A tale of love, deception, and betrayal unfolds against the backdrop of the 1837 rebellion in Upper Canada.
In rural Scotland in the 1830s, fifteen-year-old Callandra is devastated by her father’s unexpected death. To save her family from destitution, she reluctantly agrees to marry Norbert Scott, a clergyman from a wealthy Glasgow family. But when her new husband and family turn out to be cruel and disdainful toward her, Callandra’s only solace in their cold, cavernous mansion is her close friendship with a household servant, Lottie.
Callandra faces more personal upheaval when her husband accepts a posting as a clergyman in the remote town of Goderich in Upper Canada. Thankfully, Lottie will accompany them to their new home, but so will her brother Sam, a carpenter whom Callandra mistrusts. After a perilous journey, they are greeted warmly by the townsfolk of Goderich, who are particularly delighted when their new pastor stands up for them in defiance of the hated colonial authorities.
But an unintentional lie spins into a web of deceit. As the sparks of rebellion flare, there are growing suspicions about the town’s charismatic new clergyman that threaten to destroy the fragile happiness Callandra has unexpectedly found.
Described as ‘Canada’s Michael Moore’ by the country’s National Post, Linda McQuaig is an award-winning investigative reporter and columnist for the Toronto Star. She is the author of seven Canadian bestsellers, which have earned her a reputation as a fierce critic of the establishment.
I received this book from Netgalley in exchange for a fair review.
While a little rough in some aspects, The Road to Goderich is nonetheless an engaging Canadian historical fiction that moves at a good pace.
I live in southern Ontario, and when I was a kid, I went camping every year for a week or two at Point Farms provincial park right outside Goderich, and I've also stayed in the town at various B&Bs in the area and along the Huron Coast. I plan on retiring there when I'm old. Because I love the area, I jumped on a book that featured it. Very disappointing to me was that there really isn’t much actually about the town/landscape, aside from a few things here and there, as it’s more a setting to feature the action than a true extrapolation into the area itself. For example, while there is mention of Tiger Dunlop in passing (a leading figure in the Canada Company who had developed the area around lake Huron; there’s a trail named after him that I’ve walked many times) he doesn’t feature in the story at all, nor does the Rebellion of 1837, really. There’s a lot of talk about why people wanted the rebellion, but we don’t really get the Rebellion itself aside from a mention near the end. To be clear, this wasn’t actually a big deal, given that the book is focused on Callandra, who wouldn’t have been involved in the action regardless, and it did show how regular people were impacted by the politics of the day. We get absolutely no mention of the amazing bluffs or Lake Huron, which was a real shame.
Callandra herself is a good character. She is too loyal to her family and struggles against the society she’s in. The book does a great job showing how and why women, even if they were exposed to stuff like women’s rights via books and pamphlets, often could or would not do anything to further it. Callandra, above all else, is an ordinary woman who just wants to live her life with a modicum of self-determination. She makes a choice at the start of the book that is based on a mix of altruism/social pressure, which haunts her the rest of her days.
The book also makes her husband, Norbert, out to be a real loser, which was helpful in driving sympathy for Callandra. Sam, the secondary male character, is interesting because while the book is third person, we don’t really get his perspective; this adds to a twist at the end of the story which, I will admit, felt more like it came out of nowhere than was hinted at throughout. As such, it had me confused more than surprised, because I was like “does that really track with said character’s personality?” Likewise, something happens at one point that the reader is privy to but later is revealed to have happened differently than described, which made it feel sort of shoehorned in and unnecessary.
Now, the storyline does move at a great clip, especially for a historical fiction, with an interesting “cover-up story” that adds tension and a forbidden romance subplot. It takes a while to build, but it’s more about “how will they make this work” vs “will it happen.” I found it very easy to follow and I was invested in the characters and how they would make their new life work. I was quite drawn into the story and enjoyed it.
The writing could have used some tightening, though. There’s a lot of passive writing and telling and not showing in the novel. Those sentences could have been reworked to be less didactic and more immersive. So many “She felt this” “she felt that” etc.
This has nothing to do with the book as it stands, but the book is woefully bereft of any mention of the Indigenous peoples of the Huron Track area. Especially during this time, when the federal government was trying to populate “Upper Canada” with colonists, the Attawandaron and Anishinaabe peoples would have been in the area, and the book does not mention how their lands were stolen or how the building of roads or farms would have impacted their lifestyle. Of course, the book isn’t about Indigenous peoples, but it seemed odd to me that they were never mentioned by anyone in the book. According to very quick research I did (no, not ChatGPT, I have integrity), by 1846 (less than ten years after this book is set), Goderich had around 1200 people, so up until that point they had to be still trading with the indigenous bands quite a bit, meaning there was likely no way Callanda couldn’t have at least heard of them, yet no mention is made. Quite frankly, writing a historical fiction and not mentioning the Indigenous peoples of the region feels like a missed opportunity to circumvent assumptions about the interaction of the colonists and indigenous peoples at the time. Especially in Canada.
