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The Flying Canoe
On New Year’s eve, 1847, eleven-year-old Baptiste finds himself far from his friends and family and his home in La Beauce. He has come to the woods of the Ottawa Valley to live and work among “the finest lumberjacks in Canada.” As the New Year approaches, Baptiste and the lumberjacks grow more and more homesick. Resolved to see their families again before the stroke of midnight, the crew board a magical canoe that lifts them into the air, across villages, and closer to home.
This beautiful retelling of the Quebecois folktale reunites Roch Carrier with illustrator Sheldon Cohen and translator Sheila Fischman. (The Hockey Sweater, The Basketball Player, The Longest Home Run), and brings this beloved story to life.
This beautiful retelling of the Quebecois folktale reunites Roch Carrier with illustrator Sheldon Cohen and translator Sheila Fischman. (The Hockey Sweater, The Basketball Player, The Longest Home Run), and brings this beloved story to life.
24 pages, Hardcover
First published November 23, 2004
49 people want to read
About the author
Roch Carrier
87 books13 followersRoch Carrier, OC is a Canadian novelist, playwright and author of "contes" (a very brief form of the short story). He is among the best known Quebec writers in English Canada.
From 1994 to 1997, he served as head of the Canada Council. In 1998, he ran as an electoral candidate for the Quebec Liberal Party under Jean Charest, in the riding of Crémazie. He was defeated by 309 votes.
In 1991, he was made an Officer of the Order of Canada. From 1999 to 2004, Carrier was National Librarian of Canada.
A quote from "Le chandail de hockey" ("The Hockey Sweater"), one of Carrier's contes, is reprinted on the back of the Canadian five-dollar bill.
From 1994 to 1997, he served as head of the Canada Council. In 1998, he ran as an electoral candidate for the Quebec Liberal Party under Jean Charest, in the riding of Crémazie. He was defeated by 309 votes.
In 1991, he was made an Officer of the Order of Canada. From 1999 to 2004, Carrier was National Librarian of Canada.
A quote from "Le chandail de hockey" ("The Hockey Sweater"), one of Carrier's contes, is reprinted on the back of the Canadian five-dollar bill.
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Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews
November 17, 2017
The legend of a flying canoe, of a group of voyageurs who make a pact with the Devil in order to visit their loved ones for New Years' Eve celebrations, is one of the most well-known folktales of French Canada. According to Roch Carrier (and as stated in his author's note), the legend has its roots in European folktales involving flying vessels, which were then combined with First Nations tales of magical, flying canoes. However, according to a Wikipedia article I read on the the legend of La Chasse-Galerie (the French term for The Flying Canoe), there might actually be a specific French folktale of a hunter condemned to fly through the air, followed by barking dogs, howling wolves etc. as punishment for daring to hunt on the Sabbath. This tale (which is also somewhat reminiscent of the Germanic/Norse legends of The Wild Hunt) was supposedly later combined with stories of pacts made with the Devil and First Nations legends featuring magical flying enchanted canoes.
My friend Abigail has pointed out that many French fairy and folk tales feature the Devil as a major antagonist, often as an entity to be outsmarted, but sometimes actual pacts are made with the Devil himself. Stories and folktales depicting pacts made with the Devil are, of course, not a uniquely French phenomenon, nor are they only encountered in folk tales. They feature prominently in the legends surrounding Dr. Faustus, and while the original Dr. Faustus tales might be considered folk literature, Christopher Marlowe's Dr. Faustus and Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's Faust can by no means be called folk literature, or simple/basic chap books.
A common thread encountered in most tales involving pacts with the Devil is the description of stringent rules, which, although they might originally appear easy to follow, usually end up being broken, thus either condemning the unfortunate victims to Hell, or at least having them learn an often painful lesson. In most of the traditional versions of La Chasse-Galerie the rules stipulate that the Devil will make the canoe fly, but in order to safeguard their immortal souls, the voyageurs may neither fly near a church steeple nor are they permitted to curse or take the Lord's name in vain. The voyageurs gladly agree to these conditions, and on the way to the New Years' Eve festivities they desire to attend, are very prudent about following all of the imposed rules. However, they usually consume copious amounts of alcohol at the celebration, and on their way back, they then progressively come closer and closer to breaking the rules, until finally, they curse, take the name of God in vain, fly too close to a church or engage in some other activity that renders their pact with the Devil null and void. In some of these tales, all of the men are taken by the Devil, in other versions, one individual survives, usually becoming either a monk or a religious hermit (his companions though, are generally condemned and forfeit their souls to the Devil).
