A lovely, sprawling novel about life, love, hurt, and the choices we make in life.
The novel, published in 1930, draws heavily on Canfield Fisher’s own life experiences: growing up as a professor’s daughter in a succession of university towns, a sabbatical in France, a happy marriage, and joining the First World War effort in France in 1915. It’s a very thick book, divided in four parts that are separate from each other.
The first part, describing main character Matey’s childhood and upbringing, was to me the strongest. With unspairing honesty and razor sharp detail, CF details the unhappy marriage of Matey’s mother and father and the deep effect it has on her and her siblings. Matey’s older sister Priscilla is psychologically maimed for life, not being able to bear the incessant warfare, abuse and hurt her parents inflict on each other, as a result thinking herself never being able to marry. Her brother Francis, on the other hand, less sensitive, emulates their father’s casual cruelty and social climbing, shaping his life after his father’s standards. Matey, the youngest, is able to escape her home mainly by the changing times relaxing the constraints of girls. As a child, she is allowed to stay out all day, playing with the neighborhood children, like her sister hadn’t been able to. When the family moves to France for a year, she is provided with a loving, intellectual French family household to take care of her during the day while her parents are busy. And back in the US, when she is deeply unhappy, a small dog gives her both the love she needs and the ability to escape outdoors in the evenings. I was deeply moved by both Matey’s struggle and Priscilla’s hinted-at deep depression.
The second part of the novel describes Matey emerging from her unhappy childhood and meeting, then marrying, a distant cousin living in the countryside. She is wary of entering into marriage, wondering when her caring Adrian will turn into her cruel father, but to her surprise, this never happens and it turns out to be a very happy marriage. Her husband’s family are Quakers, which provides us with some very dated, quaint speech in the dialogues (“thy” and “thee”) and sentimental philosophical discussions, which at times became tedious. However, this is somewhat balanced by the well-drawn portrait of Matey and her siblings and their interactions. I found myself pondering just how their childhood had each affected them, and marveling at how well CF conveys this.
The third part starts at the declaration of WWI. After a long time of agonizing and getting letters about the terrible situation in France, Matey and her husband decides to take their children and go to Paris. Adrian is to volunteer as an ambulance driver and Matey to take care of what’s left of the French family that had taken her in as a child. This section is a large part of the book, and made me feel somewhat conflicted. On one hand, it’s an interesting war document of life on the ground - CF herself lived through the war in Paris. On the other hand, it’s sentimentally described, with most people being impossibly noble although despairing. I was also jarred at the French family suddenly starting to talk like Quakers with “thy” and “thee” (why??). The main point that CF wants to get across is that people’s goodness and caring for each other is what can defeat war and make life worth living for.
In the concluding part, the war is over and Matey’s family return to their village in the US to begin life again.
This is such a beautifully written book. I was mesmerized and had a hard time putting it down. It’s not a perfect novel - it’s sprawling, uneven, dated in parts, and occasionally sentimental. But it’s also a wonderful, deeply felt novel, a pleasure to read and a wealth to savor. I loved Matey and the others and wanted to find out what happened to them. I didn’t love this quite as much as The Home-Maker m, which to me is an almost perfect novel, but it was definitely a four-star read.