Thoughts on Some Works of Canadian Literature

A comparison of Canadian wolf-stories

Both Ernest Thompson Seton and Farley Mowat wrote within a trend of literary environmentalism which stressed the relationship between man and beast and exalted the environment as a place of harmony and morality. Thus their respective works, “Lobo King of the Currumpaw” and Never Cry Wolf, share these elements, as well as the general purpose of advocating justice for animals. “They surely have their rights” (12), says Seton in his “Note to the Reader,” similarly Mowat in his “Preface” states that the wolf is a “fellow creature which has at least an equal right to life” as humans.

To reinforce the notion that animals are akin to humans and therefore deserve the same rights, both writers personify their wolves. Lobo is first referred to as a “king” (15). His story is laid out like that of an outlaw of the Old West - “well-known to the cowboys” (17), wreaking havoc throughout the land with his “remarkable pack” (15) and dodging all who go after his “royal scalp” (23). He is intelligent enough to outsmart all but one man; the story progresses as a battle of wits between Lobo and the narrator as he tries to kill the wolf. At the end of the story, as a “lion shorn of his strength, an eagle robbed of his freedom or a dove bereft of his mate” (43), Lobo is said to die “of a broken heart” (43) Interestingly, while these similes compare the wolf to various other animals, the sentiments expressed therein – hopelessness, apathy, love, and despair – are human emotions. Thus Seton implies that these qualities, conventionally considered exclusively human, are inherent across the animal kingdom.

Mowat also emphasizes the humanness of the wolves he studies. In “Good Old Uncle Albert,” he describes the “individual personalities” of the wolves: the father wolf, “conscientious…thoughtful…and affectionate,” reminds him of a man he once worked for; the mother is described as nurturing, despite being “devilish.” The pups play familiar games such as tag. There is one essential factor, however, in the way Mowat describes George, Angelina, Albert and the pups that is lacking in Seton’s narrative – he actually describes them as better. George is the “idealized image” of a father that might appear in human stories “but whose real prototype has seldom paced the earth upon two legs;” Angelina is “the epitome of motherhood” and, “unlike dogs, who have adopted many of the habits of their human owners,” faithful to her mate, as is her nature. Thus, Mowat’s rendition of the wild is much more exalting than Seton’s. Seton conveys that wolves are as intelligent, heroic, and unique as humans, but not necessarily better.

Therefore, although the motivation of both works is the advocacy of animal rights, the theme of “Lobo” is the kinship between man and wolf, while the central concept of Never Cry Wolf, realized at the very end of the novel, is the “alien role” of humans who have exiled themselves from a world naturally more peaceful and ethical than their own.


Romance and Romanticism in Anne of Green Gables

Romance and Romanticism are motifs which run through L.M. Montgomery’s beloved tale Anne of Green Gables. Countless times, the protagonist herself brings up romance, often praising or denouncing a thing for how romantic (or unromantic) it is. Thus, in understanding Anne of Green Gables, one must explore the role played by these motifs within the novel.

Romanticism provides an encompassing tone and prospect for the novel. The glorification of nature, a defining aspect of Romanticism, is evident in the novel in the many positive descriptions of nature given by both the narrator and the protagonist. Anne herself is particularly depicted as having a very close connection to nature: she names and speaks to the tree outside her window, ponders the feelings of geraniums, and has a deep appreciation for the surrounding environment. In general, Romanticism honoured the child. The movement grew, in part, in reaction to rationalism, and therefore the child, being uncorrupted by the reason of adults, was seen as innocent and pure (Cooper). Above all, the Romantic movement had a preoccupation with a simpler past, “an idyllic time” (Cooper) – and this too is a component of Anne of Green Gables. Written in the early 1900s but placed in a setting some fifty years prior, the novel has always had the nostalgic quality that has greatly influenced its popularity (Fiamengo).

