A Man in Uniform by Kate Taylor

Released today, A Man in Uniform is, according to the description offered by the publisher, Doubleday Canada,:

“A seductive new novel from the author of the award-winning bestseller Mme Proust and the Kosher Kitchen.

At the height of the Belle Epoque, the bourgeois lawyer François Dubon lives a well-ordered life. He spends his days at his office, his evenings with his aristocratic wife — and his afternoons with his generous mistress. But this complacent existence is shattered when a mysterious widow pays him a call. She insists only Dubon can rescue her innocent friend, an army captain by the name of Dreyfus who has been convicted of spying. Against his better judgment, Dubon is drawn into a case that will forever alter his life.”

I read this novel quickly, over one weekend. I feel Taylor has created a compelling story using an historical event that divided the nation of France. The Dreyfus Affair began in 1894. Captain Alfred Dreyfus, an innocent Jewish Officer in the French Army, was convicted on false evidence, manufactured with military approval, for a crime of high treason. He was stripped of his rank, publicly degraded and deported to the penal colony of Devil’s Island to serve a sentence of life imprisonment, in total isolation, and under inhumane conditions. The fight to prove his innocence lasted 12 years.

The Dreyfus Affair caused a deep rift between intellectuals not only in French society, but in all of Europe and the United States. It unleashed racial violence and led to the publication of history’s most famous call for justice, J’accuse, addressed to the President of France by Emile Zola (in January 1898); Zola became, in the words of Anatole France, “the conscience of mankind”.

This event in France’s history involved not only political and military scandals but also murder, deceit, corruption and treachery. Using the documented truths of the Dreyfus Affair as the launching point for her second novel, Taylor becomes a master weaver, braiding the intricacies of historical fact with her own imagination and linear storytelling. Taylor also punches up an already bountiful chain of events through the introduction of femme fatales, seduction and villainy. Characters, both real and invented, co-mingle in her mostly solid novel.

I have had a hard time creating a review for this work because, while so many elements work ~ the plot, the historical context, the characters ~ I was very let down by the use of coincidence and convenience. Taylor is a gifted writer and a talented, award winning Canadian journalist. (She writes an Arts column for the Globe and Mail, was previously their Theatre critic and has been on staff with the paper since 1989). Through research, I discovered the initial manuscript for her new novel “went through three significantly different drafts that involved major plot changes… Draft number two had serious tweaking…Draft number three involved a major rewrite then a major set of cuts” before the manuscript was considered ready for publication. Learning these details made me wonder what elements were sacrificed from a story that could have achieved literary perfection in order to make the novel more broadly appealing?

The novel is very well-paced and enjoyable; I debated calling it a fun read; it definitely makes for a perfect “summer read”. While looking at other reviews for A Man in Uniform, the terms “a romp” and “rollicking” were encountered again and again. The novel definitely engages the reader and seems to have all of the components of a very good historical, literary mystery. For me, the novel is hard to categorize by genre. I have read many reviews that refer to the book as a ‘hardboiled mystery’, but to my understanding, these types of stories are distinguished by an unsentimental portrayal of crime, violence, and sex. I think there is a lot of emotion in Taylor’s novel, and her writing, so I am a bit dismissive of that particular classification. In the end, though, I don’t think this matters. My only issue, really, has to do with how “neat” the story was; how conveniently it climaxed and resolved. The novel is good so I am hopeful it will be embraced and enjoyed by readers. Kate Taylor is a great writer and the story is strong.

I recommend A Man in Uniform and rate it 3.5 our of 5.

What’s Black & White and Read All Over?

I realized I have not posted my articles as published in The Globe and Mail (when you click on the link, scroll down a bit and the story is on the right side of the page). Going through the writing process, in Vancouver, was easy enough for me, once I got over the nerves and doubt, you know the little voice in your head that likes to, sometimes, rain on your parade? I do a lot of writing but it is not what I would call ‘journalism’. It is definitely creative fiction that I spend my time working on. Of that writing, I am quirkily, oddly and perhaps absurdly over-protective. I don’t share my fiction writing with anyone. It makes me feel sick to my stomach to think about sharing it or showing it to anyone.

