Supple, authentic historical humour
Trudy Morgan-cole paints a tale of people who run the neighbourhood family store
As the times change, the store evolves. During the tough 1930s, most customers run a family tab, and though everyone puts a little down to cover it, Ellen knows some will run forever. But what’s she supposed to do, refuse a widower a loaf of white bread and tub of margarine to feed his kids, the ones he was able to keep from going to relatives or Mount Cashel?
MOST ANYTHING YOU PLEASE BY TRUDY J. MORGAN-COLE BREAKWATER BOOKS $19.95 428 PAGES
The family-run corner grocery store were once both the hive and heart of St. John’s. By nomenclature alone they staked out a definite neighbourhood turf. Named for their owners, they supplied their clients, of whom they knew all, with daily exchange and sustenance: canned beans, Icy Cups, Export As, gossip.
When Wes and Ellen Holloway opened their store in the midst of the Great Depression, Holloway’s Groc ‘n’ Conf was no different. it was seen very much as a family enterprise, as generally the men built the stores and then the women ran them. Having a big family was a great bonus, as the bigger kids could look after the smaller ones, and when they were old enough, work shifts in the store. They wouldn’t get paid but there were the perks such as bags of salt and vinegar chips, or cans of Pineapple Crush. But it was work, almost as engrossing as the inshore fishery:
Ellen hadn’t realized what long days they would be, here in the shop. She opened the doors at eight and served the trickle of women who came through in the morning. She shut it from noon to one o’clock so she could give Wes his dinner, which always had to be something she had prepared the night before. Throughout the morning Frank and Johnny napped and played in their crib in the little room behind the shop; they were usually good babies but she had to pop in and out to tend to them … The schoolchildren got out at three and there was a rush of them into the shop as they bought candy and soda-pop and ran messages for their mothers … Then Ellen would collect up the lists people had dropped off or sent down earlier in the day, things
they wanted delivered before supper. She and [her son] Alf bagged the orders and put them in the hand cart, and Alf went around the neighbourhood making deliveries.
As the times change, the store evolves. During the tough 1930s, most customers run a family tab, and though everyone puts a little down to cover it, Ellen knows some will run forever. But what’s she supposed to do, refuse a widower a loaf of white bread and tub of margarine to feed his kids, the ones he was able to keep from going to relatives or Mount Cashel?
Then comes the war, which, for St. John’s, means American soldiers and dancing. Ellen’s daughter Audrey, although just out of high school and planning for her commercial course, is just one of the thousands of Newfoundland women to take up with an American beau — in her case, Henry Pickens, from the seemingly exotic place of Louisiana.
“’Slim pickins around here these days, I know,” he said, as if he had to make the joke before anyone else could., “but since it’s slim pickins, maybe you’ll honour me with a dance, Miss Audrey?’” The band had started playing “Besame Mucho,” and Audrey burst out, ‘Oh, I love this song!’” Audrey’s not sure how seriously she feels about Henry, but when he is posted overseas (the war is over but the Americans are busy with German reconstruction) they keep writing.
Loosening social strictures also bring more contact between such previously separate groups as Protestant and Catholics. The Holloways are United Church, but Alf loves Treese, a Roman Catholic, and now what? It’s one of the many family dramas, with half the family threatening not to attend if the wedding is in a church, and the other half vowing to boycott if it isn’t, and all hands ready with an opinion, solicited or not, that keep this book lively and compulsively readable.
All of which play out against broader, always human, scope of affairs. War brides coming to and sailing out of Newfoundland. Confederation and the sudden, amazing influx of social program cheques. The 1960s and the drugs and the band scenes. The 1980s and the waves of young people heading to work out west. The 1990s and the cod moratorium.
The perspective shifts between three central characters, Ellen, Audrey, and a third it would be a bit of a spoiler to reveal up front. This allows multiple viewpoints on specific events, as well as observations of each other.
The narrative is bundled into clusters of years and titled with musical arrangements. Music is very important, even central to several of the characters. Audrey loves listening to it, and names her child after a musician she adores, while many others perform as talented amateurs or professionals.
Trudy Morgan-cole has a great way with language, which here is supple, authentic and often humorous. She adds this to the three well-researched and deftly plotted historical fictions she has already published.
Joan Sullivan is editor of Newfoundland Quarterly magazine. She reviews both fiction and non-fiction for The Telegram.