North American boomers
will probably remember Gale Zoë Garnett for her 1964 musical hit
"We'll Sing in the Sunshine." They may also be familiar with her acting
because her credits include Bonanza, Tribute and My Big Fat
Greek Wedding. Torontonians may recall the articles she wrote for
that city's newspapers over several decades. They may be less surprised
than others when they discover that she has written several novels,
such as Transient Dancing, Visible Amazement and this one.
Skeptics who dismiss
her as a Sixties trivia item may be surprised to learn that Savage Adoration
is published by Exile Editions, an Ontario literary press that has also
brought out works by well-known international poets and novelists. This
makes her subject to the same critical scrutiny that acclaimed authors
must endure.
The plot revolves
around the efforts of a rural British veterinarian named Ellissa Major
to find her father's missing will. The deceased, Johnny Major (né
Giovanni Paolo Maggiore), founded a chain of restaurant/club casinos.
She is opposed by his estranged wife, Mareike DeLyn, an aging ex-film
starlet, her anorexic artist daughter Petra and Petra's obese twin sister
Floris.
Since the story
centres on a wealthy dead patriarch with a colourful family life and
is set in glamorous New York, London and Montreal, it can be classified
as a "sprawling epic." Such books are sometimes dismissed as escapist
or derided as "soap opera."
This novel includes
some dodgy dialogue. When Ellissa meets Petra, wearing a similar outfit,
latter says, "we look like clothing sisters again" (118). Garnett may
have been trying to showcase her character's banality, but her statement
recalls the cutesy dialogue of Dondi, the title character in a disastrous
1961 film comedy about an Italian war orphan. Critics may not accept
a kind of cuteness from an artist that they would not tolerate in a
waif.
The author displays
her skill by pointing out her tale's ethnic undercurrents in a sharp,
"politically incorrect" manner. Ellissa refers to Italian sentimentality
as "the Full Sloppy Woppy" (52). This is the type of expression a British
person might use, but can't, unless she is of Italian descent. Garnett's
use of that phrase is her way of assuming that character's persona.
Garnett displays
real sensitivity in her depiction of John Major's Italian, or more precisely,
Sicilian, milieu. She treats Sicily as a distinct part of Italy, not
merely as its underdeveloped island, examining local customs respectfully
and thoroughly. Some characters use regional dialect, which is set off
in italics in the text.
Cultural assimilation
is viewed as a necessity that can be amusing. Giovanni Maggiore's name
change helped him succeed--with the same name as a former British prime
minister.
The plot may be
a complete fantasy, but the protagonist is a reflection of her character,
on some level. She meets Nicholson Brown, a politically ambitious Virginia
doctor and ex-lover. The reunion prompts her to recall their affair,
which ended after she refused his marriage proposal because it would
compromise her independence. Ellissa's attitude echoes the spirit of
Garnett's opus, "We'll Sing in the Sunshine," a song about a free-spirited
woman who eschews long-term commitments.
Since Ellissa travels
in New York after 9/11, that catastrophe is dealt with in various ways.
Her gay half-brother Davy complains that his London-born boyfriend,
Tariq, was profiled by airport authorities. He imitates him, combining
theatrical terrorist and homosexual images--"I am going to stab and
shoot and kill you, Madam, but first let me do something about these
curtains" (24). New York reality is revealed when she notes that John
F. Kennedy Airport security doubly sealed her Swiss Army knife and that
Ground Zero "reeked of burnt hair" (123).
Garnett shares
Ellissa's nonchalant sexual attitudes. The aforementioned "hook-up"
with Nicholson Brown occurred after he informed her that he had a wife
and a young daughter. Ellissa's nonchalance can be viewed as the defence
mechanism of a child who grew up in a dysfunctional family. She once
caught her father in a compromising situation with Mareike. That past
trauma is now dismissed with a salty observation. Readers learn about
character development, even as they laugh at the bawdy aside.
Savage Attraction
can be termed a "compelling" novel, but it does not mean that you have
to read it in order to understand what Canadian literature was like
in this decade. This work is however crafted in a manner that draws
readers in and maintains their interest.