Newfoundland Quotes

“He mixed his sacred medicines and smudged. Afterward, he sat there for a moment to allow the smoke to come into his body and spirit. This one act connected him, even if briefly, to himself and to what he believed was the spirit world. In that space he offered thanks to those who had come before him and asked for help in this world, not just for himself but for anyone who might be struggling this morning.”
― Mike Martin, Too Close For Comfort

“In Wyoming they name girls Skye. In Newfoundland it's Wavey.”
― Annie Proulx, The Shipping News

“We children were terrified by the story. We still listened to the old believers, they who were never dismissive, they who were never afriad to entertain the shadow”
― Tom Dawe, Spirited Away: Fairy stories of old Newfoundland

“When we were children, everything scared us. The harmless dragonfly, for example, was called 'the devil's darning needle.' The creature hovered all around us int he summertime, ready to sew up the ears and lips of disobedient children. To us, even a common snipe, owl, or bittern calling from the marsh, might be a voice from the other side.”
― Tom Dawe, Spirited Away: Fairy stories of old Newfoundland

“This is why people are chasing their aces all over the poorest bays. Not because they've some genuine belief that they will catch the card. They can barely catch a break at all. A century of impoverishment and industry collapse, pillaging and recrimination, has taught them not to hope for much but a bit of fun when the cards are cut.”
― Megan Gail Coles, Small Game Hunting at the Local Coward Gun Club

“Let us turn now to a study of a small Newfoundland fishing village. Fishing is, in England at any rate – more hazardous even than mining. Cat Harbour, a community in Newfoundland, is very complex. Its social relationships occur in terms of a densely elaborate series of interrelated conceptual universes one important consequence of which is that virtually all permanent members of the community are kin, ‘cunny kin’, or economic associates of all other of the 285 permanent members.

The primary activity of the community is cod fishing. Salmon, lobster, and squid provide additional sources of revenue. Woodcutting is necessary in off-seasons. Domestic gardening, and stints in lumber camps when money is needed, are the two other profitable activities. The community's religion is reactionary. Women assume the main roles in the operation though not the government of the churches in the town. A complicated system of ‘jinking’ – curses, magic, and witchcraft – governs and modulates social relationships.

Successful cod fishing in the area depends upon highly developed skills of navigation, knowledge of fish movements, and familiarity with local nautical conditions. Lore is passed down by word of mouth, and literacy among older fishermen is not universal by any means. ‘Stranger’ males cannot easily assume dominant positions in the fishing systems and may only hire on for salary or percentage. Because women in the community are not paid for their labour, there has been a pattern of female migration out of the area. Significantly, two thirds of the wives in the community are from outside the area. This has a predictable effect on the community's concept of ‘the feminine’. An elaborate anti-female symbolism is woven into the fabric of male communal life, e.g. strong boats are male and older leaky ones are female.

Women ‘are regarded as polluting “on the water” and the more traditional men would not consider going out if a woman had set foot in the boat that day – they are “jinker” (i.e., a jinx), even unwittingly'. (It is not only relatively unsophisticated workers such as those fishermen who insist on sexual purity. The very skilled technicians drilling for natural gas in the North Sea affirm the same taboo: women are not permitted on their drilling platform rigs.)

It would be, however, a rare Cat Harbour woman who would consider such an act, for they are aware of their structural position in the outport society and the cognition surrounding their sex….Cat Harbour is a male-dominated society….Only men can normally inherit property, or smoke or drink, and the increasingly frequent breach of this by women is the source of much gossip (and not a negligible amount of conflict and resentment). Men are seated first at meals and eat together – women and children eating afterwards. Men are given the choicest and largest portions, and sit at the same table with a ‘stranger’ or guest.

Women work extremely demanding and long hours, ‘especially during the fishing season, for not only do they have to fix up to 5 to 6 meals each day for the fishermen, but do all their household chores, mind the children and help “put away fish”. They seldom have time to visit extensively, usually only a few minutes to and from the shop or Post Office….Men on the other hand, spend each evening arguing, gossiping, and “telling cuffers”, in the shop, and have numerous “blows” (i.e., breaks) during the day.’

Pre-adolescents are separated on sexual lines. Boys play exclusively male games and identify strongly with fathers or older brothers. Girls perform light women's work, though Faris indicates '. . . often openly aspire to be male and do male things. By this time they can clearly see the privileged position of the Cat Harbour male….’. Girls are advised not to marry a fisherman, and are encouraged to leave the community if they wish to avoid a hard life. Boys are told it is better to leave Cat Harbour than become fishermen....”
― Lionel Tiger, Men in Groups

“Nicole Parsons graduated with honors from Memorial University of Newfoundland with a Bachelor of Commerce. She was formerly a member of the Training & Qualifications Committee with the Canadian Association of Petroleum Producers (CAPP), and she is currently the Board Director at Choices for Youth, an organization with nonprofit status which addresses the needs of at-risk youth in the region. She enjoys family time and travels with her spouse, Francois.”
― Nicole Parsons Newfoundland

“Jamie and Meg stopped to look at the rocky cliffs on their right.

“I never saw so much rock,” remarked Jamie.

Jack explained. “Uncle Tom says that when God finished making the world He had a lot of rocks left over, so He dumped them on Newfoundland. And Uncle Tom thinks this is where He dumped most of them.”
― George Loh, Sailor's Choice

“You’re from Newfoundland, right?”
I nodded and let the pride I’ve always felt for my home province push away the unease that seemed to be my daily companion here. “Yeah, have you been there?”
“No, but I’ve been to Ireland a bunch of times and I’ve heard it’s very similar.”
“Parts of it are. Some areas are more French than Irish, though.” [I] thought of [my] father’s slight French accent and smiled, missing him. “My coast has more of the French but get me tipsy and the Irish comes out.” I grinned up at him.
His eyebrows shot up. “Well then, is that a challenge?”
I laughed and didn’t bother covering it up. We’d moved from the open quad to the forest and had the cover of trees to stop our voices from carrying. “Screw it,” I said, throwing caution to the wind. I needed to relax and have fun. “Let’s call out the Irish.”
― J.J. King, New Moon

“In Newfoundland, we allow people to have their idiosyncrasies. It just makes us more interesting.”
― Helen C. Escott, Operation Betrayed

“The map of St. John’s stood in great juxtaposition to other capital cities. Where most metropolitan areas used east to west and north to south in an organized grid pattern, the map of St. John’s looked like an angry child designed it with a crayon, making it impossible to get around at times.”
― Helen C. Escott, Operation Betrayed

“Say what you want about organized religion, but man, they make cool windows.”
― Alan Doyle