Scan barcode
A review by kimcheel
The Englishman's Boy by Guy Vanderhaeghe
2.0
I had an extremely hard time finishing this book. It took me about 14 days. That’s almost triple the amount it usually takes me to finish a book. I can’t quite put a finger on why I didn’t enjoy it. I should have. It’s historical - I love history. It’s Canadian, and so am I!
Despite loving history, I hadn’t ever heard of the Cypress Hills Massacre until maybe last year and even then, I had really only heard the name. The problem with learning history as a white settler is that you don’t often hear about the white-led violence of settling. Additionally, I grew up in Ontario. The west was always some kind of wild arena in a lot of Ontarians minds . . . until I moved to Alberta.
Moving on: the Cypress Hills Massacre happened in 1873. American and Canadian wolf-hunters were looking for their horses who they assumed were stolen by “Indians” (to use the language of the day). They met a small band of Assiniboine and that’s where the poop hit the fan. Hardwick (who is a character in the novel as well) accuses Little Soldier (also in the book) of stealing them. Little Soldier says they didn’t but there are horses grazing just yonder, so take two of them as a sign of peace and respect (this was in the book - there were three conflicting reports from the actual event). Hardwick was not satisfied (and he and Little Soldier both were drunk), so a massive fight took place. From the ashes of the Massacre came the formation of the North West Mounted Police, mentioned in passing in the book. [This was just an extremely brief sum-up of the events. Take the time to read about it yourself, especially if, like me, you’re a Canadian who didn’t know much or anything about it in the first place!]
In terms of a Western story, which the 1873 narrative was, it didn’t grab me as much as a Larry McMurtry book might have. There is something about Canadian fiction literature that in my reading experience affects every book. It’s this presence of gloom. I especially note this in authors from the Maritimes. It’s almost as if there’s an overwhelming sense of existentialism for one, or more characters in all Canadian lit (that I’ve read thus far). I know that in the anthology of short stories I’ve written, people have mentioned noticing the same thing there. Is it ingrained in Canadian authors?
Harry Vincent’s narrative - in which he is hired by a man to tell the story of Shorty McAdoo (and ultimately the events of the 1873 massacre) isn’t really all that different. Despite taking place in Hollywood in the 20s with all the glamour of film writing and filmmaking, it was so oppressive. Was that the point of it all? Perhaps by the end as Harry struggles to get Shorty to talk about any of it.
I wonder if I had read this book having more knowledge of the actual history, I could have enjoyed it more. To give credit where it’s due, I feel like Canadian-based historical fiction is hard to find. So what do you recommend?
Despite loving history, I hadn’t ever heard of the Cypress Hills Massacre until maybe last year and even then, I had really only heard the name. The problem with learning history as a white settler is that you don’t often hear about the white-led violence of settling. Additionally, I grew up in Ontario. The west was always some kind of wild arena in a lot of Ontarians minds . . . until I moved to Alberta.
Moving on: the Cypress Hills Massacre happened in 1873. American and Canadian wolf-hunters were looking for their horses who they assumed were stolen by “Indians” (to use the language of the day). They met a small band of Assiniboine and that’s where the poop hit the fan. Hardwick (who is a character in the novel as well) accuses Little Soldier (also in the book) of stealing them. Little Soldier says they didn’t but there are horses grazing just yonder, so take two of them as a sign of peace and respect (this was in the book - there were three conflicting reports from the actual event). Hardwick was not satisfied (and he and Little Soldier both were drunk), so a massive fight took place. From the ashes of the Massacre came the formation of the North West Mounted Police, mentioned in passing in the book. [This was just an extremely brief sum-up of the events. Take the time to read about it yourself, especially if, like me, you’re a Canadian who didn’t know much or anything about it in the first place!]
In terms of a Western story, which the 1873 narrative was, it didn’t grab me as much as a Larry McMurtry book might have. There is something about Canadian fiction literature that in my reading experience affects every book. It’s this presence of gloom. I especially note this in authors from the Maritimes. It’s almost as if there’s an overwhelming sense of existentialism for one, or more characters in all Canadian lit (that I’ve read thus far). I know that in the anthology of short stories I’ve written, people have mentioned noticing the same thing there. Is it ingrained in Canadian authors?
Harry Vincent’s narrative - in which he is hired by a man to tell the story of Shorty McAdoo (and ultimately the events of the 1873 massacre) isn’t really all that different. Despite taking place in Hollywood in the 20s with all the glamour of film writing and filmmaking, it was so oppressive. Was that the point of it all? Perhaps by the end as Harry struggles to get Shorty to talk about any of it.
I wonder if I had read this book having more knowledge of the actual history, I could have enjoyed it more. To give credit where it’s due, I feel like Canadian-based historical fiction is hard to find. So what do you recommend?