Some Trees Will Bend, Some Will Fall

In the end, history repeats itself.

However, not in the way I had expected. Toward the end of the novel, I found myself thinking that either Carl was going to kill Fred or Fred was going to kill Carl or one of them would kill themselves. There was so much anger, tension, and self-pity built up around these two characters, that disaster seemed imminent.

I was thrown for a loop when in the final pages, a devious plan was concocted by Adam, who up until this point had seemed completely innocuous. His love for Elizabeth had been transferred to Carl and he could no longer stand by and watch Carl's life fall apart. In a cooly calculated and bold manner, he reinacted the night of Elizabeth's death -- only this time, he was at the wheel instead of Carl and Fred was his passenger. He had meticulously planned every last detail to ensure his crime appeared to be an accident and left everything he had to Carl and Lizzie. In the ultimate sacrifice, he committed suicide and murder by running his car into a tree.

After Adam's passing, Carl discovers that Adam was his father, through a letter Adam has left for him. I wonder if now Carl will be able to start his life again, knowing that he is no longer tied to the fate of his father? Or will he suspect this accident was in fact a crime, committed on his behalf, and be once again crippled by guilt and grief? Will he be able to outrun his tragic history, or be tied down forever?

We are left to wonder....

And so, I will close with this song, which ponders the future noting "some trees will bend and some will fall, but then again, so will us all." Click below to hear "In a Future Age" by Wilco.

Characters Come to Life

As I am nearing the end of the book, the characters have begun to reveal much more about themselves to me. For instance at the beginning of the novel, Fred Verghoers, Chrissy's new boyfriend, seems like a stand-up guy: he runs a successful business, has a happy family with Chrissy and Lizzie and is running for Reeve of the town next year. However, we just learned that in fact, he beats Chrissy and he attacks Carl in the parking lot of the shopping center, leaving him for dead.

Meanwhile, Adam, whom most people believed to be homosexual, was in fact having an illicit relationship with Elizabeth for several years before she cut him off and has since been tortured by his love for her, even after her death.

It seems that Carl is in fact capable of turning his life around, and he has become a model father with a prospective career in the insurance business. And Luke Richardson, seen as the town weasel, may actually have honest intentions afterall, as he tries to set things straight between Fred and Carl.

As someone who truly enjoys a character driven story, I have developed a strong appreciation for Elizabeth and After. As I have mentioned many times in this novel response, I believe that the characters in this novel are so strong (along with the incredible descriptive passages about scenes and emotion), that it would be a great story for a film adaptation.

Click here to view a .pdf of the poster I created for the film.

If I were casting this film, below are some actors who would be my top choices for playing the character of West Gull. I'd choose Jason Reitman, a Canadian whose credits include the award winning, character driven film Juno to direct the film.

Christopher Plummer (a Canadian) as Old William McKelvey:

Tom Welling as Young William McKelvey:

Meryl Streep as an Older Elizabeth McKelvey:

Anna Kendrick as a Young Elizabeth McKelvey:

Jake Gyllenhaal as Carl McKelvey:

Holly Hunter as Chrissy McKelvey:

Christoper Waltz as Adam Goldsmith:

Randy Quaid as Luke Richardson:

Like Father Like Son

The tension is killing me! I'm about half way through the novel now, and the amount of foreshadowing (or what I perceive to be foreshadowing) is building so much anticipation (or dread!) that I can hardly put the book down.

Earlier, in Part two, we heard the story of Elizabeth and William's first date. William took Elizabeth to the cemetery where his mother is buried, before brining her home to his drunken father, whom they found chasing a chicken around the yard. Now, in Part 3, Carl (Elizabeth and William's son) has a new love interest - Moira. And where does he take her on their first date? To visit his Mother's grave, where he proceeds to pour his heart out to her and tell the tale of how he killed his mother (WOW - I didn't see that coming either) by driving her into a tree. Until this point, I had no idea that it was Carl who had been driving the night his mother was killed. No wonder he is drowning in regret! And here I thought his doubts and self pity had all been caused by his high school love gone sour.

And so, at this point, I can't help but wonder if Carl and Moira are destined to the same fate as Elizabeth and William were - a long unhappy marriage full of lies and doubt. What sort of lies, you might ask?

