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House of All Sorts
Memoir by well-known Canadian artist Emily Carr describing her adventures as a landlord and a dog breeder in Victoria, British Columbia.
166 pages, Paperback
First published November 30, 1943
10 people are currently reading
231 people want to read
About the author
Emily Carr
86 books86 followersEmily Carr (December 13, 1871 – March 2, 1945) was a Canadian artist and writer heavily inspired by the indigenous peoples of the Pacific Northwest Coast. One of the first painters in Canada to adopt a post-impressionist painting style, Carr did not receive widespread recognition for her work until later in her life. As she matured, the subject matter of her painting shifted from aboriginal themes to landscapes, and, in particular, forest scenes. As a writer, Carr was one of the earliest chroniclers of life in British Columbia. The Canadian Encyclopedia describes her as a "Canadian icon".
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 46 reviews
August 13, 2022
Canadian artist Emily Carr felt it would be grand to build a house and earn her living —and independence— as a landlady. She built the house in 1913 and the irony is that even though the design included a custom studio for her work, the demands and interruptions of tenants meant she was too busy to do much painting. Other factors, such as war and economic conditions, also contributed to how little she was able to earn from the property.
She was kind-hearted, it seems, perhaps too kind-hearted to support herself as a landlady, and this memoir is composed of many short pieces detailing a range of encounters with eccentric tenants, her own monkey, and various dogs (she also had a kennel and raised Bobtail Sheep Dogs).
Emily Carr is today an institution in Canada, both metaphorically and literally (there is a university in Vancouver named after her—previously the Emily Carr Institute of Art and Design, now the Emily Carr University of Art + Design).
All this is background and context to the author and artist, but what about the book? I loved the voice, the deft descriptions and spare prose. I enjoyed the gentle self-mocking of her naive approach and unfailing incompetence.
I also admired the format of what I was calling a "shadow memoir" — where we only glimpse the author through her observations, her interactions, and occasionally her complaints about not having time to paint. We see her shadow, when the light falls a certain way, and it is those murky depths that illuminate the artist.
Emily Carr lived in The House of All Sorts for 22 years, and her house remains in Victoria. A nearby property, today called the Emily Carr House, was her family's home when she was a child.
She was kind-hearted, it seems, perhaps too kind-hearted to support herself as a landlady, and this memoir is composed of many short pieces detailing a range of encounters with eccentric tenants, her own monkey, and various dogs (she also had a kennel and raised Bobtail Sheep Dogs).
Emily Carr is today an institution in Canada, both metaphorically and literally (there is a university in Vancouver named after her—previously the Emily Carr Institute of Art and Design, now the Emily Carr University of Art + Design).
All this is background and context to the author and artist, but what about the book? I loved the voice, the deft descriptions and spare prose. I enjoyed the gentle self-mocking of her naive approach and unfailing incompetence.
I also admired the format of what I was calling a "shadow memoir" — where we only glimpse the author through her observations, her interactions, and occasionally her complaints about not having time to paint. We see her shadow, when the light falls a certain way, and it is those murky depths that illuminate the artist.
Emily Carr lived in The House of All Sorts for 22 years, and her house remains in Victoria. A nearby property, today called the Emily Carr House, was her family's home when she was a child.
June 2, 2017
Emily Carr’s passion was painting, but she struggled throughout her life to support herself so she could either be at her easel or before her sketch pad. She wrote and at one point ventured into the world of what she called “landladying”. She had a small apartment house built with four suites, three she could rent out and one she would live in. It also included a studio where she could paint or draw.
Carr found herself dealing with a variety of tenants, the unpleasant ones far outnumbering those who were more agreeable and with whom she shared some happy moments. Some of her tenants were abusive and if they weren’t hassling her they were bothering, spying on or complaining about one another. There were always problems collecting the rent. She had to deal with would-be tenants who tried to bargain down the price and those who handed over their money late or reluctantly. When they refused to hand over any money at all, she was forced to call the police, a solution that proved to be most effective. Then there were the tenants who complained about the noise, the lack of space in their apartment or the condition and placement of the furniture. Carr describes her parade of tenants with a sharp critical pen--the sad lonely bachelors, the war widows, the happy and unhappy newly-weds and the mothers with sick or spoiled children.
