Annabel [Paperback]

This book took me to places I didn't know existed. People and the lifestyles in the provinces of Labrador & Newfoundland in Eastern Canada are so different to anything I have ever known, that initially I even wondered what time period the story was set in. It stated clearly that baby Wayne was born in 1968, but the hardship of his parents' life could have easily been a reflection of a 19th century rural life. The descriptions of the landscape, people's mentality, the climate and life in general were so detailed and beautifully written, I really felt that I'd been taken on a journey to a new country.
The characters around Wayne came to life, and I cared for each one, particularly his childhood friend Wally Michelin. Thankfully, the author gives recurring insights into the various characters' lives so that the reader isn't left to wonder what happens to them later on, or why they acted in a certain way; this changing third person narrative worked wonderfully, and even if there wasn't much action in terms of the storyline, the character development was compelling enough, and the very difficult subject matter of a hermaphrodite born into a rural, conservative environment handled sensitively. The book reminded me at times of the movie "Boys don't cry" but without the brutal visuals, and thankfully with a happier ending.

Rose Tremain covered slightly similar territory to this book in her novel, 'Sacred Country'. While that novel portrayed the life of a trans-sexual person, this one tells the story of a child born neither fully male nor female, but both at once.

One of the things that makes this book quite different, though, is that it is set in remote, coastal Labrador, in the far north-east of Canada. The evocation of the ways of life of the trappers and the women in this community is excellent as is the wonderful sense of place. Also brought vividly to life, is the time period (the novel begins in 1968) and this is often done through reference to contemporary television programmes, food products and music: this was the era of 'The Tide is High', Caramel Logs from the sweetshop and the gameshow, 'Truth or Consequences'.

This is a novel about family love and community bonds. About the fierce, unconditional love of a mother for her son, Wayne, who journeys to become her daughter Annabel; the way in which a father, despite the traditional ways of his own upbringing, comes to a redemptive relationship with his child. It is about the power of friendship and reveals the ways in which people can be different from our initial judgement of them. It is haunting and deeply moving.

There are wonderful moments the capture universal experiences, such as this:
'Wayne's sadness over Jacinta was the sadness all sons and daughters feel when their ferry starts moving and the parent stands on the dock, waving and growing tiny. A sadness that stings, then melts in a fresh wind.'

One character, Thomasina, who travels to Europe and beyond, represents the wider world and it's sensibilities impinging on the smaller world of a remote community. The city of St. John's in Newfoundland, symbolises for both Wayne-Annabel and his mother a place of greater freedom, somewhere that lives in memory or becomes a wider world where new beginnings become possible.

This is an extraordinarily accomplished and mature debut novel. It has just recently been short-listed for the Orange Prize for fiction. If it were to make the Booker shortlist too, I think my money would be on it!

The plot concerns a child born in Canada in 1968, described as a hermaphrodite, though the term we would probably use now is intersex. The woman who delivers the baby, Thomasina, is a key character in the book. Although the baby's gender is assigned as male and he is christened Wayne, Thomasina secretly gives him the additional name of Annabel after her recently-drowned daughter. When her baby is deemed to be a boy, Wayne's mother, Jacinta, feels that she too has lost a daughter, and her grief mirrors that of Thomasina's. Jacinta goes into a slow decline and Thomasina goes travelling to come to terms with her own loss, turning into some kind of free-spirited supply teacher who dips in and out of Wayne's life.

The characters are well described, especially Treadway, Wayne's father, a decent, hard-working man struggling to come to terms with something beyond his experience or understanding. His efforts to shore up Wayne's masculinity are poignant though ill advised.

The book is generally well written, but after a while I began to tire of the Kathleen Winter's faux wisdom and impenetrable philosophical musings.

This is Thomasina when she delivers Jacinta's baby.

`It was as the baby latched on to Jacinta's breast that Thomasina caught sight of something slight, flower-like; one testicle had not descended, but there was something else. She waited the eternal instant that women wait when a horror jumps out at them. It is an instant that men do not use for waiting, an instant that opens a door to life or death. Women look through the opening because something might be alive in there.'

What the ...? There are lots of passages like this. For example this comes at the very end (not a spoiler I hope).

`Only in wind over the land did Treadway find the freedom his son would seek elsewhere.Treadway was a man of Labrador, but his son had left home as daughters and sons do, to seek freedom their fathers do not need to inhabit, for it inhabits the fathers.'

Just a bit too metaphorical for my taste. This new-age tone impinges on the plot providing a few unconvincing episodes. Treadway isn't told that there is an issue with the new baby. After a few days he intuits it using his natural wisdom and one-ness with nature, without even needing to look more closely, let alone give his son a quick once over under the babygrow.

The stress of conflicting responses to their son causes a major fissure in Treadway and Jacinta's marriage, though up until then they were well-enough matched: `His underclothes were of ewe's wool. When they made love she climaxed every time...' Sometimes these little nuggets made it seem like she was channelling Annie Proulx.

Wayne has a confused and troubling adolescence but his naivety is astonishing. He interprets his father's explanation of the facts of life as a penis escaping from a man's pyjamas of its own accord and somehow migrating over the other side of the bed to find the woman's genitals. Maybe this might work for a five year old but not for a child in Year Seven already developing breasts. Also, does his latent femininity have to be portrayed through yearning for beautiful prom dresses? It seemed a bit obvious. Maybe I just think this because those girly longings largely bypassed me when I was a teenager.

This is a sympathetic portrayal of gender variance. I really wanted to like it but its tone defeated me. I am perhaps a bit unfair giving it only three stars but her musings on the human condition were irritating. It could have been an infinitely better book if she had underplayed the Writer-as-Wise-Woman. Its best feature is probably the setting. Winter has a feel for the landscape and people of Labrador. Overall, rewarding but deeply flawed.