Well, another revelation has come about in the story. It was revealed in chapter two of part two that Adam and Elizabeth had an intimate encounter on New Year's Eve in 1975. In September of 1976, Carl was born. I wonder...could Carl be Adam's son? Earlier in this chapter, I had wondered if there could be some impending connection between Carl and Adam, for Elizabeth's affections towards Adam had been growing steadily. Now, although Elizabeth claims that Carl is William's son, I can't help but think there are many secrets that will soon be revealed.

If Adam is Carl's father, Carl needs to know! Currently, a large portion of Carl's self-pity lays in the fact that he perceives his fate to be set in stone. His father was a drunken fighter, as was his grandfather, so he shall be. However, if he were to discover that his father was a successful, albeit socially awkward, businessman, could be break free from his self-imposed death sentence?

At this point in the movie that has been playing in my mind, the song "The Funeral" by Band of Horses is playing on the soundtrack. It seems as though the one thing Carl and Adam do have in common is that things in their life keep going wrong and they seem tied to their fate...and at this point in the book it seems like they are both waiting for the next funeral. The only question is, who's? Click below to listen.

A Letter from Uncle Walt

In chapter one of part 2, we learn more about Elizabeth McKelvey, her family and her upbringing. Her parents, Louis and Lillian Glade, saw the world from a very unique point of view and they treasurered their daughter as if she were a porcelain doll. Louis and Lillian had a strange obsession with British Royal Family, to the point where her father tracked their every move, keeping scrapbooks of newspaper clippings and photographs. In particular, they loved Princess Elizabeth, who was in line to be Queen. Hence, they named their only child Elizabeth.

In describing her childhood to Adam Goldsmith, she tells him of the day her father died. It was October 18th, 1951, and Princess Elizabeth was visiting Canada. Louis was telling his family about her visit that day to an egg farm in Sarnia, ON, when he keeled over and died of a heart attack at the dinner table.

This incident stands as a turning point in Elizabeth’s life. The chain of events that follows leads up to Elizabeth’s mother moving to Chicago leaving Elizabeth completely alone in Kingston. Having been caudled and protected her entire life, she soon meets a wild and free spirited William McKelvey, and ironically ends up the wife of an egg farmer. However, this point stuck me for another significant reason. My father’s Uncle Walt was an egg farmer in Sarnia, and if I remember correctly, this visit by Princess Elizabeth is in fact a true story. I called my sister, a historian who happens to be the Director of the Lambton County Archives, to confirm. She sent me several photos of people in Sarnia preparing for the arrival of Princess Elizabeth in Sarnia on October 18th, 1951, (below) along with photos of my Uncle Walt’s egg farm (above).



"Children from the Sarnia area will see Princess Elizabeth." A photo from the archives of the Sarnia Observer. Dated October 13th, 1951.



"The 26th Battery of the 31st Field Regiment will meet Princess Elizabeth." A photo from the archives of the Sarnia Observer. Dated October 13th, 1951.

Using those images as inspiration, I imagined that my Great Uncle Walt was an aquaintance of Louis Glade, and that he wrote a letter about the Royal visit. The letter was mailed on the day Louis died, and Elizabeth received it several days later.

Click on the image below to download the letter.

The Gleaners of West Gull

In part 1, the story reads like a run on sentence – a runaway train of thought full of pity and regret. I wonder how Carl will ever dig himself out of this hole. It’s funny that Carl buried Ned in a hole up to his neck, because it seems like everyone in this story is up to his neck in regret. It’s so depressing, I wish I could get a shovel and dig them all out!

In part 2, the writing becomes more formal. We are now hearing the story from a place that is further removed from the characters. Whereas in part 1 I felt a strong affinity towards Carl and his situation, now I just see myself as a spectator off in the distance, uninvolved with any of the characters or events being described. However, despite this distance, I am finding the story of Elizabeth (Carl’s mother) and Adam (her lover) to be much more interesting and involved than the puppy love turned to obsession story of Carl and Chrissy. There is more drama, more intrigue, and the author does a better job of creating some mystery and suspense. What is going to happen between these two? Where is this story leading us? Could there be more than what meets the eye to this relationship between these outwardly bookish couple? The story is suddenly less familiar and yet somehow more real.