There have been exactly two occasions when I have shared my writing. One instance – maybe 6 years ago – occurred when I let the husband read about 20 pages of a story I had been working on. Happily that went very well – his feedback was helpful and his comments very supportive. Biased, or not! Ever since then, though, he wants to see more of my writing and wants to know what is happening with ‘the girls’ from the bit he read. I don’t like that one bit. I find it invasive and uncomfortable. So silly!

The second occasion of sharing took place about 3 years ago. I had decided to take the plunge and join a local writing group. (This only after several conversations with a writer friend whom I trust and respect. His encouragement to ‘give it a try’ really allowed me to be a little more open to the group process.) The woman who started the writing group had become an acquaintance through the book group I attend. She is also a writer and had mentioned her group to me. I attended several meetings and managed to evade contributing my work for scrutiny. Of course, that only lasted so long and eventually I was asked. I felt too protective of any of the current projects I was working on so I opted to create a new piece to offer my group-mates. I was pleased with what I created but didn’t feel emotionally attached or invested in the piece. Well, come the day I had been worried about, I was a mess beforehand. I had physical pains in my belly and wanted to throw-up. Charming, I know. I even, briefly, thought about not going to the group meeting but that would be too sucky. If nothing else, I am a glutton for pain and punishment. Okay, maybe not a glutton but the tolerance level is absurdly, ridiculously high! (Also another genetic trait with the women in our family.) So, I went and gave out my work. With the meetings we would talk about projects we were working on and anything related to writing. Then, at the end of the meeting copies of work would be handed out to be read and critiqued at home and then brought back to the next meeting.

A few days after our writing group meeting, my phone rang. It was one of the members from writing group. She was calling about my piece. I took a big breath and waited for, I don’t know what, but I felt the need to brace myself. Well, what came next caused me a bit of embarrassment but was a tremendous (if short-lived) boost to the writing ego. The feedback I was offered was very positive and bordered on gushing. I don’t take compliments well so this is why I felt embarrassed. It was awkward for me hearing good things about my writing. Anyway, my critic made a literary comparison between my work and the work of a known, published author that floored me. “I have no response to that.” I uttered. I still don’t. The first person to guess to whom my work was compared wins a free book! Seriously. I know it is a huge stab in the dark, but give it a shot! I offer one clue – it is a male fiction writer. If you know me and know this story, you can’t play! Sorry!!

Since then I haven’t shared any fiction writing. I don’t truly understand what my resistance is all about so, if you have any ideas please send them my way! I suffered the implosion of my hard drive and lost 90% of all of my writing. It was the scream heard ’round the road the day that happened. Followed by the tears of anger at myself. I hadn’t done a recent back-up because I was either naively detached or cockily arrogant. I had never had any computer problems, ever, so I was blase about regular back-ups. I lost my entire hard drive that day, including 3 novels in various states of completion – 300+ pages, 170+ pages and 90+ pages – and many, many ideas in different stages of hatching.

When this happened I was so defeated; I didn’t write anything for nearly one year. It was a bad time in my small bit of the world for many reasons but the lack of writing as an outlet was an additional challenge to overcome. Now that I am back into writing mode. I am hopeful to complete a novel this year but don’t ask me about it, please!

My recent journalism experience has also tweaked an long-held interest so ‘things’ may develop in that area also. This type of writing does not feel as personal to me and I don’t have any qualms about ‘putting it out there’, the way I do with my fiction writing. Both styles of writing are wonderful and I like each of them for different reasons. Wherever the path leads now, I am enjoying this feeling of possibility!

February 15th – The Continuing Story

When last I left you, Ed Robertson and Sean Cullen were just finishing a musical spoof of “Sundown”, a song written and performed, originally, by Gordon Lightfoot. My favourite lyric (I hope you are humming the tune in your head here.): “Sometimes I’m feeling real great, I hope we win another gold medal or eight.” There was an appreciative roar of support for that sentiment.

An intermission in entertainment then occurred and it was a good opportunity to dive into the great buffet in the VIP section of Molson Canadian Hockey House. The food was arranged by the Wolfgang Puck Catering Team and was delicious. We enjoyed beef bourguignon, which was melt in your mouth yummy; lamb; whitefish in a tomato & black olive sauce; smashed red baby potatoes; aromatic saffron rice and a cornucopia of salads and vegetables. It was so good!

