Alf Silver's novel
A Place Out of Time, an inter-generational epic set in the first
province to join Confederation after 1867, should come with a disclaimer,
a consumer warning. Be aware that, at 560 pages, in a minuscule font,
it is a groaner, in more ways than one (heft and length). But, if you
love Manitoba, or Canadian history in general, you will want to accept
the challenge, to shoulder the weight and plow into the story anyway.
Read it the way you first read a holy book--a certain quota of pages
per day for a certain allotted time. Your faith will be rewarded.
The first reward
in A Place Out of Time is the setting itself--the rivers, the
riverbanks, the fields, forests, forts, and settlements around the Forks,
in that turbulent pivotal decade, the1860s. The second pleasure is the
plot, the parallel stories told from two very different perspectives.
The values and goals of the old settler families are presented through
the eyes of young Hugh John Sutherland and his family, the Point Douglas
Sutherlands. John Christian Schultz and his wife Agnes Campbell Farquharson
Schultz represent the greedy skewed dreams of the Ontario Canadian carpetbaggers
with dollar signs spinning where eyeballs should be. Around these two
camps cluster the other stakeholders--the garrisoned traders inside
the Hudson's Bay Company fort, the French-speaking Roman Catholic Metis
community with a new young leader, and the Anglican First Nations of
Chief Peguis' people at St. Peter's. American Irish Catholics with Fenian
leanings wanting to attack Britain or to annex territory. The Portage
la Prairie contingent ready to march. Surveyors and politicians sent
by Ottawa before the turnover, the troops, and the train change the
Northwest forever. Just trying to document all the factions makes it
obvious why the book has to be so big. Silver weaves the conflict between
the dreams of these groups, coloured with unexpected plot twists which
evoke emotion--hope, anger, grief, acceptance--into a heavy blanket
of a novel that still manages to surprise readers with previously undiscovered
details about a beloved familiar place.
Like the setting,
plot, and points of view, the characters in this novel are interesting
and appealing. The Sutherland family values are articulated by the patriarch,
remembering his life in Scotland and fighting in the Napoleonic War.
Defying those who think "that glory means marching behind a regimental
band in a victory parade," Old Man Sutherland expounds that "the glory
was in seeing the field outside your front door waving with golden barley
where once there'd been nothing but prairie twitch-grass and bramble,
in seeing your sweat-soaked, beautiful wife holding the red and wrinkled
baby to her breast, in binding the last patch of roof-thatch onto your
own house you'd built with your own hands." [p.228] The Schultz family's
outsider status, combined with their sense of cultural superiority,
and the dangerous connections they still have to Toronto money and Ottawa
power, bode ill for other communities.
Silver's portrayal
of Red River, implying that since the the early days of the settlement,
the many facets of community at the confluence had lived together in
mutual respect and support, is perhaps idealized. [See p. 353] The suggestion
that racist attitudes, dismissive towards First Nations, Metis, French,
and Catholic, arrived with the Ontario "prospectors" looking for capitalist
gold is also suspicious. We in the Canadian West would like to believe
that, but, human nature being what it is, it seems somewhat doubtful
to me. It could also be dangerous for it allows us to maintain that
victim position, believing that we were doing all right and would be
successful without external capital, if only we had been left alone.
Perhaps this is another of those myths of identity which allow us to
deflect blame and evade responsibility. Well, I'm meandering here, like
the Assiniboine before it forks into the Red, but the point is that
A Place Out of Time invites argument and speculation, engagement
with the larger themes through our connection or rejection of the fictionalized
characters and their dreams. What more can we ask of our literature?