodread's story's description is not for this book but describes Mac Donald's second novel, A Possible Madness.
This was Frank Macdonald’s first novel and it reminded me of my days growing up in the 1960’s in Inverness, Cape Breton. The coal mines were closing, people were leaving the Island to find work. The author is the main character in this book as he weaves a tale of a small community in transition. Well told, good character development, a book that is very hard to put down. The book is often humorous but is also poignant in many ways.
This is a fascinating read. At its heart is the idea of planting a poem - because the Gaelic alphabet has a tree associated with each letter, a poem can laid out on the landscape, letter by letter, tree by tree.
At the heart of the story is the relationship between Roddie and his grandfather Calum, a Gaelic speaker from Cape Breton in Canada, who has not taught his grandson the language (Roddie's parents are both dead). So the story is also about the loss of the Gaelic language and all the cultural associations that go with it. It's moving stuff, leavened by lots of fun, as Roddie grows up with some interesting people, particularly Duncan, a right little rebel.