Carr spent many cold wintery mornings shoveling snow from the walkways or coal into the furnace, not easy tasks for a woman in her forties. She found she had little or no time to paint or draw. Her only solace was the animals she kept as pets and the beloved Old English Bobtail sheep dogs she bred and kept in a kennel at the back of the property. She clearly loved her animals much more than any people she met and often they were her only sense of joy. She freely admited she would rather cater to creatures than to humans.
Carr found the joys of being a landlady few and far between and the irritations of the job completely overwhelming. She was finally forced to accept the experiment had been a complete failure and she eventually sold the building, glad to be rid of it.
This collection is full of wry, witty anecdotes about that experience as well as some heartwarming tales of the sheepdogs she bred and sold. Carr’s prose, like her painting, is sparse and direct but rich in the color and detail it gives to the scenes it paints in the readers mind.
Susan Musgrave has done an excellent job introducing the collection, providing a context for this time in Carr’s life. This book published in 1944 was the last published in Carr's lifetime and was the most successful part of this entire “landladying” venture.
A wonderful entertaining read.
Carr found herself dealing with a variety of tenants, the unpleasant ones far outnumbering those who were more agreeable and with whom she shared some happy moments. Some of her tenants were abusive and if they weren’t hassling her they were bothering, spying on or complaining about one another. There were always problems collecting the rent. She had to deal with would-be tenants who tried to bargain down the price and those who handed over their money late or reluctantly. When they refused to hand over any money at all, she was forced to call the police, a solution that proved to be most effective. Then there were the tenants who complained about the noise, the lack of space in their apartment or the condition and placement of the furniture. Carr describes her parade of tenants with a sharp critical pen--the sad lonely bachelors, the war widows, the happy and unhappy newly-weds and the mothers with sick or spoiled children.
Carr spent many cold wintery mornings shoveling snow from the walkways or coal into the furnace, not easy tasks for a woman in her forties. She found she had little or no time to paint or draw. Her only solace was the animals she kept as pets and the beloved Old English Bobtail sheep dogs she bred and kept in a kennel at the back of the property. She clearly loved her animals much more than any people she met and often they were her only sense of joy. She freely admited she would rather cater to creatures than to humans.
Carr found the joys of being a landlady few and far between and the irritations of the job completely overwhelming. She was finally forced to accept the experiment had been a complete failure and she eventually sold the building, glad to be rid of it.
This collection is full of wry, witty anecdotes about that experience as well as some heartwarming tales of the sheepdogs she bred and sold. Carr’s prose, like her painting, is sparse and direct but rich in the color and detail it gives to the scenes it paints in the readers mind.
Susan Musgrave has done an excellent job introducing the collection, providing a context for this time in Carr’s life. This book published in 1944 was the last published in Carr's lifetime and was the most successful part of this entire “landladying” venture.
A wonderful entertaining read.
February 28, 2025
I love how Emily Carr writes people- she tells the truth about how crazy people are when they’re at home and sharing the space with strangers. But the entire second half of this book is all about her sheepdogs for some reason which I didn’t care for.
January 31, 2019
I received this book as a Jolabokaflod gift on Christmas Eve from my Mum. It is now officially a treasured addition to my personal library.
Emily Carr is a famous Canadian artist from early-mid last century and I had no idea she also wrote some books. Reading this was like delving into a painting. Complex. Textured. Funny. Heart wrenching and thankfully also heartwarming because of her precious dogs.
I was a landlord in Toronto and just recently quit being an airbnb superhost (I hosted guests in my private home for 4 seasons) so the subject matter was quite personally relevant. But the struggle to be an artist was the clincher for me. She doesn't discuss this much in this book and if you are familiar with her astounding Canadian legacy in the visual arts world you won't need that information to understand the poignancy of her writing efforts - her description of her studio in the House of All Sorts nearly moved me to tears.