When one considers the morals/concepts this folktale promotes (especially in its more traditional renderings) the most obvious lesson presented is no doubt that one should not make pacts with the Devil, that bewitched and magical canoes are dangerous (are too good to be true) and that the Devil is a real, terrifying and powerful force; of course, there is also the admonition against public drunkeness and blasphemy. More troubling though (at least in my humble opinion) is the attitude that a magical, flying canoe (which is originally a First Nations legend) must somehow and automatically be the work of the Devil. Similarly to how the old Germanic/Norse concept of the Wild Hunt (and with it, the old pagan gods of Northern Europe) were turned into an instrument of the Devil during the Christianisation of Europe, First Nations legends of flying canoes seem to have suffered a rather similarly sad fate. And while this does in no way make me despise the French Canadian folktales of La Chasse-Galerie, it does give one cause to think. And actually, I for one tend to believe that many if not most folk and fairy tales involving the Devil or devilish entities probably rather often feature pre-Christian culture and lore being transformed into something sinister (likely because the missionaries, priests etc. were not able to completely and entirely remove these from the culture and thought of the native populations).
For me, Roch Carrier's The Flying Canoe is in all ways a novel and refreshing retelling of the basic legend, mainly because of the fact that much of the negativity encountered in many of the more traditional versions of La Chasse-Galerie has been changed, even removed. Tom Caribou's canoe is magical, but there is never any mention of an actual pact made with the Devil (or any type of demonic presence). In fact, it is for all intents and purposes quite left open as to who or what causes the canoe to fly. Is the canoe simply magical, is it guided by the Devil (or some other uncanny presence), or could it even be a miracle of God? Yes, the canoe is at one time called the Devil's Canoe, but some of the voyageurs firmly believe that it is actually a divine miracle. In their recent work on Canadian picture books, Picturing Canada: A History of Canadian Children's Illustrated Books and Publishing, Gail Edwards and Judith Saltman state that Carrier claims that he had a lot of trouble reinterpreting the flying canoe legend for a contemporary audience who generally no longer believes that the Devil is a real and terrifying threat (p. 162-163). The question (which is also never answered) about who or what makes the canoe become airborne demonstrates the difficulties certain kinds of folktales (particularly those dealing with God, demons, the Devil and pacts forged with the latter) can pose for both modern authors attempting a retelling and their audiences.
What for me is immensely (if not perhaps even most) enjoyable with regard to Carrier's retelling of the flying canoe legend is how he has managed to use certain events from the traditional chasse-galerie stories and basically turned them completely upside-down and inside-out. Many if not most French Canadians are likely well aware of the traditional story line and that one of the main rules imposed by the Devil is that the voyageurs are not to fly the canoe anywhere near a church steeple. Thus, it is vastly amusing that in Montreal, Tom Caribou deliberately guides the canoe through a small gap between the spires of Notre Dame Cathedral, thus defying both God and the Devil and certainly (at least to a point) questioning the power, if not the actual existence of both. And when the travelers encounter a fierce snowstorm, it is the thought of their families, of their loved ones that keeps the canoe safely adrift in the air, not any belief in God, or the Devil, for that matter. In many of the traditional older versions of La Chasse-Galerie, this snowstorm actually occurs on the way home, and it is often precisely that fateful event which finally makes the voyageurs break their pact with the Devil, causing them to swear, to take God's name in vain (in some versions, even just mentioning the name of God is already enough to break the pact).
