Review of "Companions to literature. A teacher's guide for The stone angel [by] Margaret Laurence" on 'Goodreads'
4 stars
"Now I am rampant with memory. I don't often indulge in this, or not so very often, anyway. Some people will tell you that the old live in the past--that's nonsense. Each day, so worthless really, has a rarity for me lately. I could put it in a vase and admire it, like the first dandelions, and we would forget their weediness and marvel that they were there at all. But one dissembles, usually, for the sake of such people as Marvin, who is somehow comforted by the picture of old ladies feeding like docile rabbits on the lettuce leaves of other times, other manners. How unfair I am. Well, why not? To carp like this--it's my only enjoyment, that and the cigarettes, a habit I acquired only ten years ago, out of boredom."
Hagar Shipley is the 90 year old maddening, often rude, sharp tongued narrator who looks back …
"Now I am rampant with memory. I don't often indulge in this, or not so very often, anyway. Some people will tell you that the old live in the past--that's nonsense. Each day, so worthless really, has a rarity for me lately. I could put it in a vase and admire it, like the first dandelions, and we would forget their weediness and marvel that they were there at all. But one dissembles, usually, for the sake of such people as Marvin, who is somehow comforted by the picture of old ladies feeding like docile rabbits on the lettuce leaves of other times, other manners. How unfair I am. Well, why not? To carp like this--it's my only enjoyment, that and the cigarettes, a habit I acquired only ten years ago, out of boredom."
Hagar Shipley is the 90 year old maddening, often rude, sharp tongued narrator who looks back on her life as she fights off her son's and daughter-in-law's attempts to move her to a nursing home. She simultaneously conducts internal and external versions of conversations with her family, and then reprimands herself for being unkind when she isn't actually feeling that way. But she can't help herself. She is feisty and combative, and is making a final stand to assert her independence as she witnesses her bodily and mental controls slip away. You have to admire her fierceness.
Laurence skillfully weaves a dual narrative of the past and present day Hagar, and the transitions between them are seamless. The narrator looks back on her childhood, a difficult marriage, and the loss of her husband and son on the Manitoba prairie. Old age is a tough topic, and it was especially so in 1964 when the novel was written. It may not be a book for the young, but, man, does it pack a wallop for everybody else.
At turns funny and horrifying, but always riveting, I couldn't believe I had never heard of this title. Canadian writers have struggled for a long time to be taken seriously--it wasn't really until Margaret Atwood came on the scene (and even she had to fight for recognition) that people began to take notice, and The Stone Angel deserves to be noticed.