Emily Carr is a famous Canadian artist from early-mid last century and I had no idea she also wrote some books. Reading this was like delving into a painting. Complex. Textured. Funny. Heart wrenching and thankfully also heartwarming because of her precious dogs.
I was a landlord in Toronto and just recently quit being an airbnb superhost (I hosted guests in my private home for 4 seasons) so the subject matter was quite personally relevant. But the struggle to be an artist was the clincher for me. She doesn't discuss this much in this book and if you are familiar with her astounding Canadian legacy in the visual arts world you won't need that information to understand the poignancy of her writing efforts - her description of her studio in the House of All Sorts nearly moved me to tears.
September 22, 2019
This is a book of anecdotes, really, written up in such a way as to be dramatised to the best of the author's ability, and with additional elements of suspense and the like. There's no beginning or end, really; most of the stories could be read in any order.
Carr built a house with rooms to rent so that she could spend more time painting in her own studio within that house. But the life of a landlady took over everything, and painting got a very poor second place. For twenty years. It's not surprising that she sounds frustrated at many of her tenants - especially when she has to even rent out her beloved studio to make ends meet.
Nevertheless, she presents some wonderful characters, many of them not particularly endearing. She obviously had some good tenants, and longstanding ones but the bulk of the ones appearing in the stories are a pain in the neck.
Carr is an excellent writer: succinct, stylish, and able to tell a good story within the format she's chosen. I didn't read the second shorter part of the book which is about her Bobtail dogs
Carr built a house with rooms to rent so that she could spend more time painting in her own studio within that house. But the life of a landlady took over everything, and painting got a very poor second place. For twenty years. It's not surprising that she sounds frustrated at many of her tenants - especially when she has to even rent out her beloved studio to make ends meet.
Nevertheless, she presents some wonderful characters, many of them not particularly endearing. She obviously had some good tenants, and longstanding ones but the bulk of the ones appearing in the stories are a pain in the neck.
Carr is an excellent writer: succinct, stylish, and able to tell a good story within the format she's chosen. I didn't read the second shorter part of the book which is about her Bobtail dogs
March 2, 2019
Snippets:
P9 "Develop the landlady face."
p18 "Up came the sun and drank the dew."
P121 "The song of the meadowlark crumbled away the last remnants of night."
A collection of non-fiction short, short stories about her experience as a landlady in an odd apartment house in Victoria with some peculiar and often abusive tenants.
This renowned artist struggled so much to make ends meet.
My rating is subjective. I had the same struggle though unrenowned.
P9 "Develop the landlady face."
p18 "Up came the sun and drank the dew."
P121 "The song of the meadowlark crumbled away the last remnants of night."
A collection of non-fiction short, short stories about her experience as a landlady in an odd apartment house in Victoria with some peculiar and often abusive tenants.
This renowned artist struggled so much to make ends meet.
My rating is subjective. I had the same struggle though unrenowned.
October 20, 2017
I wasn't familiar with Emily Carr before reading this book. Although I enjoyed the book - and the diverse and truly interesting (all sorts) of people in it - I wish I'd looked her up first. I think I'd have appreciated it a little more.
August 26, 2019
I’ve turned into a real Emily Carr fan! Although these stories are based on her real life experiences while running the inn - when I visited Victoria and went looking for the house - it didn’t appear to be a well known fact that the house still existed. I look an early morning ramble through Beacon Hill park and felt Carr (minus the dogs!) and saw many of the spots she referenced.
November 8, 2025
2.5 Stars.
The back cover of The House of All Sorts mentioned "occasionally humorous stories", but the promised humour eluded me through this book; it's mostly rather bitter complaining about an endless stream of dreadful tenants. So much complaining that I'm tempted to wonder if some of the unhappy tales were "embellished" memories.
Right off the bat I have to point out that in two completely different parts of the book she tells the same story of a bullying brute of a tenant who slapped her hard across the face in the coal shed. Wouldn't an editor catch this? Also, part way through she tells of selling the house at a young age, then goes on telling more unhappy tales for many chapters.