There is also, of course, the question as to what happens to Baptiste's companions, after they abandon him and the canoe to go looking for a tavern in order to slake their thirst. As mentioned previously, the more traditional versions of this folktale usually have most, and sometimes all of the voyageurs being taken by the Devil (or it is at least assumed that they have been taken by the Devil). Carrier's retelling, however, never does indicate the fate of Baptiste's traveling companions. There is certainly no indication that Tom Caribou and the others have succumbed to the Devil, or that they have made or broken a pact with the Devil. Baptiste's traveling companions have, however, majorly broken their pact of friendship with Baptiste by abandoning him in the cold, by forcing him to guard the canoe while they go drinking. Carrier's retelling most definitely indicates criticism of the adult voyageurs, who would abandon a child in the cold, or force a child to wait in the cold simply so they could go to a bar or pub and enjoy themselves.
Finally, Roch Carrier's retelling of the flying canoe folktale also has a feeling of not only fantasy, but also of a certain amount of disbelief. There is almost a dream-like quality to the entire tale, and one cannot help but wonder, wether Baptiste really experienced this or wether it was just a dream or wishful thinking. I really appreciate this aspect of Roch Carrtier's The Flying Canoe, as there is enough of an element of fantasy to satisfy our love and desire for and of the magical and mysterious, while at the same time also including disbelief and modern skepticism. The latter also allows for both humour and questions, and I think it is this combination of the magical with at times humorous skepticism which allows this brilliant retelling of La Chasse-Galerie to be enjoyable for modern readers, for modern audiences, both young and old.
As for the narrative itself, I would agree with my friend Lisa's statement that The Flying Canoe is rather text-heavy for a picture book, and that the font size is certainly a bit too small for younger children just learning to read by themselves. I do tend to think that if the text is to be read aloud, the story itself is suitable for both younger and older children. However, if The Flying Canoe is to be independently read, the length of the text, combined with a sometimes rather advanced vocabulary, makes Carrier's retelling of this legend more suitable for children above the age of eight or nine.
Now as for Sheldon Cohen's illustrations, I have to admit that while I find his pictorial renderings both colourful and descriptive, it actually has taken me a while to get used to the rather overly bright, even garish colours. That being said, I do love the details and the often amusing little touches presented (like the statue of an angel seemingly waving to the voyageurs in Montreal, which though on closer scrutiny looks more like an advertising gimmick, as right below the angel there is a sign promoting a local market). On the whole, Sheldon Cohen's illustrations do very much complement Roch Carrier's narrative exceedingly well, but they did (and still do not) not immediately "wow" me, they did and do not cause immediate enjoyment (my enjoyment has come slowly, after having gotten used to the brightly garish hues).
And finally, I would definitely and without reservations recommend Roch Carrier's The Flying Canoe to anyone interested in French Canadian folktales, especially to and for those for whom some of the more traditional chasse-galerie tales might seem too negative, too fraught with images of the Devil or the satanic. Carrier has effectively retold a traditionally negative, even potentially spooky folktale, in which magic does occur, but where the Devil, the uncanny is certainly wondered at, is questioned and even potentially negated (if only to a point).
My friend Abigail has pointed out that many French fairy and folk tales feature the Devil as a major antagonist, often as an entity to be outsmarted, but sometimes actual pacts are made with the Devil himself. Stories and folktales depicting pacts made with the Devil are, of course, not a uniquely French phenomenon, nor are they only encountered in folk tales. They feature prominently in the legends surrounding Dr. Faustus, and while the original Dr. Faustus tales might be considered folk literature, Christopher Marlowe's Dr. Faustus and Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's Faust can by no means be called folk literature, or simple/basic chap books.
A common thread encountered in most tales involving pacts with the Devil is the description of stringent rules, which, although they might originally appear easy to follow, usually end up being broken, thus either condemning the unfortunate victims to Hell, or at least having them learn an often painful lesson. In most of the traditional versions of La Chasse-Galerie the rules stipulate that the Devil will make the canoe fly, but in order to safeguard their immortal souls, the voyageurs may neither fly near a church steeple nor are they permitted to curse or take the Lord's name in vain. The voyageurs gladly agree to these conditions, and on the way to the New Years' Eve festivities they desire to attend, are very prudent about following all of the imposed rules. However, they usually consume copious amounts of alcohol at the celebration, and on their way back, they then progressively come closer and closer to breaking the rules, until finally, they curse, take the name of God in vain, fly too close to a church or engage in some other activity that renders their pact with the Devil null and void. In some of these tales, all of the men are taken by the Devil, in other versions, one individual survives, usually becoming either a monk or a religious hermit (his companions though, are generally condemned and forfeit their souls to the Devil).
