Hospital Corridors / Mary Burchell Richmond UK: Mills & Boon, 1976, c1958. 192 p. A second Burchell that I've just finished is also up for a review -- but this time, not because of its social criticism and exploration of post-war values. No, this time it's because I was vastly entertained to discover that this book was set mostly in Montreal! And I started to wonder if Burchell has been hired by the Canadian Tourism Board for this little travelogue ;) There is a lot of rhapsodic description of the setting, as Nurse Madeline arrives from England to Quebec City, then makes her way to Montréal, and encounters rich Anglo weekends in the Laurentians, country drives to small Quebec towns, a view clear across to the the USA on a clear day from the Lookout on the Mountain, and even a dinner at Ruby Foo's. The descriptions are delightful, and I could pretty much identify the huge "Dominion Hospital" she works at as the Royal Victoria. And the hotel at which she meets her upper crust English suitor -- for dinner only! -- must be the Ritz Carlton. The story is fairly predictable though the depiction of Madeline and her fellow young nurses is entertaining and lively. The plot: Madeline's half-sister Clarissa meets a Canadian doctor in their English setting in the mid-50s -- she tells Madeline and their mother Enid that she will likely marry him, so they should all start thinking about moving to Canada together. Madeline, a trained nurse, discovers that there is a training program available for English nurses to work a year in Montreal, so she applies. Then Clarissa throws over her doctor, but Madeline determines to go forward with her own adventure anyhow. And meets a mysterious, handsome doctor on the ship over, who of course turns out to be the one and only jilted almost-brother-in-law. There are a lot more machinations in the plot to get Madeline and Doctor Nat Lanyon together. Madeleine has another admirer, the charismatic Morton Sanders, her sister's previous employer who hired her to accompany his neurotic mother to Canada aboard the ship, and is now giving her a bit of a rush. Doctor Lanyon seems remarkably sanguine about Madeleine dating another man for most of the book. It's only when her sister and mother come over for a visit and Clarissa bats her eyes at him once more, never mind that she's now legally married to someone else, that jealousy reveals Madeleine's true feelings to herself, and then, of course, all ends well. As Madeline and Nat declare their love to one another, they also declare their love for the country. This is the ending of the book:
"Stop here for a while, Nat,"she said softly. "I want to look at my little bit of Canada." He stopped immediately, humouring her, and together they looked out over the darkening city. "It's beautiful," she said half to herself. "It's beautiful, and now it's my home." "It's only one corner of your home, my darling," he assured her. "All the years and all the miles are there for us both. From ocean to ocean it will all be your home. Together we'll watch the sunrise in the Rockies, the water come swirling down Kicking Horse River, and the mists clearing from the Valley of the Ten Peaks. You haven't seen more than the smallest beginning of it yet." "I know. It's so vast one can't quite imagine it even now." She smiled slowly. Then musingly she said, "Canada. They call it the land of the future, don't they?" "They do. And perhaps they're right." He smiled too then. "At any rate, it's the land of our future." Then he started the car once more, and they drove at their own pace back to the hospital, secure in the knowledge that tonight, not only Canada, but all the world was theirs.
After that Tourism Board Approved™ conclusion, all I could think of was this.I hope you enjoy!
Love is my Reason / Mary Burchell Toronto: Harlequin, 1974, c1957. 189 p. I've read a lot of Mary Burchell's Harlequin romances over the years. From my first introduction to her charming romances, But Not For Me (now a favourite) to the discovery of her quite astonishing life and her memoir We Followed Our Stars -- also republished as Safe Passagein 2008 --I've found her completely fascinating. I just found out about this particular book recently, and though I don't review much of my genre reading, I wanted to share this one. Published in 1957, it details the feelings arising in a young woman, Anya Beranova, as a result of being a Displaced Person after the war. As someone on Goodreads noted, there is not a lot of romance in this one; it feels like Burchell rolled one in so that Harlequin would publish it with her other work. The main love interest is a bit dreary, really, but Anya wants him, and that's all that really matters. In its tone and its look at post-war politics and social gradations, I was reminded in some elusive way of Helen MacInnes, a mystery writer of the same era. I loved the way that Burchell's long established love of opera and theatre and performance also plays a role in this story, as Anya discovers a latent "small talent" that leads her to her family and her future. The story runs thus: young Anya meets Englishman David Manworth by chance when he's holidaying in Bavaria. By a series of chance circumstances they meet a few times and develop a friendship. Then her father dies, after asking David to care for his young daughter...who is really the daughter of an Englishman. Feeling in some way responsible for her, David and his party -- his Aunt, her friend and her daughter, plus David's cousin, take Anya back to England with them. Anya must there discover who she really is and what she really wants, all while dealing with the emotions arising from her rootlessness and lack of national identity, and her long history of powerlessness and insecurity in DP camps across Europe. There are some reflections that are frighteningly current. With David in Bavaria there is a young woman, Celia, who is likely to marry him as their positions are similar and it would be convenient to them. She takes an instant dislike to Anya, which Anya sees, being so aware of her security in the world and how other people affect that. As Burchell writes,
Anya felt the chill of that stony dislike. "And yet she has everything on her side," thought Anya wonderingly. "She is secure and happy and rich and beloved. Why should she hate and fear me, a stranger, with no country, no home, and even a father who is in doubt?"
A good question. Anya is shuffled around a bit, finds her hidden talent thanks to Cousin Bertram, a stage manager (and one of the most appealing characters in the book for me), discovers her true identity and gets her man in the end. But even as she's doing so she continues to hold her ambition to develop a career and to be self-sufficient and independent, and to hold her future in her own hands. I feel that if Burchell had been able to get away with not marrying her off in the end, she might have done so -- and the book would certainly have been more realistic and powerful that way. I was really struck by the currency of the concept of this story, and by Burchell's compassion not for The Displaced as a generality, but the real interior life of one young girl caught up in the winds of war. It makes the setting and the social conditions of the DP camps much more emotionally resonant. Burchell's work during the war and her concern for those caught up in its aftermath both shine out in this book in a way I haven't seen from her before. While it's a pretty slight romance with convoluted plotting for drama's sake, it's also a fascinating contemporary look at the very present reality of DPs, refugees and those fleeing conflict in whichever way they can. A timely read that still echoes today.