In a way it felt to me like a series of short stories stitched together rather than a continuous tale.
Had Emily Carr not been a much loved painter, I rather doubt I would have made it through the entire book. The second half was more pleasant to read as it was about breeding her beloved Bobtail English Sheepdogs. Unlike humans, she dearly loves her dogs. An entire book about the dogs may have been a better subject, because through their stories we see a completely different Emily Carr than the perennially hard-done-by Landlady.
She was unable to sell many paintings, or even attract the rather narrow Art Establishment of Victoria, BC to come to her small exhibitions. At one time Victoria as a city was perhaps sarcastically referred to as being "More English than England", due to all the ex-pats and a general civic desire to be as much like an English city as a far flung colonial island could possibly imitate.
It seems that she was not well received or liked in Victoria which I think ground down her spirit, but ironically now that she is long gone, Emily Carr seems to be one of Victoria's proud tourist attractions and apparently now "much loved".
Shame they hadn't showed her more pride and love when she was alive. An irony there. In a way it is too bad that she hadn't moved to a city that was more open and accepting of her art.
Would I recommend the book? Not really. Do I recommend her magnificent paintings? Wholeheartedly.
The back cover of The House of All Sorts mentioned "occasionally humorous stories", but the promised humour eluded me through this book; it's mostly rather bitter complaining about an endless stream of dreadful tenants. So much complaining that I'm tempted to wonder if some of the unhappy tales were "embellished" memories.
Right off the bat I have to point out that in two completely different parts of the book she tells the same story of a bullying brute of a tenant who slapped her hard across the face in the coal shed. Wouldn't an editor catch this? Also, part way through she tells of selling the house at a young age, then goes on telling more unhappy tales for many chapters.
In a way it felt to me like a series of short stories stitched together rather than a continuous tale.
Had Emily Carr not been a much loved painter, I rather doubt I would have made it through the entire book. The second half was more pleasant to read as it was about breeding her beloved Bobtail English Sheepdogs. Unlike humans, she dearly loves her dogs. An entire book about the dogs may have been a better subject, because through their stories we see a completely different Emily Carr than the perennially hard-done-by Landlady.
She was unable to sell many paintings, or even attract the rather narrow Art Establishment of Victoria, BC to come to her small exhibitions. At one time Victoria as a city was perhaps sarcastically referred to as being "More English than England", due to all the ex-pats and a general civic desire to be as much like an English city as a far flung colonial island could possibly imitate.
It seems that she was not well received or liked in Victoria which I think ground down her spirit, but ironically now that she is long gone, Emily Carr seems to be one of Victoria's proud tourist attractions and apparently now "much loved".
Shame they hadn't showed her more pride and love when she was alive. An irony there. In a way it is too bad that she hadn't moved to a city that was more open and accepting of her art.
Would I recommend the book? Not really. Do I recommend her magnificent paintings? Wholeheartedly.
August 18, 2024
Emily Carr's record of her misadventures as a landlady provides a series of little windows into what life was like in British Columbia around the 1910s-1930s.
I enjoyed how the writing was broken up into short 1 - 3 page vignettes that still effectively captured the people, animals and situations. Some (most?) of Carr's tenants were pretty horrible. It was also disheartening to read about her creating a studio she couldn't even use because times became so desperate that she also needed to rent the space.
The final third of the book is more focused on her raising English bobtails (incidentally my brother's favorite dog breed.) She clearly loved animals and even had a pet monkey.
The monkey is mentioned so incidentally that it makes me wonder if it was a more common pet in the 1920s. It's now illegal to keep them as pets in BC, so I found it interesting. (This sent me down a bit of a rabbit hole - I found out there's even a book that's been written about Emily Carr's monkey, so I might have to check that out.)
I appreciated my time with this book. One thing I do dislike though, is when individual dialects are recorded phonetically in the text. At worst it reads as insulting to the person involved and at best it's difficult to read. There's not an overwhelming amount of that here, but every time it happened I winced.