When one considers the morals/concepts this folktale promotes (especially in its more traditional renderings) the most obvious lesson presented is no doubt that one should not make pacts with the Devil, that bewitched and magical canoes are dangerous (are too good to be true) and that the Devil is a real, terrifying and powerful force; of course, there is also the admonition against public drunkeness and blasphemy. More troubling though (at least in my humble opinion) is the attitude that a magical, flying canoe (which is originally a First Nations legend) must somehow and automatically be the work of the Devil. Similarly to how the old Germanic/Norse concept of the Wild Hunt (and with it, the old pagan gods of Northern Europe) were turned into an instrument of the Devil during the Christianisation of Europe, First Nations legends of flying canoes seem to have suffered a rather similarly sad fate. And while this does in no way make me despise the French Canadian folktales of La Chasse-Galerie, it does give one cause to think. And actually, I for one tend to believe that many if not most folk and fairy tales involving the Devil or devilish entities probably rather often feature pre-Christian culture and lore being transformed into something sinister (likely because the missionaries, priests etc. were not able to completely and entirely remove these from the culture and thought of the native populations).
For me, Roch Carrier's The Flying Canoe is in all ways a novel and refreshing retelling of the basic legend, mainly because of the fact that much of the negativity encountered in many of the more traditional versions of La Chasse-Galerie has been changed, even removed. Tom Caribou's canoe is magical, but there is never any mention of an actual pact made with the Devil (or any type of demonic presence). In fact, it is for all intents and purposes quite left open as to who or what causes the canoe to fly. Is the canoe simply magical, is it guided by the Devil (or some other uncanny presence), or could it even be a miracle of God? Yes, the canoe is at one time called the Devil's Canoe, but some of the voyageurs firmly believe that it is actually a divine miracle. In their recent work on Canadian picture books, Picturing Canada: A History of Canadian Children's Illustrated Books and Publishing, Gail Edwards and Judith Saltman state that Carrier claims that he had a lot of trouble reinterpreting the flying canoe legend for a contemporary audience who generally no longer believes that the Devil is a real and terrifying threat (p. 162-163). The question (which is also never answered) about who or what makes the canoe become airborne demonstrates the difficulties certain kinds of folktales (particularly those dealing with God, demons, the Devil and pacts forged with the latter) can pose for both modern authors attempting a retelling and their audiences.
What for me is immensely (if not perhaps even most) enjoyable with regard to Carrier's retelling of the flying canoe legend is how he has managed to use certain events from the traditional chasse-galerie stories and basically turned them completely upside-down and inside-out. Many if not most French Canadians are likely well aware of the traditional story line and that one of the main rules imposed by the Devil is that the voyageurs are not to fly the canoe anywhere near a church steeple. Thus, it is vastly amusing that in Montreal, Tom Caribou deliberately guides the canoe through a small gap between the spires of Notre Dame Cathedral, thus defying both God and the Devil and certainly (at least to a point) questioning the power, if not the actual existence of both. And when the travelers encounter a fierce snowstorm, it is the thought of their families, of their loved ones that keeps the canoe safely adrift in the air, not any belief in God, or the Devil, for that matter. In many of the traditional older versions of La Chasse-Galerie, this snowstorm actually occurs on the way home, and it is often precisely that fateful event which finally makes the voyageurs break their pact with the Devil, causing them to swear, to take God's name in vain (in some versions, even just mentioning the name of God is already enough to break the pact).
There is also, of course, the question as to what happens to Baptiste's companions, after they abandon him and the canoe to go looking for a tavern in order to slake their thirst. As mentioned previously, the more traditional versions of this folktale usually have most, and sometimes all of the voyageurs being taken by the Devil (or it is at least assumed that they have been taken by the Devil). Carrier's retelling, however, never does indicate the fate of Baptiste's traveling companions. There is certainly no indication that Tom Caribou and the others have succumbed to the Devil, or that they have made or broken a pact with the Devil. Baptiste's traveling companions have, however, majorly broken their pact of friendship with Baptiste by abandoning him in the cold, by forcing him to guard the canoe while they go drinking. Carrier's retelling most definitely indicates criticism of the adult voyageurs, who would abandon a child in the cold, or force a child to wait in the cold simply so they could go to a bar or pub and enjoy themselves.