After we finished eating we were introduced a number of writers and editors from The Globe and Mail. Winning photographer, John Fearnall, and I had previously been told that both the publisher, Phillip Crawley, and the editor-in-chief, John Stackhouse, wanted to meet us. Uh-oh! I was a bit nervous about this. It turns out Mr. Crawley had flown home earlier in the day so meeting him wasn’t going to happen. Stackhouse, however, was in the house and Sean Humphrey (Director of Marketing for The Globe and Mail) made the introductions. Stackhouse was very congenial and asked a lot of questions about my experience so far. We talked for 5 or 6 minutes and I found him to be supportive of “the Dream”.

I then met Andy Willis and he was terrific. He was funny and inquiring. Seeing me taking my notes in a small coil-bound ‘mead five star’ notebook, he pulled his scribbler out of his pocket, tore off the ten or so sheets of paper he had already made notes on and presented it to me for my keeping! WOW! I was so pleased by his gesture and, I think, he was happy to do something so small that became the source of much happiness. I don’t know if I will ever be able to write in his ‘official reporter’s notebook’. It is a treasure, for sure.

Next, I was introduced to Patrick Brethour, who is the BC bureau chief for The Globe. Patrick was pretty curious about the whole contest and experience and was very friendly and keen to hear about what I had been up to since arriving in Vancouver.

Jane Taber then came over and introduced herself. She was terrific. We chatted for a long time about journalism, generally, and writing, specifically. She offered a great perspective on her career noting each day she can see and appreciate her achievement as, at the end of every work day she has a tangible result and something to show for her efforts and time. She is absolutely right.

Intermission over, the entertainment was about to start again but first, John Stackhouse was invited on stage. On this evening, The Globe and Mail was hosting ‘Ladies Night’ at hockey house and we were going to get an opportunity to see every member of the Canadian team on stage. The purpose of the event? To recognize the importance of the Ladies First Hockey Foundation. This non-profit group is sanctioned by the individual and collective members of the National Women’s Hockey Team. The Foundation was established by a group of individuals that recognized the hardships that these athletes face in striving to compete in their sport on the International Stage. The Foundation provides financial assistance to the team members and their families at various times throughout the year. We were very lucky to be sharing our hotel with many of the women’s hockey team family members. In particular we got to know some of the ladies from Gina Kingsbury’s family. They are terrific women and we loved seeing them at breakfast in the morning, particularly if they had been celebrating a win the night before! The Globe and Mail is a supporter of Ladies First Hockey Foundation. It was a great moment, seeing the entire team on stage (after being led out by some mounties) and the crowd gave a lot of love to the women! The crowd went absolutely bonkers as “our greatest collection of female hockey talent” stood on stage soaking of the adoration. Tyler Stewart had taken over MC duties and after the crowd calmed down a bit he let us know about an auction being held to benefit the women’s team. Gibson Canada has donated a white baby grand piano and it is valued at $50,000. All of the women are going to sign the piano and the entire Canadian men’s hockey team is also going to sign it. The estimated value of the autographed piano?? $500,000. Whoa!

9:00 pm – the Canadian Women’s Hockey Team has left the stage and it is now time for the headliner of the night – Tom Cochrane! Cochrane will be 57 in May and he is rocking, backed by his band Red Rider, like a madman. He plays to the crowd, favouring us with his big hits: Victory Day, Sinking Like a Sunset, Big League, White Hot.

9:30 pm – During Cochrane’s performance there is so much energy in the building. As the crowd is cheering, Donald Sutherland walks by – right in front of our noses (in the VIP area). I could have reached out and touched him without even fully extending my arm. Okay, the very large body guards probably would not have let that happen, but…still. He was that close and is very dashing and suave! While I was a student at Bishop’s University I would see Sutherland from time to time as he maintains a country home in the townships. He is as lovely today as he was (cough, cough) 20 years ago.

