how stories are a journey

http://foundations.arts.ubc.ca/fedoruk/340-14th

"The Fry's Cocoa box is obviously old. About the size of a large book, it is crafted of wood and covered, for the most part, in a faded pale blue silk. The trim is velvet that had once been royal blue overlaid with gold braid and tracery. The sepia photo on the lid is an elegant head and shoulders shot of a young woman wearing a light linen blouse with a silk scarf draped across her shoulders. Her hat is a wide brimmed, heavily corsaged afternoon sun bonnet with a silk sash tied in a huge bow under her chin to hold the whole affair in place. The image is clearly from the early 1900`s and the Fry's hallmark dates from an era when people created elaborate and secure storage casks for their cocoa. This is a box meant for treasures. The clasp is broken now and the hinged lid lifts easily."

This very intimate discovery was the beginning of my hypertext story Emma's Postcards. It is primarily a very personal journey through my grandmother's youth and an exploration of the diverse relationships within her large family. The project has been a considerable delight as I uncover a trove of information from or about my grandmother. Even greater has been the surprise as I piece together a glimpse of the various personalities. As luck would have it, a couple of my relatives were very intriguing people, whose pioneer exploits are quite remarkable, so I thought that this information ought to be shared with my contemporary siblings and cousins. Whether these stroies have any broader resonance is a question I will continue to pursue. For now, however, family is enough.

http://www.abcbookworld.com

        He was casual but methodical in his examination. When he checked my breasts, I began to perspire. He was very thorough, checking first the left breast, then the right. He finished the exan, then turned to pick up my file. "Okay," he said, "Everything looks good."
        My first inclination was to flee. A reprieve, I thought. But something held me back 
        I was amazed at how casual my voice sounded. "Could you check the right breast again? I think there's a lump of some sort there.
        He palpated the upper part of my breast again, firmly but gently. "Where exactly have you felt it?"
        I stared at the wall, focussing on a photograph of a lopsided bell-tower. "At about five o'clock, " I told him.
        His experienced fingers moved around my breast, and then his hand stopped. "Here?"
        "Yes."

The story of Rosalind Macphee's battle with cancer is the subject of her last book Picasso's Woman. She takes us into a very personal part of her life, and allows us to participate with her as she celebrates herself, her family and her friends. It is clear that MacPhee needed to be writing this book as a means of dealing with the disease, so it fulfils a self-centred need. It would be very easy for an audience to feel uncomfortable with such a story, and to dismiss it as too personal. MacPhee never allows that to happen. The writing is honest, direct, and astute. The story is equal measure wisdom, heartbreak, and hilarity. She clearly wants this story to be shared. Every year there are upwards on 16,000 Canadian women who are diagnosed with breast cancer, so this story is potentially of interest to a very large audience.

http://www.cbc.ca/canadareads

Tomson Highway's the Kiss of the Fur Queen is the story of two brothers who survive an abusive and exploitive childhood. This book is based on Highway's actual childhood, so it is a catharsis for him as well as a tribute to his recently deceased brother. To the rest of us it is a story of nobility. I admire the courage and the determination of the two boys, and I sympathize with them as adults as they establish order in their lives. The story a personal tribute and a journey for the author, but it is also an affirmation of the strength of the human spirit. It is reassuring for the rest of us to see that such order and such achievement is possible.

 

Previous Page                                          Next Page