I am finding more and more that Cohen's story telling is reminiscent of French realist painting – the spectator is far removed from the people in the scene, and the scene itself is very close to the viewer's everyday experiences. It’s building the same sense of understanding and empathy that the great painters such as Jean Francois Millet mastered. When Millet started painting everyday subjects such as gleaners (people who would harvest the scraps from the wheat field in order to survive), the art world was shocked that a painter would give such consideration to a lowly peasant. Until this time, all large scale works of art were dedicated solely to the genres of history painting, royalty, and battle scenes. When Millet unveiled his painting, the Gleaners in 1857, he brought attention to the underbelly of French society. Millet focused on poverty, a subject matter that was based on real life for the majority of the French population – something familiar. With this work of art, the genre of French Realism was born and there was a momentous shift amongst painters to focus on the common everyday aspects of life.

Today, the boundaries of art and literature are almost endless. However, while reading Elizabeth and After I still find myself thinking of Millet and his Gleaners. Cohen has brought to life the everyday mundane and yet dramatic aspects of a small town. I am sure that there are characters like Carl and Chrissy and Elizabeth and Adam in small towns scattered throughout Southwestern Ontario. The people and events are not overly spectacular or uncommon, but real and familiar.

A West Gull Photo Album

Click the image above to view a .pdf the photo album I created about West Gull.

There are two things happening simultaneously in my mind as I read further into this novel, ripe with the tragedy of people who believe they have no control over their own destiny. First, I am realizing exactly how depressing the story is. Not exactly putting me in the holiday spirit! Second, I'm continually reflecting on my own family history in a small town in Ontario.

Cohen paints such a realistic picture of Carl, Elizabeth, Chrissy, Fred, William, Luke, and Adam, whom all seem to believe that they are stuck with what the world dealt them. It's as if leaving West Gull would be like falling off the end of the earth for them -- they have no drive to pull themselves up out of their cycles of depression, alcoholism, fighting, gossiping and poverty. Instead, they wallow in their grief, and place the blame on their neighbors while pretending to be their friends.

In all of this, I find myself putting faces to names, from my family tree. I imagine that their family photo album would look something like mine, so I created the above photo album using photos from my family tree.

Meanwhile, once again I'm finding that the music I'm listening to while reading is influencing my opinions of the book. So, I'll continue on the idea that this book would make a fantastic film, and add to my growing soundtrack for that film with the song below. The song is called "I am Part of a Large Family" by the Great Lake Swimmers, a band from Wainfleet, ON.

Well, I Was Born in a Small Town...

Listening to the description of Carl’s return to West Gull, I am reminded of the many homecomings that I’ve had to my own small town after a prolonged absence.

“There was a new sign at the edge of town, West Gull, population 684" You notice every little new thing about a place once so familiar, and because most things have stayed the same, you assume that the people living there have also remained the same. However, much like Carl, I am often surprised to see how many things have changed.

Cohen is a generous writer – he will give a simple moment between two people the space of two pages to live in. Describing every little detail, movement and thought with great care. He allows the reader to wallow in that moment for a few minutes, provoking me to relate the experiences of Chrissy and Carl to the sacred moments from my own life when time seems to stand still and every detail is somehow magnified in my memory – those meetings with my first love after returning from living abroad for several years. Returning home to see him standing in front of me, drinking me in. Every word is etched in my mind and the touch of his hand burned into my skin.

Cohen’s words make the reader feel everything that Carl is feeling, from the emptiness to the regret, to the fear and anger. Hearing about his depressing life somehow simultaneously makes me feel sadness, sorry and empathy for him. We’ve all been in Carl’s place at somepoint in life, and hearing about his sorrows make me wonder about all those people I grew up with, and if they’re still in that place today.