The romance that Anne exalts draws its primary inspiration from the Arthurian legends (Fiamengo). These medieval stories speak of heroes and quests, passionate loyalty, and perhaps above all, self-sacrifice and the trials that love could endure (Fiamengo). Anne’s infatuation with this melodramatic genre, however, leads her to insensible worries and continuous trouble: she detests her name and yearns for a more extravagant title such as “the Lady Cordelia Fitzgerald” (64); she dyes her hair (with disastrous results) in hopes of acquiring “beautiful raven black” (201) locks and later laments that she should lose her hair in such a non-noble fashion. As these events show, romance, in the medieval sense of the word, though “probably easy enough in towered Camelot hundreds of years ago” (211), was unrealistic in a place like Avonlea. Realizing this, Anne chooses to renounce romance.

Though there is no doubt that Anne does greatly relinquish her desire for romance, Montgomery returns to the motif at the end of the novel when Anne chooses to sacrifice her intended plans of going to Redmond in order to save Green Gables and keep Marilla company. In this act, we see the loyalty, love and noble self-sacrifice which are of utmost value in medieval romances (Fiamengo). Thus Montgomery conveys the possibility of romance in the real world, and implies, further, that Anne’s romantic tendencies have not diminished – merely ripened.


Tom Wilson and Brian the Still-Hunter

In her introduction to Roughing It in the Bush, Susanna Moodie explains that the aim of her book is to describe “what the Backwoods of Canada are…to the refined and accomplished gentleman” (5). The various sketches she presents throughout of characters such as Tom Wilson and Brian the Still-Hunter conform to this purpose, offering an unappealing portrayal of a land that is unfit for the gentry.

In “Tom Wilson’s Emigration,” the eccentric Mr. Wilson tells Mr. Moodie that he believed their “qualifications” for prospering in Canada were “pretty equal” (66). This invites readers to consider the possible similarities between the two, and whether or not, in fact, Mr. Moodie isn’t quite as “helpless [and] whimsical” (64) as Mr. Wilson. The author explains that Mr. Wilson comes from an “old but impoverished” (1) family which, despite its financial circumstances, still “held a certain rank and standing” (59) – this is identical to the background of any gentlemen who chose to immigrate to Canada, as outlined in the Introduction. He is portrayed as “dressed with…neatness and care” (61), having a “slight, elegant” (59) figure, and often seen bowing to “pretty girls” (59) or going hunting “with a brown spaniel dodging at his heels” (59). At the same time, he is excessively distracted and impractical. Therefore Wilson is both the portrait of an average Englishman and a device of humour. Thus, while leading her readers to laugh at Wilson and his hopeless “scheme” (66) to immigrate, Susanna Moodie implies that Mr. Moodie will be just as unsuccessful in the New World, being from precisely the same sort of background. She uses Wilson’s speech in “Tom Wilson’s Emigration” to both highlight her feelings of apprehension and foreshadow imminent failure: “’Gentlemen can’t work like labourers…,” says Mr. Wilson to the Moodies, “you will find that out” (66).

“Brian the Still-Hunter” further conveys the futility of gentlemen immigrating to Canada by presenting a disenchanting portrait of a gentleman immersed in the Canadian wilderness. Brian describes himself as “respectably born and educated” (187). Traces of his background are evident through the chapter: he generously provides milk for the baby, shows an interest in art, runs an errand for Mrs. Moodie, and so on. However, it is very clear that twenty years in Canada has taken its toll on him. Layton, who gives Brian’s history, relates that, over time, Brian became a drunk; he says “when the liquor was in, and the wit was out, [Brian became] as savage and as quarrelsome as a bear” (183). This analogy associates wilderness, as embodied by the bear, with lack of “wit” or reason. After three suicide attempts, Brian gives up drinking and chooses to isolate himself in the forest instead – but as he himself states, hunting is merely a replacement to supply “the stimulant which [he] lost when [he] renounced the cursed whiskey bottle” (188). He makes a fourth attempt at suicide – this time succeeding – proving that the Canadian wilderness is no more a solution than drinking is for a gentleman.