I enjoyed how the writing was broken up into short 1 - 3 page vignettes that still effectively captured the people, animals and situations. Some (most?) of Carr's tenants were pretty horrible. It was also disheartening to read about her creating a studio she couldn't even use because times became so desperate that she also needed to rent the space.
The final third of the book is more focused on her raising English bobtails (incidentally my brother's favorite dog breed.) She clearly loved animals and even had a pet monkey.
The monkey is mentioned so incidentally that it makes me wonder if it was a more common pet in the 1920s. It's now illegal to keep them as pets in BC, so I found it interesting. (This sent me down a bit of a rabbit hole - I found out there's even a book that's been written about Emily Carr's monkey, so I might have to check that out.)
I appreciated my time with this book. One thing I do dislike though, is when individual dialects are recorded phonetically in the text. At worst it reads as insulting to the person involved and at best it's difficult to read. There's not an overwhelming amount of that here, but every time it happened I winced.
August 13, 2017
I wasn't sure what to expect from this memoir. Emily Carr is one of Canada's most beloved painters and I was hoping to get a glimpse into her life. Emily's voice is clever, concise, and warm-hearted with a touch of cynical humour. Overall the book is well-written, however, the content isn't very interesting; she hardly mentions her artwork because she is too busy being a landlady and doing chores like cleaning, gardening, shoveling coals, rearranging furniture, evicting tenants, etc.
This book is mostly centred around Emily's tenants rather than her, which was somewhat disappointing (however, each chapter is like a short character sketch, so it was still somewhat entertaining). The last third of the book was painfully boring since it was about her adventures as an English Sheepdog breeder. I'm not a dog lover. I know that she was trying to make each canine character seem as interesting as the human characters, but it fell flat for me.
This book is mostly centred around Emily's tenants rather than her, which was somewhat disappointing (however, each chapter is like a short character sketch, so it was still somewhat entertaining). The last third of the book was painfully boring since it was about her adventures as an English Sheepdog breeder. I'm not a dog lover. I know that she was trying to make each canine character seem as interesting as the human characters, but it fell flat for me.
November 13, 2017
Darker than The Book of Small (my favorite), The House of All Sorts is still a rewarding read. In the first half of the book, Emily describes the trials of being a landlady. Parts were hard to empathize with (the way she allows tenants to walk all over her, kills stray cats, beats a dog) and I deducted a star for the story leaving me feel rather depressed. But, those were the times, and this was her life during an unhappy period, all described in her brilliantly straightforward, observant, no-fluff manner. The second half of the book is about the sheepdogs. I cried happy and sad tears. She clearly likes animals more than she likes most people. I get that. I think we could have been friends. I will think of this next I visit her grave in Ross Bay Cemetery.
August 13, 2022
I bought this book from Munro’s Books (Alice Munro’s husband’s bookshop), while visiting Victoria recently.
We were staying a few blocks from The House of All Sorts so it was really wonderful to read about the area we had just visited: Beacon Hill Park, etc.
Emily Carr writes in a very lyrical (almost stream of consciousness, at times) way. There are terms (like Indian) that some may find offensive (warning).
This book is a series of vignettes from a time in Emily Carr’s life, before her paintings were critically accepted and she had to be a landlady (and then a dog breeder) to help make ends meet. Fascinating to think about this time in her life and it was completely unknown to me, before reading The House of All Sorts.
We were staying a few blocks from The House of All Sorts so it was really wonderful to read about the area we had just visited: Beacon Hill Park, etc.
Emily Carr writes in a very lyrical (almost stream of consciousness, at times) way. There are terms (like Indian) that some may find offensive (warning).
This book is a series of vignettes from a time in Emily Carr’s life, before her paintings were critically accepted and she had to be a landlady (and then a dog breeder) to help make ends meet. Fascinating to think about this time in her life and it was completely unknown to me, before reading The House of All Sorts.