Sutherland made his way up to the stage and is shortly introduced by Cochrane. Sutherland comes out with Hailey Wickenheiser and the audience, again, is crazed with excitement. She presents Sutherland with a signed hockey jersey. He throws of his sweater and promptly puts on his new, awesome shirt! Funny thing though, when he throws his own sweater off and it lands on the floor, Hailey immediately bends down and picks it up (I guess the mothering instinct in women is always present). Sutherland, noticing this, swishes the sweater out of her hands and throws it back down on the ground! It was a funny moment. Sutherland then got the crowd going some more when he asked, in his lovely, TV friendly voice: “Do you believe?” We believe, Donald! We BELIEVE! They left the stage and Cochrane starts back into his set. We are treated to: The Untouchable One, Good Times and Human Race.

This day has been incredible and there is still so many more days of adventure ahead.

Photos taken by John Fearnall. His work is amazing and he was the photography winner of The Globe and Mail’s Journalism Dream contest. Besides being a great and talented photographer he is also a very good man. Please check out his site and all of his beautiful images.

WHOA!

I have a lot yet to write about and catch everyone up on all of the adventures we have been having out here in Vancouver. It has been fairly busy and I am sorry there are just not enough hours in a day to get everything done they way I had hoped.

I head home today. I am looking forward to sleeping in my own bed again (although the beds in our hotel have been exceptionally comfortable; there’s just no bed like your own) but I am sad to have reached the end of my “Journalism Dream”. It truly has been a dream come true. I have enjoyed experiences I had previously only fantasized about and been thrilled beyond explanation for every moment in Vancouver. My excellent friend, Cathy, summed it up with the perfect word: abundance. I am filled with a sense of overflowing fullness and it is wonderful.

So far, 2010 has been an exceptional year! Cheers!

Leaving on a Jet Plane

10 February 2010

3:00 am ~ although the alarm is set for 5:00 am, I lie in bed awake crossing off items on my mental checklist. Today I leave for Vancouver: headed to the Olympics and headed toward my Journalism Dream, courtesy of The Globe and Mail. I give up the pretence of sleeping at 3:45 am and head for the shower. There is still a lot to do before the car arrives to take my husband and I to the airport for our 9:00 am flight.

5:40 am ~ in an almost ironic gesture, mother nature gifted Toronto with our first major snow fall and while in previous years an accumulation of 4 inches wouldn’t be particularly special, this year it is the most flaky precipitation we have seen. Before sunrise the neighbourhood looks eerily beautiful covered in a blanket of snow. Vancouver has experienced warmer than usual temperatures. Flowers are blooming and grass to lovely and green. Olympic Games organizers resorted to Plan B in mid-January and closed Cypress Mountain in an attempt to preserve the existing base of powder. They have also been using the past many weeks to fortify the course with bales of hay, dump trucks full of snow and snow brought in by helicopter from higher altitudes.

5:45 am ~ the car to the airport was to have been here five minutes ago. This is not good. Those guys are always much earlier than called for. I start to experience something akin to panic. The husband is out pacing the sidewalk looking for a vehicle that appears lost. I call the dispatch office and am reassured the driver is only a few minutes away. The weather is slowing things down.

5:55 am ~ still no car. Something akin to panic now makes room for full-on anxiety. I call the dispatch office again. The gentleman puts me on hold while he contacts the driver. He comes back on the line and sheepishly tells me the driver turned around and headed back to the garage. Something is wrong with the car. I ask as to how quickly a replacement will be sent. Dispatch, after checking my address for the fourth time says “We have no cars in the area, why don`t you take a cab?” Durr!! I bite my tongue and hold back on releasing a stream of unhelpful yet sure to be good feeling expletives. If it weren`t for the fact that we live in the country and don`t have access to cab service I would not now be controlling my hyperventilating.

6:00 am – in a move becoming less and less familiar with each new technological gadget I acquire, I pull out the Yellow Pages. A, Ab…Air conditioning… Airport Taxi…. I find a phone number for an airport taxi service that is the closest to our home. A kindly woman answers my call and I am reassured a car can be at our door in ten minutes. I breathe a hesitant sigh of something that is not quite relief.

