The Carpathians - University of British Columbia

Clark sensitively reexamines being female
and a writer during the modernist period
and eloquently continues her thesis to the
study of feminist discourse today .
For example, Clark refers to current feminists
Hélène Cixous and Luce Irigaray,
whose views differ, but represent "a similar
hope of joining feminism and the avantgarde
in a literary practice that would rupture
the phallogocentricity of language
from within the discourse of the Western
tradition." We are left with unresolved
questions about "écriture féminine" and
the modernist reaction against sentimintal
female writing. However, Suzanne Clark
illustrates effectively, through the style of
her book as well as that of the female writers
she studies, the dialogism in literary texts.
The Morning After
Sean Stewart
Nobody's Son. Maxwell MacMillan $15.95
(cloth)/$io.95 (paper)
Reviewed by J. Kieran Kealy
All begins quite predictably. Shielder's
Mark, an awkward, illiterate commoner
who has been abandoned by his father, is
about to complete his quest to break the
evil spell that hovers over the Red Keep. He
has "no magic sword, no giant's arm, no
pack of tools," just his courage, dogged perseverance
and natural cunning. But this, not
surprisingly, is enough, as this stereotypic
"little man" rather effortlessly accomplishes
what Swangard's greatest heroes have failed
to accomplish: he breaks the spell and claims
the magical sword that validates his feat.
His task accomplished, Mark rides away to
claim his heritage, his happily-ever-after.
And all of this occurs in one chapter. Unfortunately
for Mark, it is the first chapter.
It soon becomes apparent that Sean
Stewart's newest novel, Nobody's Son, is not
to be another stereotypic fairy tale. Rather,
his tale begins when Shielder's Mark discovers
what a "bloody joke" happily-everafter
stories can be. His return to Swangard
evokes not a royal welcome but disdain, as
the court refuses to recognize this shaggy,
unkempt, uncouth commoner. Though the
king must ultimately grant him the one
wish his accomplishment traditionally
deserves, the hand of his daughter, Princess
Gail, he does so grudgingly. And to make
matters worse, this is not an ordinary
princess. She is not tall, willowy and
golden-tressed; rather she is short, stocky,
opinionated and fiercely independent,
clearly a woman who has little affinity with
the Sleeping Beauties and Snow Whites
who traditionally fulfil such a role.
Shielder's Mark's breaking of the Red
Keep's spell, it soon becomes apparent, is
but a brief prologue to the real quest this
hero must face, that of becoming a man, of
discovering an identity, of proving that
there is a place for one who, like him, is
"nobody's son."
Initially he must simply learn the intricacies
of being a gentleman. More important,
he must contend with the political intrigue
that necessarily surrounds one who is suddenly
a contender for the throne. And
finally, he must face the demons that all
men face: "grief, age, death, abandonment,
hollowness and desolation." He must learn
to accept his fallibility, his mortality, and
realize that all eventually will turn to ashes.
Clearly Stewart has chosen to challenge
and redefine traditional expectations. This
is not to be a Tolkenian conflict between
good and evil; rather it is an existential
drama in which man must face and learn to
accept his limitations. Stewart's characters
refuse to accept stereotypic boundaries
and, as a result, become breathing, clearly
individualized characters. His princess
refuses to allow expectations to define her;
in particular she refuses to consummate
her marriage lest she be placed in the cage
of motherhood.