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Happy Pilgrims
by Stephen Finucan
Insomniac Press, 2000
Reviewed by
Harold Hoefle
In
1494, the German poet Sebastian Brant published Narrenschiff
- Ship of Fools - a long satiric work that likely inspired
Hieronymus Bosch's painting of shouting, boozing, clutching
peasants and clerics on a land-bound ark. This scene adorns
the cover of Stephen Finucan's debut short-story collection,
Happy Pilgrims. Seeing that title framed by Bosch, I
wondered how ironic Finucan was being here, and whether I should
expect a tumult of lunatics to lunge from his pages.
Yes,
this Ontario writer does have some crazed characters, but more
importantly, his characters are pilgrims in the sense that they
are searching for meaning. Amid the dross and drama of daily
events, they are trying to fathom what matters; what, exactly,
life is doing to them; in what way should they respond. Moments
become rarefied by the intensity of the search. Here is Angel
- a boy in "On Angel's Wings" - staring at the stained-glass
window in his small-town church, "intrigued by the finely
detailed wings of the cherubs gathered round the edges of the
passions." The hungry curiosity, the religious tradition,
and, significantly, the invocation of great emotion - Finucan
carefully explores these regions. And when emotion becomes extreme,
as in Angel's reaction to his invalid grandfather's shame -
his unmarried daughter gets pregnant again - we see that, like
Timothy Findley, Finucan can deftly trace the logic of madness.
The
characters' pursuit of meaning is girded by Finucan's writing-style,
which is usually controlled, concrete, and suggestive, setting
up tensions that power a story to its finish. In "A Talk",
a boy describes his first duck-hunting trip and how his father
reacts after hearing that his wife failed to tell their son
something important. "His finger played with the safety
catch on his gun, flicking it back and forth. He shifted on
the bench and I felt the boat rock slightly." In this father-son
story we feel the presence of Hemingway's Nick Adams stories,
and also see Finucan's successful use of that writer's less-is-more
credo.
Other
Finucan strengths include his breadth of setting and character.
In eleven stories, ranging in length from four to twenty-four
pages, his settings change from small-town Ontario to Ireland,
England, and France. Character-wise we meet, among others, a
Tarot card reader, priests, a Lourdes businessman, an old Hollywood
movie star, and a paranoid Irish layabout. Moreover, thirty-two-year-old
Finucan writes convincingly of the elderly, of their pilgrimage
lit by memory. In "The Honeymooners," octogenarian
Harry Burns is going to see his hospitalized wife and has stopped
for a beer in a small-town hotel. He is alone in the washroom,
when "the smell of stale beer was replaced by that of fermenting
urine. He stopped for a moment and sniffed deeply. The scent
brought a warm glow of nostalgia and he thought of the old Queen's
again." The Queen's Hotel is the place where Harry drank
before it was turned it into a library; his wife is also the
Queen he still deeply loves, and and wishes to surprise with
a grand plan.
Though
Finucan's stories are generally engaging throughout, there are
some weaknesses. In "On Angel's Wings," the drama
is diluted by the constant use of spacing between scenes, a
technique that, when over-used, seems like a writer's dollar-store
suspense-maker. Another occasional problem is language. While
Finucan's sentences are often evocative, his diction is sometimes
cliché: "in full swing" (in the first story's
first sentence), "furrowed his brow", "ran out
of steam", "her hands clenched in fists." He
also pens the occasional awkward phrase, such as "he leapt
like a perfect swan."
These
quibbles aside, Finucan impresses one with another important
writer-quality: he can both describe various activities and
make the details serve the story. Window installation, travel-agency
dynamics, the priesthood, duck-hunting, high school teaching,
fishing, the film industry: he gives the details of these activities
symbolic resonance and, in his best stories, this resonance
creates a crescendo of narrative energy. That energy also derives
from the less-is-more credo. Often, something in a Finucan story
is only known allusively; it remains unspoken. That tension
is most apparent in his shorter works, such as "A Talk"
and "Windows." In the latter, a woman whose husband
left her now discusses with a contractor the replacement of
her home's windows. The story explores her gathering interest
in the man, an interest moving towards the sexual. In the dialogue,
double-entendre is rife: "What I'm thinking is a double-hung
laid on the top." And later: "Is that it then?"
"For measuring, sure." The contractor does not react
to these innuendoes and the reader remains enticed by what could
happen.
Throughout
Finucan's stories, the action's follow-through seems to lead
one way, then the reader slowly realizes that the writer has
been carefully setting up a movement much less lateral (and
literal), and so much more engaging to follow. One willingly
follows the progress of his pilgrims, empathizes with their
travails, and is surprised by their destinies. Which is another
way of saying that Finucan's Happy Pilgrims is a collection
that should be welcomed and read.
Harold
Hoefle teaches literature in a Montreal high school, and his
story "Spray Job" appeared in the Fall 1999 issue of The Nashwaak
Review.
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