Finally, Roch Carrier's retelling of the flying canoe folktale also has a feeling of not only fantasy, but also of a certain amount of disbelief. There is almost a dream-like quality to the entire tale, and one cannot help but wonder, wether Baptiste really experienced this or wether it was just a dream or wishful thinking. I really appreciate this aspect of Roch Carrtier's The Flying Canoe, as there is enough of an element of fantasy to satisfy our love and desire for and of the magical and mysterious, while at the same time also including disbelief and modern skepticism. The latter also allows for both humour and questions, and I think it is this combination of the magical with at times humorous skepticism which allows this brilliant retelling of La Chasse-Galerie to be enjoyable for modern readers, for modern audiences, both young and old.
As for the narrative itself, I would agree with my friend Lisa's statement that The Flying Canoe is rather text-heavy for a picture book, and that the font size is certainly a bit too small for younger children just learning to read by themselves. I do tend to think that if the text is to be read aloud, the story itself is suitable for both younger and older children. However, if The Flying Canoe is to be independently read, the length of the text, combined with a sometimes rather advanced vocabulary, makes Carrier's retelling of this legend more suitable for children above the age of eight or nine.
Now as for Sheldon Cohen's illustrations, I have to admit that while I find his pictorial renderings both colourful and descriptive, it actually has taken me a while to get used to the rather overly bright, even garish colours. That being said, I do love the details and the often amusing little touches presented (like the statue of an angel seemingly waving to the voyageurs in Montreal, which though on closer scrutiny looks more like an advertising gimmick, as right below the angel there is a sign promoting a local market). On the whole, Sheldon Cohen's illustrations do very much complement Roch Carrier's narrative exceedingly well, but they did (and still do not) not immediately "wow" me, they did and do not cause immediate enjoyment (my enjoyment has come slowly, after having gotten used to the brightly garish hues).
And finally, I would definitely and without reservations recommend Roch Carrier's The Flying Canoe to anyone interested in French Canadian folktales, especially to and for those for whom some of the more traditional chasse-galerie tales might seem too negative, too fraught with images of the Devil or the satanic. Carrier has effectively retold a traditionally negative, even potentially spooky folktale, in which magic does occur, but where the Devil, the uncanny is certainly wondered at, is questioned and even potentially negated (if only to a point).
August 10, 2010
I love things that fly (The Summer Birds was a favorite book of mine (and my classmates) when I was a kid) so a flying canoe appealed to me. I read this French Canadian tale as one of the North American folk tales for this month’s Picture Books Club at the Children's Books group.
This story didn’t really grab me, although it was entertaining enough. I’m not sure who the intended audience is for this book though. For a picture book, there is a lot of text, very small text, and it includes some advanced words. So, I’d say 9 & up for kids to read it to themselves, younger for reading aloud. I did like the young boy’s story and the aspect of the issue of men being far from home in a cold and lonely winter. I wasn’t wild about the devil part, but I realize that’s a part of the tale that is traditional.
I didn’t much like the cover illustration, so I was pleasantly surprised by most of the included illustrations. They’re very colorful and vibrant and fun; they really hold the reader’s/listener’s attention.
A little bit of French is left in this English translation.
There is an author’s note in the back of the book detailing the history of this tale and letting the reader know that this version of the tale is his.
This story didn’t really grab me, although it was entertaining enough. I’m not sure who the intended audience is for this book though. For a picture book, there is a lot of text, very small text, and it includes some advanced words. So, I’d say 9 & up for kids to read it to themselves, younger for reading aloud. I did like the young boy’s story and the aspect of the issue of men being far from home in a cold and lonely winter. I wasn’t wild about the devil part, but I realize that’s a part of the tale that is traditional.
