And the Canadian reading continues! I read The Book of Eve (1973) by Constance Beresford-Howe on the plane home from Canada having picked it up in Fair’s Fair in Calgary. It was one of the bookshops that very considerately had bookcases dedicated to Canadian authors, and I spent a good while going through an awful lot of promising-looking books. I’d never heard of this author or title, but it had the magical words ‘boarding house’ in the blurb – and that was enough to swing it for me.
Here is the opening paragraph:
The real surprise – to me anyway – was not really what I did, but how I felt afterwards. Shocked, of course. But not guilty. You might say, and be right, that the very least a woman can be is shocked when she walks out on a sick and blameless husband after forty years. But to feel no guilt at all – feel nothing, in fact, but simple relief and pleasure – that did seem odd, to say the least. How annoying for God (not to mention Adam), after all, if Eve had just walked out of Eden without waiting to be evicted, and left behind her pangs of guilt, as it were, with her leaf apron?
That’s about the only time the Bible is mentioned, perhaps to justify Beresford-Howe’s attention-grabbing title, though there are also letters that the narrator writes to God scattered occasionally through the book. Eva (why not Eve?) Carroll is that narrator – a 65-year-old wife and mother who walks out of a marriage to Burt that, to external observers, seems ordinary and content. There is no other man or other women; there is no domestic violence. There isn’t even really unkindness. Eve has simply had enough of a world in which she feels constantly trammeled and stifled.
She takes herself to the other side of Montreal, where she lies low for a while. She phones her 38-year-old son, Neil, to let him know that she is ok – and agrees to meet with him.
My dear son, my Neil and his kind heart with its rare flashes of insight and clumsy tact. He was the enemy, not Burt; with his sweetness and reason he was the real threat. All his life I’d fought against loving Neil too much, and that was all that helped me now.
“No, dear. I’m not going to New York. Or to Florida. Or back to your father. So if that’s all you can suggest, we might as well let you get back to the office.”
Burt refuses to make her an allowance, and Eva has no legal claim to the house she has tended for decades. There is a small pension to live on, and she refuses her son’s offers of financial help – which she knows he can’t afford. A fair amount of the story involves Eva trying to make ends meet, so she can afford the rent on her tiny apartment and the daily necessities. She does this by finding discarded things on the street on pawning them, to complement her meagre pension. In the story of a woman walking out of her life and surviving in unlikely circumstances, I was reminded of The L-Shaped Room by Lynne Reid Banks and The Swamp Angel by Ethel Wilson. But those women are (respectively) much younger and rather younger than Eva. There is still something so shocking, so taboo, about a woman of Eva’s age choosing independence without a ‘good reason’. And that’s in inverted commas because, of course, Eva’s reason is fundamentally good in her eyes. In the 1970s, I’m sure that 65 felt much older than 65 does today – making Eva’s decision-making all the more unexpected.
While there are a handful of residents in the boarding house, it isn’t really a boarding house novel in the way I’d imagined – it isn’t, that is to say, a novel about a collection of unlikely people brought together. They are largely peripheral – with the exception of Johnny, a Hungarian immigrant a decade or more younger than her with whom she starts a love affair. Or is ‘love affair’ the right terminology? The Book of Eve is certainly not a romance novel, and while Eva’s connection with Johnny has excitement, passion, humour and intrigue, he is not a knight in shining armour and Beresford-Howe resists any simple conclusions about whether a different man is really a solution to whatever problem Eva is experiencing. But, again, how many 1970s novels have thoughtful scenes of passion involving a woman of Eva’s age?
The Book of Eve really rests on the character of Eva, and I think she was a real success. Beresford-Howe concentrates on making her a nuanced character rather than necessarily an empathetic one. This is no Lady Sloane in Vita Sackville-West’s All Passion Spent, whom we unquestioningly cheer on. While no reader is likely to feel sorry for Eva’s abandoned husband, her son is more sympathetic and her granddaughter still more so. Eva treats other characters with occasional thoughtlessness, and can be frustrating in her refusal to address things head on.