Anyway, the book is an enjoyable social historical fiction that has a few faults, but overall is engaging and keeps you reading.
The Road to Goderich by Linda McQuaig is an interesting historical fiction that takes us across international waters during the 19th century.
This is definitely a different and unique novel in that its setting focuses on not just Scotland in the early/mid 1800s, but also the lives of those trying to find a livelihood in Canada at that time.
There is a lot of drama, emotions, and angst, and some historical detail, but I could used more. The setting could have really been a character all unto itself.
It seemed to be a quick read, but for some reason after I finished, I still felt as if I needed a bit more.
3.5/5 stars
Thank you EW and Dundurn Press for this wonderful arc and in return I am submitting my unbiased and voluntary review and opinion.
I am posting this review to my GR and Bookbub accounts immediately and will post it to my Amazon, Instagram, and B&N accounts upon publication on 7/15/25.
2.5 My main quarrel with this book is that the blurb gives most of the plot away! Instead of being curious about what would happen next, I found myself just looking out for milestones and ticking them off mentally. The only uncharted waters came in the final 30% or so!
Story and Cadence: 🍁 The language was modern which made reading this a breeze. The pace is good and I finished the book in two days. 🍁 Storytelling was telling-heavy, almost reportage in some places. It made me feel like I was reading a non-fiction at times and made me want to verify some of the terms and stuff. 🍁 I didn’t like the head-hopping in the close third person. 🍁 The passage of time was inconsistent and confusing, particularly once we get to Canada: what felt like days passing were claimed to be years, which didn’t make sense with the timeline and kept pulling me out of the story trying to reorient myself.
Characters, Setting, and Atmosphere: 🍁 The characters were pretty wooden. Callandra and Sam were 2024 transplants. Norbert and his mother were cartoon villains (all the antagonists were simply “bad”, there was no complexity or depth to them whatsoever). On the other hand, characters like Lottie had no depth either, just “good”. Blair was a creep and it was kinda gross how Callandra was egging him on out of self-interest. 🍁 Many of the character motivations made no sense to me (Did they seriously think they were going to get away with Why didn’t Callandra just leave Goderich, like, after or multiple times thereafter?! Rosalee was all over the show in terms of actions, as was Jones.) 🍁 I was disappointed by the weak sense of place. I grew up up the Lake Huron coast from Goderich and now live in West Coast Scotland - neither the Scotland or Canadian places felt developed and I wasn’t transported like I’d hoped I’d be! 🍁 Personally, I didn’t like how was used as a plot device for a last minute “gotcha”.
Writing and Presentation: 🍁 Some of the dialogue felt stilted and unnatural. 🍁 The ending felt rushed and deeply unsatisfying after the journey we made to get there. Any semblance of characterization or plot seems to kinda go off the rails. The thing surprised me but it made the whole story fall pretty flat, emotionally; it also brought in more questions about the latter’s motivations for this reader. 🍁 Consistency issues: author uses both “Glasgow University” and “University of Glasgow” - the latter is correct. I’m not a historian and didn’t investigate some of the things that made me go “hmmm” but there were a few (maybe it’s accurate but the use of “Head Office” for the church thing didn’t feel like an early 1800s term). 🍁 The book layout is beautifully presented from a design perspective.
Ultimately, I don’t regret giving this a go. I have a soft spot for books set in Ontario and Scotland - and this has both! But, I’m not sure I’d recommend it on the whole. In addition to the above, it’s a very bleak story and it’s one that you’d want to make sure you were in the right headspace to read before picking it up.
I had my request to review this book approved by Dundurn Press on NetGalley.
This is a solidly written, authentically Canadian, historical fiction, covering the same broad topics of social justice and inequality as Ms. McQuaig is known for in her non-fiction (of which I am a particular fan).
It reads a little too much like Alias Grace meets Susanna Moodie meets Catherine Parr Traill meets The Massey Murder.
I had hoped that the 1837 Upper Canada Rebellion would figure more in this than it did - if only to set it apart from the above titles.
I wish also that the author - and the editor - had resisted the temptation to wrap everything up neatly in a little bow in the Epilogue.
Thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for granting me access to an early digital review copy.