February 18, 2025
Experiencing Emily Carr as a witty, curt writer fully of quips and stark imagery as opposed to a painter is impressive. Few in my books have mastered the art of low to minimal word counts, whereas Carr's ability to capture conflict and character—a whole story that is—within a small scene is astonishing.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞: 𝑀𝑦 𝑊𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐼𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝐿𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞: 𝑀𝑦 𝑊𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐼𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝐿𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒
December 8, 2023
Emily Carr was a gifted writer and painter who lead a challenging life trying to support herself so she could create. The first part of the book was an amazing glimpse into a particular time period as well as positive and regrettable character traits of people Ms. Carr encountered while running a boarding house. The latter part of the book focused on her attempt to raise money through breeding dogs. After reading this portion I needed to give my beloved cat a hug.
July 31, 2017
Emily Carr tells it like it was...warts and all! She writes about being a landlady and the different tenants that she had through the years. It was not always a happy time. Much of it was very dissatisfying, but this made for very interesting stories and thoughts about people. You really get to know Emily Carr as a person. She shares her very personal thoughts in this biography.
January 26, 2018
This is a charming little memoir/short stories -- I find it hard to believe all that is told here happened just as described -- reminiscent a bit of Frank O'Conner's tales I read a couple of years ago, though dealing with a different stages Carr's life. Very tight and exact writing and a nice glimpse of life in Victoria, BC now almost exactly a century ago.
July 29, 2019
Emily Carr recounts, snappy, concise tales of her clientele from her days as a landlady. It’s all very charming. The final third of the book takes a similar approach to breeding bobtails. It’s also very charming.
March 11, 2020
moving series of portraits of the artist as landlady with her often difficult tenants and her wonderful animal companions. extremely readable.
May 27, 2020
An enjoyable tale of the apartment house - Emily Carr has a style unto herself.
September 30, 2020
Emily Carr is my hero!!!!!!!
July 6, 2022
not so sure why this book was published, why i bought it or why i kept reading it even though i wasn’t sure what i was reading about buttttttt i guess it was entertaining
February 11, 2023
Some interesting anecdotes and lovely prose, but a little too depressing for my taste.
July 21, 2023
What are the odds I read this right after Paper Towns?!
January 5, 2024
What a beautiful assembly of stories exploring human nature at a place where walls are down: home. Followed by the wonderful love and joy dogs can bring to any low moment. A great Canadian read.
February 13, 2025
Pocas cosas son más mi mierda que esto.
December 5, 2025
3.5 stars
April 16, 2013
My previous awareness of this significant Canadian cultural figure was pretty minimal, and I would be interested to see what perspective reading the works for which she is better known, or more exposure to her paintings might give to this book about her time as the owner and manager of an apartment house. "Her time as" because it is not only about the experience of getting it built, the trials and tribulations of being a landlady but also about the Old English Sheepdogs she was breeding there at the time.
In many ways this is a dispiriting book and Carr does not come across as someone easy to get on with, however often she suggests she has gone along with someone else's wishes. I was especially perplexed that she had the house built according to architect plans she knew very well she disliked. However, eccentric and carping people do have a certain appeal provided they can write well which she certainly could. The general air of being put upon (which she clearly was at times) is lightened too by some joyous experiences - the communal meal which grew out of an unwelcome gift of a huge plum pudding received by one of her tenants for example - and not solely those involving her beloved dogs.
It was interesting to see how intolerant her tenants were of one another generally and oh the fuss they made if they suspected a couple were not married. We hear much about an 'entitlement culture' these days but it seems to have been alive and well in early 20th Century Victoria BC, even against the tumultuous background of WWI. Even the section about her dogs make it clear they were a business, she was able to step back and consider them with a dispassionate eye and if someone offered money she would part with any of them. She seems to have come up with some rather expensive and fraught ways to scrape a living but perhaps that is a reflection of the limited opportunities at the time for a single, respectable woman.
This was a beautifully produced volume and the short 'chapters' made it an easy read. I do not think I would have much cared for Emily Carr but she has entertained me.
