The Outlander, by Gil Adamson

A woman fighting for survival out on the prairies in 1902. Woman vs. rugged Canadian landscape. Uh-oh, you might say, and all the ghosts of “good for you” CanLit past return and shake their chains at you. Except before you pass it over and reach for Breaking  Dawn, there’s one more thing you should know – she just murdered her husband, and she’s fleeing for her life.

And so begins this Canadian historical page turner (thought it was an urban myth? I know, but fellow Canada Reads nominee The Book of Negroes qualifies as well).  You don’t really need to know much more about the plot – although the constant escape thread winds through other interesting sections – surviving in the mountains, pioneer life, and a touching, sensual love story, which is a wonder of narrative pacing and restraint by a first-time novelist.

Although The Outlander has many things to recommend it, what turned out to be my favourite element was this remarkably strong protagonist. She has no particular gifts, no special training, and she survives by her own determination and guile. There are a couple situations where it would have been easy for Adamson to have the hero rescue our heroine in old west style, but she resists, and instead has the widow dig herself out of danger time and time again (which she also has in common with Hill’s heroine, Aminata Diallo, another remarkable female protagonist). Of course the widow is a murdress, and a largely unrepentant one, but since Mary doesn’t agonize much over it, neither do we (thank heavens after too many moral novels lately). Or maybe it’s simply that the twin brothers are so eerily evil (and original villains to boot), that in opposition we must sympathize with the widow’s cause. (And she is always referred to as “the widow” by the narrator, perhaps as an attempt to separate her from her former self, to reflect a new life, but one that is always tainted by her crime.)

It is also a delight when poets write prose, for they never abandon the potent economy of poetry, but just switch to full sentences and a fuller narrative. Since the widow spends most of her time out in nature, it could have been difficult to continually use fresh language and description, but Adamson manages to do so. And it is this beautiful language that raises The Outlander over other pioneer adventure tales (such as Gabaldon’s similarly titled Outlander - though don’t get me wrong, there’s room in my heart for Jamie and Claire’s lusty adventures too). This isn’t a case of putting in the requisite detail to illustrate a scene, but rather the description creates more than a mental picture, it also resonates futher, carrying tone and sometimes reflecting the character. Take this passage from the first page of the book:

“The girl scrambled through ditchwater and bulrushes, desperate to erase her scent. For a perilous moment she dared to stop running, to stand motionless, listening, holding her dark skirts out of the water. In the moonlight, her beautiful face was hollow as a mask, eyes like holes above the smooth cheeks. The booming in her ears faded slowly, and she listened to the night air. No wind through the trees. The frogs had stopped shrilling. No sound except the dripping of her skirts and, far away, the dogs.
Nineteen years old and already a widow. Mary Boulton. Widowed by her own hand.”

(Now, the last couple sentences had nothing to do with the description, but are such a good teaser for the book, I couldn’t resist.) But you can see how that language not only creates a crystal clear image, but embodies the eerie menace that Mary can never fully escape.

A couple final notes. The book’s design is exquisite. While the cover is fairly literal, it is also beautifully balanced and evokes the feel of the old west and the  fugitive. The text design is also gorgeous, and Anansi picked a thick, subtly flecked paper that is perfect for this novel of the wilderness in 1902. Books like this reaffirm their status as objets d’art, and give me confidence that the book is a tecnology that will never be obsolete. And as a final note on the book, let me say, without any spoilers, that Adamson has written the best ending I’ve read in a very long time. In an interview she indicated that she was most satisfied with that part of the book, and she should be, for it is rare to find an ending that concise that manages to play on the novel’s themes, and while casting them in a new light.

So, this being my last novel for Canada Reads 2009 (and the Canada Reads 2009 Challenge), is it the novel that all of Canada should read? I’m not entirely sure yet (wait for my pregame show post for my full comparisons and predictions), but I can say that I would be very happy to see it win. A great read that hasn’t received as much exposure as some of the others, it’s a worthy winner.