A rather engrossing book, based in Canada during the 1837 rebellion in Upper Canada. Love, betrayal, rumours, suspicions. Friendship gone awry. Didn't see the ending coming! A Canadian author who I thought I'd like to read again, however I can only see non-fiction, of a political nature as other books. Hoping that the success of this book compels her to write another fiction!
It is a poignant and beautifully atmospheric historical novel set against the backdrop of Upper Canada in the 1830s. It opens in rural Scotland, where we meet Callandra, a spirited young woman whose sense of duty to her struggling family leads her into an arranged marriage with a clergyman she does not love. When the couple emigrates to Canada for his pastoral posting, Callandra’s world expands and complicates in ways she never imagined. McQuaig excels at bringing to life the harsh and hopeful landscapes of early Canadian settlement, capturing both the promise of the New World and its deep-rooted inequalities. As Callandra begins to question the roles prescribed to her by marriage and society, her journey becomes not just geographic but also deeply personal and political. At the heart of the novel is her bond with Lottie, her former maid turned confidante, whose sudden illness forces her to remain behind in Toronto. The painful distance between them grows when Lottie’s long-held secret comes to light, testing the limits of friendship and trust. What unfolds is a story not only of misunderstanding but of resilience, sacrifice, and the early rumblings of feminist and workers’ rights movements in colonial Canada. McQuaig, known for her journalistic rigor, brings impressive research to bear without ever losing the emotional thread of her narrative. The result is a richly textured portrait of two women navigating love, loyalty, and rebellion in a world where the rules are made by—and for—men. A quietly powerful novel, The Road to Goderich is both intimate and expansive, offering readers a moving reflection on the costs of silence and the courage it takes to demand more.
I was given access to this ARC via Edelweiss & am very grateful! I had larger hopes for this one. Loved the concept, as I always enjoy books that are set in history in Ontario. But, this one fell flat. There were too many details that shouldn’t be in the book, and that made me angry. I often skipped pages to the next chapter just to finish talking about that one thing, and found that the story hadn’t changed much even though I skipped pages.
This is such a great concept for a book, I just wish there were more interesting themes throughout! Also, being from Ontario, I didn’t find that there was a lot of imagery of the place, and that would have been nice to include!
In Scotland in the 1830s, fifteen-year-old Callandra reluctantly agrees to marry Norbert Scott, a wealthy Presbyterian clergyman. Since she acquiesces only to save her family from destitution and since Norbert is emotionally cruel, it is not a happy marriage. Callandra’s only solace is her friendship with Lottie, a household servant. Then Norbert accepts a post in Goderich in Upper Canada. Their daughter Emma, Lottie, and Lottie’s brother Sam, a carpenter hired to build the church in Goderich, are to accompany them.
In an accident enroute to Goderich, Norbert drowns. Sam is mistaken for the long-awaited clergyman and he and Callandra and Emma decide to continue the deceit. Things start to unravel especially when Sam, a charismatic young man and natural leader, supports a rebellion against the elitists in control of Upper Canada.
There are events that stretch credibility. Callandra and Sam decide to deceive the entire community on the basis of a misunderstanding?! They give no thought to the possible consequences. They actually think that the truth will not be discovered in time? And the Presbyterian congregants accept a preacher who does not preach? Surely, Sam would have made some effort to familiarize himself further with the Bible and the rituals of worship, yet there’s no mention of him trying to educate himself in spiritual matters.
There are other problematic events. Rosalee can’t read but knows about “the silly book about women that [Callandra] was always reading.” Sam’s decision to accompany Callandra to Ethan’s farm is never explained; it’s just an obvious plot device to force the two together. When Emma inadvertently blurts out a secret, Blair doesn’t react and only in passing thinks of “the strange comments of the little girl”? Given Blair’s interest in speaking with Sam, what Emma says should have resulted in a dramatic reaction. The part of the trial with its revelations about a cabin seems unnatural and contrived. And then there’s the manipulation of the reader: we are mislead about events involving O’Reilly. Finally, there’s a lack of clarity about the passage of time which causes some confusion.
The character of Callandra is interesting. She’s a spirited young woman who struggles against the constraints faced by women who had little self-agency. Her love for and loyalty to her family has her willing to sacrifice her own happiness. But she is not a perfect person. Whereas she is largely a convincing character, the same cannot be said of Norbert. He is cold and arrogant; he has no love even for his daughter. Even in death, his selfishness comes to the fore. Callandra admits, “he was cruel right up to the end, showing no concern for anyone but himself.” He comes across as a cartoon villain – and much the same can be said for his mother and other characters as well.
The book’s style suggests non-fiction rather than fiction. There’s certainly a lot of telling versus showing. Obviously the author did a lot of research into the Upper Canada Rebellion, but the historical details weigh down the narrative. And given the focus of the story on relationships, a lot of the information is actually not needed.
