3 Stars
In the
1930s, Hélène Giroux arrives on the French Shore in Nova Scotia. She becomes the pianist and choirmaster of
the church in St. Homais. Her
integration into the life of the village is interspersed with flashbacks to her
past: her family’s piano factory in
France pre-WWI, the effects of the Great War on her and her family, her
immigration to Canada, and her involvement with Nathan Homewood who finds and
sells valuable artifacts. From the
beginning it is clear that Hélène has a dark secret in her past, a secret which
she ends up having to confront in a very public way.
I love
novels with strong female characters.
And Hélène is certainly resilient and resourceful and stoic. Unfortunately, I sometimes found her just too
adept to be believable. She is skilled
at playing, tuning, and building pianos, so I was impressed. But then she is able to effortlessly master
commanding a dog sled team, so much so that she is told by a guide that “’You
are good with the dogs. They like and
respect you. I’ve seen that only once
before.’” Her being hired as part of a
Canadian entourage which is touring Europe to promote Canada to potential
immigrants seems incredible since she hasn’t ever been to Canada. Surely Canada had some accomplished pianists
who could have represented their country abroad!
The novel
starts slowly. It is only about half way
through that I became more engaged. What
bothered me, however, is that information is constantly being withheld. That is a cheap way to build suspense. For example, there is a re-trial because of
some new evidence, but the reader is not given any specifics of the case or
that evidence. This vagueness becomes
annoying, and the support the defendant receives from so many people when they
know virtually nothing about the case stretches credulity.
It takes a
while to become accustomed to the style. To say the prose is straightforward and
restrained would almost be an understatement.
Anyone reading the book aloud would read it in a monotone. People speak as though some “thing that was
in the room right now might break.” The
style is appropriate to the muted emotions that pervade. The only person who seems to possess passion
is the assistant Crown attorney when she is cross-examining the defendant.
The book is
not overly long, yet there are events which serve little purpose. The assistant Crown attorney pushes the judge
to let her introduce the new evidence in the case, but then she insists on
asking questions and bringing in her first expert witness – none of this
questioning advances her case in the least.
Likewise, the arrival of Hélène’s daughter seems irrelevant. She arrives and then shortly afterwards
returns to London. Claire spends only
one night at her mothers, and there are no mother-daughter conversations that
address the serious issues faced by Hélène.
Characters appear and then disappear; this is the case with Lady
Ashley. And what is the point of insisting
on Hélène’s going to confession when she insists that she does not believe in
the sacrament? The priest advocates
hypocrisy?
This is a quick and easy read.
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