By Sara Hailstone
With her second published novel, Marianne Jones has presented a story challenging the conventions of what it means to be a woman in northwestern Ontario in the 1980s, especially a minister’s wife, demonstrating just how far women go to connect and reconnect. Published in May 2021 by Crossfield Publishing, a Canadian independent small press, Maud and Me allows readers to navigate the spiritual and emotional depths of the iconic Lucy Maud Montgomery in ways that have not been delved into before. The protagonist, Nicole Leclair, is a middle-aged minister’s wife. Her private struggle with the constraints placed on her by a conservative religious society, as well as what it feels like to be constantly forced into gender constructs and boxes, securely fix the main plotline. The author grew up in Thunder Bay and her personal connection with nature is expressed in the way the protagonist rides out her emotional hardship by grounding herself in nature. The landscape and cliffs of Lake Superior feature stoically in the background of a controlled, unravelling plot.
In following Nicole’s daily repression and the conformity demanded of her as a minister’s wife, the reader is shown in parallel another layer to the humanity of Lucy Maud Montgomery. The public knew about her struggles with her husband’s mental health and the plight of her son, Chester. “I took refuge in doing my duty. It’s remarkable how stable that will keep one through life’s crises. And when my duties became too much, I turned to my imagination."
We, in turn, get to imagine an element of Maud’s emotional fabric that was not present in her own journal writings or her fiction. The depth that Jones delves to sympathizes with both women as wives of ministers and women with artistic passion. "No, what troubled me more was Ewen’s attitude toward my writing. He never read any of my books, never exhibited any interest in my writing, even though it paid for his automobiles and our sons’ education, and many expenses that his salary did not cover. He resented any attention or praise I received for my writing. It hurt deeply, especially since I supported him fully in his work.”
Both Maud and Nicole are artists, whether writing or painting, and they are both quietly struggling with the constructs that religious roles place on them artistically.
The seamless integration of Maud into the events and characterization hints at magic realism. I wonder, even after reading (and perhaps this questioning is also what accentuates the reading experience), at how smoothly Maud’s character fits into the narrative even though I’m not convinced it is believable. Maud fully arrives later in the novel when Nicole is pushed to the edge of her emotional capacity from putting on constant fronts of being okay within an emotionally and socially constricting lifestyle. The relationship evolves and is strained by the humanity and personal essence of both women in confrontation and in connection with each other.
The protagonist challenges Maud in ways we wouldn’t expect a Canadian icon to be made vulnerable; I argue this is a strength of the text and of Jones’s literary skill. Maud stops appearing when Nicole faces the crux of her problems and begins reckoning, organizing, and confronting what is upsetting her. No other characters ever know of Maud’s appearances to Nicole. The narrative point of view does not spend extensive time on justifying or realizing the plausibility of Maud appearing at all. Nicole chalks it up to a hallucination and the encounter resonates with biblical and religious moments she knows others have had with saints and miraculous apparitions. These women are “kindred spirits.” Both “pressed upon by people and their demands, and yet…have no one to really talk to—that was heavy to bear.” They are women in parallel: minister’s wives, artists, women in pain, and women concealing that pain.
There is a saying, The best stories are the ones that never get told. Jones contributes to the creative and literary persona of Maud as a Canadian icon—one in pain and locked in a prison of opiate abuse and mental illness. And another layer is laid down; another element of her story that was not told is imagined. She becomes more real to us than simply a national persona who carefully censored and privately hid the extent of pain she faced every single day.
Thank you to Marianne Jones for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review!