LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
Booked Solid: Fall On Your Knees, by Ann-Marie MacDonald |
a review by Rebecca James |
Fall on Your Knees, by Ann-Marie MacDonald. Scribner paperback, 1996. The Piper family lived on Cape Brenton, a small island off Nova Scotia. I say lived because they don't anymore. Live, that is, on Cape Brenton or anywhere else. Except Lily, but she's different and you will have to wait until later to hear about that. New Waterford was the name of their town, a graygreen rocky village built on coal. It was a mining town, but the Pipers were not miners. James Piper made his living with music, but it was his lovely daughter, Kathleen, that had the gift. She sang like an angel. With Fall on Your Knees, Ann-Marie MacDonald composed an epic tale more akin to classic literature than contemporary fiction. Taking on the challenge of five generations in one story is admirable, to complete the saga so successfully is a major literary achievement. Fall on Your Knees was celebrated as such, too: MacDonald won the coveted Commonwealth Prize for this, her first novel. Although she expressed pride for the award, MacDonald is no stranger to the spotlight. A Canadian actress and playwright, she has appeared in several films including last year's lesbian comedy "Better than Chocolate." She received the Governor General's Award, the Chalmers Award and the Canadian Author's Association Award for her play, "Good night Desdemona (Good Morning Juliet)." James Piper was eighteen when he took his child bride, Materia Mahmoud, from her family. He was her Scottish-Irish-Canadian piano tuner, she was almost thirteen and betrothed to a dentist in the Old Country. The Mahmouds were from Lebanon, but they did not consider themselves Arabs, they were "Mediterranean." Mr. Mahmoud decided not to kill James for dishonoring his family. James converted to Catholicism, there was a proper ceremony and then the young couple was disowned by the Mahmouds. Materia, for their purposes, was dead. It wasn't long before the separation took its toll: Materia was bloated and sallow, depressed and unresponsive, crying all the time. James became ashamed to be seen with her in public. Pregnant, she looked like a child more than ever, but a grossly abused child. Materia prayed for a son to regain her father's love, but Kathleen was born and Materia changed her prayer to "Please, dear Mary Mother of God, make me love my baby." So the Piper family came to be. The dark circumstances surrounding the Pipers' beginnings were not soon forgotten. They become a dark cloud hovering over every birth, every death and any fragment of life in between. James forgot his wife and devoted himself to Kathleenat three, she started the Vaccai Practical Method of Italian Singing. At five, she began Latin lessons; at seven, she spoke fluent Gaelic. She was a perfect golden vision, a princess, and James loved her more than anything. Kathleen was twelve when James first became frightened by his own devotion. She was crying, he held her tight. "A life and a warmth enter his body that he hasn't felt sincethat he has rarely felt. She will be safe with him, I'll keep you safe my darling, oh how he loves this girl. He holds her close, no harm, never any harm. Her hair smells like the raw edge of spring, her skin is the silk of a thousand spinning wheels, her breath so soft and fragrant, milk and honey are beneath your tongue.... Then he shocks himself. He lets her go and draws back abruptly so she will not notice what has happened to him. Sick. I must be sick. He leaves the room and bolts through the back door, across the yard, over the creek to the garden, where he calms down enough to vomit." James spent the next few years giving Kathleen the best education he canaway from home. Kathleen was sent to boarding school, James forced himself to rediscover his wife as a sexual being. He proved himself again and again. Materia bore a child, Mercedes, and loved the daughter unconditionally. She saw the demon that rose in James and knew what her duty was: she seduced her own husband. For the moment, James outran the devil. Next came Frances, then Lily (also known as Other Lily). This child died before it was even baptized. James, still running, volunteered for overseas duty in the war. He prayed for a long assignment, so that Kathleen would be old enough to send to New York for voice lessons when he returned. Materia prayed that he would die. When James did return, he recommitted himself: Kathleen must train in New York. James made boots, he ran illegal moonshine, dug for coal in the black mines on which New Waterford was built. Anything for Kathleen. Anything to keep her away. Kathleen arrived in New York under the supervision of a distant cousin, a taciturn retiree who was unshockable, unquestioning and completely unsuited for chaperoning a young girl in a big city. Alone in New York at the height of the Jazz Age, Kathleen truly found music for the first time. MacDonald paints a mysterious, smokey life for the young woman as she wandered the dark clubs of the Jazz scene, first alone, then with her handsome young lover. Meanwhile, back in New Waterford, the Pipers continued to live their haunted life. We hear the stories of Mercedes and Frances as they approach adulthood, which are nothing short of fascinating. MacDonald moves easily back and forth through time, beginning her tales at the end, using the details to twist and turn and shock the story. Remarkable sexual undercurrents flood the torrid tale of the Piper sisters, one chaste and clean, the other a willing prostitute. Materia grew more and more sullen and refused to speak, retreating into the fantasy world she created during Kathleen's childhood. Another child was born, this time to Kathleen, upon her sudden (and forced) return from New York. The newest child, Lily, was visited by the ghost of her dead twin brother. Even a bloody climax does not serve to finish the saga. In death, more questions remained. Lily is left to walk the last mile with the reader, both literally and figuratively. As she plods on foot to New York with her mother's diary we are kept on the edge of our seat. The details of Kathleen's life there come alive and we learn the name of her lover. The tall, handsome black musician: her name was Rose. It is in the final pages of Kathleen's diary that the parentage of Lily is finally revealed. There are truly many loves that dare not speak their name. One cannot completely describe a story like this one and presume to do it any justice. It is impossible to capture the magic, the mystery, the beauty and the terrible dark secrets that hide such a burning intensity between two lovers in a thousand words or less. MacDonald created an epic worthy of its own musical score; indeed, a reader can hear the swell of the orchestra over the rapidly turning pages. Don't expect to sleep until MacDonald has finished her incredible tale. Rebecca James is an aspiring writer in Rehoboth. She recently began practicing massage locally after completing certification at the Baltimore School of Massage. She may be reached at 226-9685 for more information. |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 10, No. 3, Apr. 7, 2000. |