Many of my friends from home live in a place that is bleak and unchanging like West Gull seems to be. A place where small people have great power and where the only source of entertainment comes in the form of a bottle of booze. While surely there is happiness and joy in places like the farm towns of Lambton County, each time I go home I can’t help but notice all the little things that people do to feed that craving inside of them that Cohen describes Carl experiencing:

The craving he had was like a wound. A line drawn by a knife through his flesh and soul. Everything had fled the sharp steel. Sometimes the yearning hunger grew more raw with every breath and if he tried to breathe deeply the knifeline opened so wide he felt dizzy. (Cohen 28)

I once felt this craving and it lead me to take off, to get out of my little town to find something fresh where things weren’t all the same. Where everyone didn’t know everyone else’s business, where I was just me in that moment, and not the me that came with all the preconveied ideas of who I was that had been formed over the past 29 years. Not the me that people related to my parents, who also grew up in my small town, who went to my highschool, and who were known for being this or that.
Meanwhile in my hometown people still say “Oh, you’re a McBeth…are you Hick’s granddaughter? I knew your aunts, didn’t one of them have a baby when she was a teenager? And your other cousin, didn’t he marry a Cadieux? Those Cadieuxs, they sure rule this town. You grew up next door to the Bramham’s, right? Did you hear that Rick is in jail now? I used to date this guy who used to date your friend back in highschool. Now he’s married to your mom’s best friend’s son, they have a little girl and she goes to preschool with my sister’s daughter…” What ever happened to that saying we used to use in elementary school – MYOB!

When Carl returns to his hometown he experiences a similar feeling that everyone thinks that can place judgement on him by who his family is and by the things he did when he was back in highschool. People assume they know what kind of person he is, neglecting to realize that he could have changed, just like the town itself has changed.

At this point in the novel I am still very much on Carl’s side, hoping that he’s going to make the right decisions to get his life back together.

In the meantime, I can't get this John Mellencamp song out of my head! Add this to the soundtrack.

Small Town by John Mellencamp

Well I was born in a small town
And I live in a small town
Prob`ly die in a small town
Oh, those small communities

All my friends are so small town
My parents live in the same small town
My job is so small town
Provides little opportunity

Educated in a small town
Taught the fear of Jesus in a small town
Used to daydream in that small town
Another boring romantic that`s me

But I`ve seen it all in a small town
Had myself a ball in a small town
Married an L.A. doll and brought her to this small town
Now she`s small town just like me

No I cannot forget where it is that I come from
I cannot forget the people who love me
Yeah, I can be myself here in this small town
And people let me be just what I want to be

Got nothing against a big town
Still hayseed enough to say
Look who`s in the big town
But my bed is in a small town
Oh, and that`s good enough for me

Well I was born in a small town
And I can breathe in a small town
Gonna die in this small town
And that`s prob`ly where they`ll bury me

Something Familiar

There is a soundtrack playing in my ears as I sit on the train travelling across South across Ontario towards my tiny hometown, wondering if these are the same farmlands dotted with dilapidated barns that are being described in Elizabeth and After. Sufjan Stevens sings to me songs about the landscapes of the Midwest as Cohen’s words echo his evocative descriptions.

Cohen's descriptions are so vivid that I find myself wondering if anyone has considered adapting this novel to film? If they did, this song would certainly be part of the soundtrack. Click below to listen to the song. Don't you agree?

The West Gull Cemetery announces itself with a twenty-foot-high stone archway of quarries limestone. Its gates are black wrought iron wth silver tips and fittings, and the matching fence stretches hundreds of yards along the highway. Located on a high and windswept plateau, it offers a unique view and flattering perspective on Long Gull Lake, the town of West Gull itself and the rich surrounding farmland. Even a stranger would be impressed…she passed through the archway, drifted a palm along the silky-slick surface of the limestone, stepped gingerly onto the moist dense grass. (Cohen 1)

Is that the same place where I grew up? Cohen’s descriptions are so rich, so vivid, that I can’t help but see them playing in front of me.

On the day of the funeral, Long Gull Lake was a distant stretch of snow dotted with fishing huts merging into the grey sky. The town, so picturesque in summer, was just a jumble of metal and asphalt roofs, columns of smoke rising straight into the still air. The fertile farmland was a barren waste with a few clusters of houses and barns. (Cohen 2)

Already, I am sifting through my iPhoto album, looking for images that fit these descriptions. But quickly, these pastoral scenes turn dark as they become stained with foreshadowed tragedy in this sleepy town, and we realize that the story that follows is about those left reeling from this woman’s presence.

Nothing was said about the blood in the snow but there was a lot ¬– more than you would think a body could hold. In some places it had clotted into frozen puddles, in others it was scattered in long splotched whips like scarlet maple taffy. (Cohen 3)