And yet, and yet… I found her absolutely compelling. I loved spending time with her in all her complexities, and was fascinated to see how she would survive and what she would discover in this brave new world. I’d always rather read about interesting characters than morally upright ones – haven’t we all been annoyed by characters whose only purpose is to carry forth whatever message the author thinks is important? It is Eva’s moral grey area, and Beresford-Howe’s resistance to easy answers and pat plot points, that makes The Book of Eve such a brilliant read. I believe it is a Canadian classic, probably well known by readers in that nation – but I think rather less well-known in the UK. If you haven’t heard of it, and you love nuanced feminist novels about authentic, believable women – and, of course, if you a boarding house novel – then I urge you to lay your hands on it. If you are an aficianado of Canadian literature, do let me know what else I should read by her!
This sounds great! Perhaps other U.S. bloggers who are better] read than I are familiar with this author, but I’d never heard of her. Thanks for the review — Eve is immediately going on the TBR!
I think she is a well-kept Canadian secret!
And straight onto my wish list too! Thanks for introducing me to another new author. This sounds like exactly my sort of favourite book to read.
Hope you can track down a copy!
Read all her books! She is an amazing author in my opinion.
I’m so glad! Do you have a favourite?
Beginning with her first, The Unreasoning Heart (1946), I’ve been making my way slowly through Constance Beresford-Howe’s novels. Of This Day’s Journey (1947) was next, followed by The Invisible Gate (1949). Did you know she wrote all three while attending university? It was all I could do to get a paper in on time.
I’m committed to reading her novels in chronological order, which means the next is My Lady Greensleeves (1955), set in 16th-century England. Not one for historical novels, I’m girding my loins.
An interesting thing about the Beresford-Howe bibliography is that it can divided neatly in two parts. The first consists of the novels published between 1946 and 1955 as a young woman. After My Lady Greensleeves we have a long silence broken in 1973 by The Book of Eve. Five more novels were published in the seventeen years that followed. My understanding is that it was during this time she wrote her best work. A friend recommends A Population of One (1976) as your next read.
In 2019, I played a part in having a plaque honouring the author installed in Montreal’s Writers’ Chapel. I know Canada is one of your favourite travel destinations. If you ever visit Canada’s most beautiful city (says this Montrealer), I’ll be pleased to show it off.
I knew I could rely on you, Brian! This is wonderful. I admire you committing to the project to the extent of reading My Lady Greensleeves, which I would definitely avoid – but I’m glad there are lots of options out there. It might have to wait for my next trip to Canada to gather them though. And I’m sure Montreal will be on my eventual destination list, though I always thought my lack of French might make me a pariah.
Do come, Simon, your lack of French will mean nothing. Montreal ranks with Toronto as one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the world. I almost feel inferior in not knowing a third or fourth language. The typical greeting when you enter a restaurant is “Bonjour-Hi!”
You will be welcomed!
Added bonus: Montreal is very close to Ottawa (okay, it’s 200km, but in Canada that’s a hop skip and a jump).
I read this novel years ago, in the late 80s, I think. It was so unusual then to read a book like this. I still have memories of it but thank you for fleshing it out so lucidly! I’m afraid this author isn’t read very much anymore.
Excellent – I would definitely read more by her
I haven’t heard of the author either. Your appealing review makes me want to read the book. Unfortunately none of the nearby libraries have it.
It does seem to be tricky to track down unless you’re in Canada
What an enticing-sounding read, and as usual Canadian books are so hard to get hold of here (I do better with Australian ones!).
Reading Margaret Atwood’s memoir has made me want to read more Canadian authors, as well as more Atwood. I’ve just checked out Survival (her surprise bestseller CanLit guide) but she doesn’t mention this author. Seems worth discovering though!
Oo I don’t know about Survival, but keen to seek that out now.
It’s a surprisingly entertaining read for a book that emphasizes the grim side of Canadian literature. Not at all stuffy or scholarly, but very thought-provoking.
I now see that The Book of Eve came out the year after Survival, so maybe Constance B-H wasn’t a big enough name yet
There is lots she left out – not a word about Robertson Davies, for example, who had published four novels by 1972. But I find it helpful nonetheless, not least in helping me understand Atwood’s own work.