I did appreciate the romantic twists which come as a surprise but are foreshadowed, but I found the book’s weak characterization and heavy-handed narration style off-putting.
Note: I received an eARC from the publisher via NetGalley.
The Road to Goderich is a story about love, heartbreak, survival, and redemption. As the oldest child in a large family, Callandra soon finds herself in a no-win situation after her father's untimely death. Without him, they will not be able to sustain their farm. A visiting minister delivers the eulogy for the father who has passed away. Taking an interest in the eldest daughter, Callandra, he proposes to Callandra's mother that he marry Callandra. In exchange, he would continue to pay for the family's farm lease. Callandra was mortified when the minister proposed to her. Callandra already had a deep affection for someone, and he was nothing to behold. She begs her mother not to force her to marry him. Fortunately, her mother agrees. Due to her family's needs, Callandra has a change of heart and marries Mr. Scott. In addition to being a clergyman, Mr. Scott comes from a wealthy family. Callandra is treated harshly by the Scotts after the wedding. Life becomes very difficult and lonely for Callandra. Due to his stuttering and pouty appearance, Norbert did not find much favor in his father's eyes. He found favor only in his mother's eyes, who caudled him. Except for traveling clergy work, he had no real job. As a husband, he was abusive and hateful to Callandra. After hearing about the need for clergy in backwoods Canadian providences, Norbert thinks this might just be his chance to escape the harshness he constantly receives at home. This news devastates Callandra. As long as Lottie the housemaid can accompany them, she takes solace in this. Sam, Lottie's brother, intervenes on his sister's behalf. Sam would travel to Canada and build the church in Goderich, which meant Lottie would also travel. During their trek across the Canadian wilderness, Norbert drowns in an accident. Sam gets confused with the Reverend Scott when he arrives in Goderich. Sam and Callandra decide to accept the misunderstanding and let the people of Goderich believe that Sam is Norbert. The men of Goderich assist Sam in building the church in Goderich. Despite not being a preacher, Sam did everything in his power to prolong preaching. As much as I would love to share more about this amazing book, I do not want to spoil the rest of the story for you.
The Road to Goderich is a deeply absorbing historical novel that combines emotional intimacy with a vivid portrayal of political unrest. Linda McQuaig writes with a steady, confident hand, allowing the story to unfold gradually while never losing its emotional core. At the center of the novel is Callandra, a young woman whose life is shaped by forces far beyond her control, family loss, social expectation, and the rigid structures of class and gender in the 19th century.
What makes Callandra such a compelling protagonist is her quiet strength. She is not impulsive or dramatic, but thoughtful, observant, and deeply human. Her marriage to Norbert Scott is portrayed with painful realism; the emotional coldness and subtle cruelty she endures are rendered without exaggeration, making them all the more affecting. McQuaig excels at showing how loneliness can exist even in the most opulent surroundings.
The novel truly comes alive when the setting shifts to Goderich, Upper Canada. The sense of place is remarkable, rugged, hopeful, and charged with political tension. The historical backdrop of the 1837 rebellion is seamlessly woven into the narrative, adding urgency and moral complexity without overshadowing the personal story at its heart.
The relationships Callandra forms, particularly with Lottie are tender and nuanced, offering moments of warmth and connection that feel earned. The themes of truth, deception, and the cost of silence resonate long after the final page. This is not a novel that relies on spectacle; instead, it draws the reader in through careful characterization and emotional authenticity. The Road to Goderich is a thoughtful, rewarding read for anyone who appreciates historical fiction grounded in human experience.
What sets The Road to Goderich apart is its ability to balance sweeping historical change with deeply personal storytelling. Linda McQuaig crafts a narrative that feels both intimate and expansive, grounding large political events in the everyday lives of ordinary people.
Callandra’s story begins in grief and obligation, and from the outset, the novel establishes a strong emotional foundation. Her father’s death and the resulting marriage arrangement are portrayed with compassion and nuance, highlighting the stark realities of survival for women in the 1830s. McQuaig does not frame Callandra as a passive victim; rather, she is a perceptive observer, navigating her circumstances with quiet intelligence.
The move to Upper Canada marks a turning point in the novel, both geographically and emotionally. Goderich is depicted as a place of promise and peril, where ideals of justice and rebellion simmer beneath the surface. The political tension surrounding the 1837 rebellion adds depth and urgency to the narrative, enriching the personal stakes without overwhelming them.