I didn’t much like the cover illustration, so I was pleasantly surprised by most of the included illustrations. They’re very colorful and vibrant and fun; they really hold the reader’s/listener’s attention.
A little bit of French is left in this English translation.
There is an author’s note in the back of the book detailing the history of this tale and letting the reader know that this version of the tale is his.
June 11, 2019
Based upon the Quebecois legend of La chasse-galerie, first recorded by Honoré Beauregard in 1892, The Flying Canoe is the story of a young French-Canadian boy who finds himself on a most unexpected aerial voyage one New Year's Eve. Working as an assistant in a remote lumber camp, eleven-year-old Baptiste misses him home and family, and jumps at the chance to join Tom Caribou's magical night-time flight home to the Beauce...
Sheldon Cohen's colorful pencil illustrations give Carrier's narrative extra excitement, enhancing the sense of holiday wonder. Folktale enthusiasts will thrill to this story, which combines European elements reminiscent of the Wild Hunt with indigenous First Nations traditions involving flying canoes.
Sheldon Cohen's colorful pencil illustrations give Carrier's narrative extra excitement, enhancing the sense of holiday wonder. Folktale enthusiasts will thrill to this story, which combines European elements reminiscent of the Wild Hunt with indigenous First Nations traditions involving flying canoes.
September 8, 2010
This one was a Canadian folk tale and somehow didn't hold my attention well.
May 26, 2017
Given its picture book form, I was expecting French-Canadian literary icon Roch Carrier's adaptation of the enduring folktale about a flying canoe to be more accessible to children. In Carrier's version, an eleven-year-old boy is included to accompany the lumberjacks in a canoe which will fly them home in one night to their sweethearts.
In the traditional version of the story that I am familiar with (and yes, there are many variations), voyageurs (fur traders who travel by canoe) make a deal with the devil in order to gain access to the canoe and be assured of a complete journey. In one story I know, the voyageurs promise not to speak at all for the duration or the journey; in another, they must not utter God's name or touch the steeple of any church as they fly. If they do, the devil gains their souls. In Carrier's version, there is no deal with the devil and lots of talk on this New Year's Eve flight. The boy ends up taking a solo canoe flight while the men stop to drink and associate with some ladies. Without the tension of the pact with the devil, the story lacks a certain vitality, leaving Carrier's The Flying Canoe interesting mainly for providing some information about Quebecois culture. Even then, some details seem to be a bit off. Though we're told the story comes from long ago, some of the details provided suggest more modern times. For example, as the canoe flies over the large towns along the St. Lawrence, the travelers see Montreal and Quebec brightly lit up--which is hard to imagine in a time without electricity.
In the end, neither the story nor the illustrations really work to the best effect. The story is also a bit long for the picture book genre. I'm disappointed that this doesn't add up to a good read-aloud. I'm looking forward to reading Eric Kimmel's version of the story.
In the traditional version of the story that I am familiar with (and yes, there are many variations), voyageurs (fur traders who travel by canoe) make a deal with the devil in order to gain access to the canoe and be assured of a complete journey. In one story I know, the voyageurs promise not to speak at all for the duration or the journey; in another, they must not utter God's name or touch the steeple of any church as they fly. If they do, the devil gains their souls. In Carrier's version, there is no deal with the devil and lots of talk on this New Year's Eve flight. The boy ends up taking a solo canoe flight while the men stop to drink and associate with some ladies. Without the tension of the pact with the devil, the story lacks a certain vitality, leaving Carrier's The Flying Canoe interesting mainly for providing some information about Quebecois culture. Even then, some details seem to be a bit off. Though we're told the story comes from long ago, some of the details provided suggest more modern times. For example, as the canoe flies over the large towns along the St. Lawrence, the travelers see Montreal and Quebec brightly lit up--which is hard to imagine in a time without electricity.
In the end, neither the story nor the illustrations really work to the best effect. The story is also a bit long for the picture book genre. I'm disappointed that this doesn't add up to a good read-aloud. I'm looking forward to reading Eric Kimmel's version of the story.
May 12, 2012
Fun story that is an interesting tale from Canadian folklore.
September 4, 2014
Short, I didn't mind it.
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