The sketches of Tom Wilson and Brian the Still-Hunter both attest to Susanna Moodie’s ultimate conclusion regarding the backwoods of Canada: “To the poor industrious working man, it provides many advantageous; to the poor gentleman, none!” (538).


Satire in Leacock's Sunshine Sketches

Stephen Leacock’s novel, Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town, mocks small-town life as represented in the fictional town of Mariposa. Leacock exposes the townspeople as petty, hypocritical, and prone to folly. At the same time, however, he leads readers to identify with the characters. Thus his satire is of a gentle sort. While it ridicules the subject of Mariposa, it also sympathizes with it – and ultimately provides a complex, derisive yet nostalgic view of small-town living.

An excellent example of the complex, satiric yet endearing, viewpoint Leacock takes in his narrative is provided through the character of the Rev. Dean Drone. Although a reverend, Drone is described as being just as self-important as the rest of the Mariposans: in order to impress and appear studious, he pretends to read and understand Greek, but as the narrator says, “when Dean Drone said that he simply couldn’t translate it,…he was perfectly sincere” (69). He has a “liking for machinery” (71) (more enthusiastic, perhaps, than his liking for Christianity, as the fact that his best sermon was one on airplanes might indicate), and makes “kites and boats and clockwork steamboats for [children]” (70) – despite never actually letting the children themselves play with the toys. Thus, Dean Drone is initially depicted as a vain and at least partially dishonest (to others and to himself) person. But from the introduction of his aim of twenty-five years to “kindle a Brighter Beacon” (75), Leacock begins to describe Drone from within the character himself, referring to his dreams, worries, and hurts. When someone refers to Drone as a “mugwump” (81), Leacock details the Reverend’s ensuing anxiety, which is both laughable in its portrayal of a cleric looking up “mugwump” in the encyclopedia, and extremely pitiful. Thus, while Dean Drone is portrayed satirically as a man of many faults, Leacock also provides an inside look at the thoughts and feelings of the reverend, thus allowing the readers to see him not merely as a subject of laughter, but as uniquely human.

The narrative voice with which Leacock writes greatly aids him in establishing his dualistic viewpoint which sees characters both from within and without. As he is detailing the events of the story, the narrator is merely a spectator, seeing each character as the outside world would – that is, as objects of ridicule, ripe with folly. However, the narrator himself appears to be just as foolish as the Mariposans. He often speaks with the same pride in Mariposa and their petty lifestyle as the other citizens; for instance, in the first chapter, he defends the Mariposan opinion that the town, with its “dentists and lawyers…ready to work at any minute” (3) and its four (at the most) “sausage machine” (3) workers, is a “perfect hive of activity” (3). Thus, he is an Mariposan insider as well.

Inasmuch as this is true, Leacock also allows his narrator to be a point of satire. He is as naïve, contradictory, and trivial as the inhabitants of Mariposa. In the self-deprecation of the narrator, as well as the intimate involvement of the reader in the details of the characters’ lives, Leacock assuages the hostility of his satire.


Sources

Cooper, Susan. “Children’s Literature: History of the Child.” ENG2110: Children's Literature. University of Ottawa, Ontario, CA. 30 Jan 2010.

Fiamengo, Janice. Class Lectures on Anne of Green Gables. ENG2400B: Canadian Literature. University of Ottawa, Ontario, CA. 2 Nov 2010-9 Nov 2010.

Leacock, Stephen. Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town. Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 2010.

Montgomery, L.M. Anne of Green Gables & Anne of Avonlea. Hertfordshire: Wordsworth Editions Limited, 2008.

Moodie, Susanna. Roughing It in the Bush. Toronto: McClelland and Steward, 2007.

Moway, Farley. Never Cry Wolf. Toronto: McClelland and Stewart, 1973. eBook.

Seton, Ernest Thompson. Wild Animals I Have Known. New York: Dover Publications, Inc. 7- 44.