6:25 am – no sign of newly arranged airport taxi. I call my lovely new friend back. “Well he should be there.” she tells me. Suddenly I hear a sound more familiar on the streets of New York City than in the small country hamlet we call home. It’s husband. He has spotted the taxi and let loose with an impressive whistle. Good morning neighbours, in case you overslept today!

6:30 am – We load into into the car, luggage in the trunk and are finally headed southbound for Pearson Airport.

7:10 am – While a little behind schedule we arrive safely. Our flight is on time. The airport is bustling and people everywhere are sporting their Olympic finery. Coats, hats sweatshirts; it is a sea of support for our athletes before we even get off the ground. I am travelling with a cane. An Air Canada representative notices husband and I and suggests, rather than wait in the long line up, we should check-in at the special assistance desk. I tell her I think we are okay but she gives a conspiratorial nod and explains that the waits are long and we could be served much quicker at the AS desk. Before I can thank her husband has beetled towards the fast-track lane. While busy and hectic, each AC staff member we encounter is friendly and helpful. We breeze through check-in and head for our departure gate. Security is moving steadily and we get through this screening equally fast.

7:40 am – sitting at the gate. It is still looking rather stormy and raw outside. Our flight reamains on schedule and more happy AC people announce they would like to thank all of the athletes, support staff and their families for flying with them today. WHA?? Quickly my head snaps left and right. “Who is on our flight”, I wonder? Surely there can’t be athletes travelling so close to competition time. With that thought come and gone I catch sight of a new trio of dudes just arrived to our departure gate. They look suspiciously like bobsledders. I kick myself for not spending more time reading every Canadian athlete’s profile on the official Vancouver 2010 web site. I have spent a lot of time there, but clearly not enough. I won`t be able to verify my hunch until after landing in Vancouver. I also notice Tina Srebotnjak waiting to board. She hosts Imprint, a great book show, on TVOntario. Canada, books, me!! Ahhh. This day is getting better and better. She catches me smiling and returns the gesture. Thanks Tina!

8:30 am – we are on time and begin boarding. We got lucky with our seats and enjoy the extra legroom offered by our row 18 seats. We are in the first row of coach class. Immediately in front of us are the “pod” seating. They look like a perfect way to enjoy a 4 1/2 hour flight but we have done really well getting the extra leg room with our seats.

9:00 am – the captain announces that, due to the poor weather conditions, we will be delayed 10 to 15 minutes as the plane requires deicing before take-off. We trundle along and our plane takes its place in line.

10:10 am – while not quite the fifteen minutes predicted, we are finally headed for the runway. Woo-hoo! We are up, up and away.

10:30 am – having your own personal viewing monitor is so great. I scroll through the menu, curious about which movies are available. I get very happy when I see Ricky Gervais’s recent film The Invention of Lying. Gervais can make me pee my pants with laughter yet also manages to somehow elicit the same response due to discomfort – I am never sure how far he is going to push a joke. I don’t know why I question this. He always pushes it THAT far. This is the genius of Ricky Gervais.

10:35 am – while the film previews roll, I am find my brain wondering about. I am still in disbelief my entry in The Globe and Mail’s Journalism Dream contest has gotten my butt in this seat, with husband beside me. I have butterflies of excitement and moths of anxiety. I have so many people who supported me in my quest to do well that I am worried about letting family and friends down. I know I am being silly but having the upcoming responsibilities of coming up with interesting ideas, writing and filing of said interesting tidbits of Olympic entertainment with a Globe editor, and meeting tight deadlines has brought on the moths. I will do my very best and hope it is to the liking of my boss. Shoot. I haven’t had a boss in more than ten years. My tolerance for stupid has heightened dramatically in this time. It is low. Very, very low. I make a mental note to bite my tongue, should the occasion arise. Not that I am expecting stupidity, it is “The Globe and Mail” after all. However, being hugely out of practice in reporting to an official boss, the stupidity could come from me! No, not really…oh, wait, I do have that nervous talking and inappropriate comments thing that happens sometimes? Ach, it will all be swell. I won’t let you down!!

More to come…links, photos, the rest of a day. Here’s a little teaser though:

All access media pass makes Jennifer a happy girl!