In many ways this is a dispiriting book and Carr does not come across as someone easy to get on with, however often she suggests she has gone along with someone else's wishes. I was especially perplexed that she had the house built according to architect plans she knew very well she disliked. However, eccentric and carping people do have a certain appeal provided they can write well which she certainly could. The general air of being put upon (which she clearly was at times) is lightened too by some joyous experiences - the communal meal which grew out of an unwelcome gift of a huge plum pudding received by one of her tenants for example - and not solely those involving her beloved dogs.
It was interesting to see how intolerant her tenants were of one another generally and oh the fuss they made if they suspected a couple were not married. We hear much about an 'entitlement culture' these days but it seems to have been alive and well in early 20th Century Victoria BC, even against the tumultuous background of WWI. Even the section about her dogs make it clear they were a business, she was able to step back and consider them with a dispassionate eye and if someone offered money she would part with any of them. She seems to have come up with some rather expensive and fraught ways to scrape a living but perhaps that is a reflection of the limited opportunities at the time for a single, respectable woman.
This was a beautifully produced volume and the short 'chapters' made it an easy read. I do not think I would have much cared for Emily Carr but she has entertained me.
April 16, 2011
An interesting look at a dark period in the life of Emily Carr. In 1913, on her return to Victoria from Vancouver where she had been teaching art, she builds a house on land, inherited from her father. Her intent was to rent out the lower portion of the house and pursue her art in an upstairs studio. Before her house is finished the poor economy intervenes and Emily is forced to take in more renters than she had intended and to give up a portion of her own quarters. She becomes a slave to the house and her disappointing experiences with her renters far outweigh any positive encounters. The work of maintaining the establishment and catering to her renters takes time away from her art and her deepening disillusionment and depression take away her motivation.
Emily describes several incidents where tenants hit her, and many where her belongings and her premises were damaged. If what she claims is true, it makes it easy to understand why our laws have changed to protect the landlord as opposed to the renter.
Her dog stories display her strong love for her pets although this is tempered by a strong sense of practicality and she makes decisions for her pets based on their welfare as opposed to her love and desire to keep them with her.
Emily describes several incidents where tenants hit her, and many where her belongings and her premises were damaged. If what she claims is true, it makes it easy to understand why our laws have changed to protect the landlord as opposed to the renter.
Her dog stories display her strong love for her pets although this is tempered by a strong sense of practicality and she makes decisions for her pets based on their welfare as opposed to her love and desire to keep them with her.
August 9, 2016
Emily Carr seems to have liked animals much more than people, and this book is about how horrible people are and how wonderful dogs are. I first bought this book years ago because I enjoyed reading Klee Wyck for a class, and I probably would have liked this more had I read it back then. But I lean more toward compassion and understanding than I used to, so it was difficult to enjoy this.
However, her style of writing can be quite refreshing, and there were a couple of memorable passages:
"Poetical extravagance over 'pearly dew and daybreak' does not ring true when that most infernal of inventions, the alarm clock, wrenches you from sleep, rips a startled heart from your middle and tosses it on to an angry tongue, to make ugly splutterings not complimentary to the new morning; down upon you spills cold shiveriness -- a new day's responsibilities have come."
"People in the house moved quietly. Human voices were tuned so low that the voices in inanimate things -- shutting of doors, clicks of light switches, crackling of fires -- swelled to importance. Clocks ticked off the solemn moments as loudly as their works would let them."
However, her style of writing can be quite refreshing, and there were a couple of memorable passages:
"Poetical extravagance over 'pearly dew and daybreak' does not ring true when that most infernal of inventions, the alarm clock, wrenches you from sleep, rips a startled heart from your middle and tosses it on to an angry tongue, to make ugly splutterings not complimentary to the new morning; down upon you spills cold shiveriness -- a new day's responsibilities have come."
"People in the house moved quietly. Human voices were tuned so low that the voices in inanimate things -- shutting of doors, clicks of light switches, crackling of fires -- swelled to importance. Clocks ticked off the solemn moments as loudly as their works would let them."
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