The supporting characters are thoughtfully developed, particularly Lottie, whose loyalty and warmth provide a vital counterpoint to the emotional austerity of Callandra’s marriage. Even characters who inspire mistrust or discomfort are written with complexity, avoiding simplistic moral judgments.
Ultimately, The Road to Goderich is a novel about finding moments of grace in difficult circumstances and about the fragile line between truth and self-preservation. It is quietly compelling, meticulously researched, and emotionally resonant, a rewarding read for fans of character-driven historical fiction.
Linda McQuaig’s The Road to Goderich is a testament to the power of understated storytelling. Rather than relying on dramatic flourishes, the novel draws readers in through its emotional honesty, rich historical detail, and deeply felt character work.
Callandra is a protagonist who stays with you. Her experiences, loss, marriage without affection, displacement are conveyed with a sensitivity that makes her inner life feel authentic and relatable, despite the historical distance. McQuaig excels at portraying the quiet struggles that define much of human experience, particularly for women constrained by social expectation.
The novel’s historical context is handled with impressive restraint. The 1837 rebellion and the tensions between colonial authorities and settlers form a compelling backdrop, but they never overshadow the personal narrative. Instead, they mirror the themes of deception and moral compromise that run throughout the story.
Goderich itself is vividly realized, from its welcoming townsfolk to the undercurrent of suspicion that gradually emerges. The contrast between public warmth and private uncertainty is one of the novel’s most effective elements. Relationships are layered and complex, especially the friendship between Callandra and Lottie, which provides emotional grounding and genuine tenderness.
McQuaig’s prose is clear, elegant, and purposeful, allowing the reader to fully inhabit the world she has created. The Road to Goderich is not a fast-paced novel, but it is a deeply satisfying one. It invites reflection and rewards attention, making it an excellent choice for readers who value thoughtful, character-driven historical fiction.
The Road to Goderich by Linda McQuaig is a beautifully rendered historical novel that transports readers into the emotional and political turbulence of the 1830s with remarkable grace. Set against the stirring backdrop of the 1837 rebellion in Upper Canada, this story masterfully intertwines intimate human drama with larger historical forces. From the windswept landscapes of rural Scotland to the raw promise of colonial settlement, McQuaig creates a vivid, immersive world that feels both authentic and deeply personal.
Callandra is a protagonist whose vulnerability and quiet resilience draw you in from the very first chapter. Her journey from grief-stricken daughter to reluctant bride and eventually to a woman grappling with moral ambiguity is portrayed with emotional intelligence and nuance. The strained marriage to Norbert Scott and the evolving dynamic with Lottie and Sam add layers of tension and tenderness that keep the pages turning. The relationships feel organic, complex, and refreshingly human.
What truly elevates this novel is its exploration of deception and idealism within the charged political atmosphere of Upper Canada. McQuaig does not merely recount historical events; she shows how rebellion seeps into domestic spaces, testing loyalties and convictions. The fragile hope Callandra finds in Goderich is both inspiring and precarious, making every revelation feel consequential.
This is a thoughtful, emotionally resonant read that will appeal to lovers of historical fiction who crave both romance and substance. It lingers long after the final page, inviting reflection on courage, trust, and the cost of truth.
Linda McQuaig’s The Road to Goderich is a deeply affecting historical novel that captures the fragility of human happiness in uncertain times. From the very beginning, the story draws readers into Callandra’s world with remarkable emotional clarity. Her grief, her reluctant acceptance of marriage, and her quiet endurance in the face of emotional neglect are portrayed with sensitivity and authenticity. McQuaig’s writing allows readers not only to observe Callandra’s life but to truly feel it.
The contrast between Callandra’s oppressive life in Scotland and the tentative hope she discovers in Goderich is beautifully rendered. The town itself feels alive, filled with individuals striving for dignity and fairness in the shadow of colonial authority. McQuaig excels at illustrating how community can offer both refuge and risk, especially when political tensions threaten to unravel everything.
What makes this novel particularly memorable is its exploration of trust and deception. The slow revelation of hidden truths creates an undercurrent of tension that keeps readers deeply invested. Every interaction carries emotional weight, and the consequences of even small decisions feel profound. McQuaig skillfully demonstrates how personal and political lives are often inseparable.
This is a thoughtful, emotionally rich novel that offers both compelling storytelling and meaningful reflection. Readers who appreciate historical fiction that prioritizes character and emotional truth will find this book immensely rewarding. It is a powerful reminder of the resilience of the human spirit.
Callandra was only fifteen when her beloved father suddenly died. In the 1830s, women around the world were second-rate citizens and often had to marry to secure financial and social security. Callandra was in a predicament so she reluctantly agreed to marry Norbert, a clergyman from a wealthy family. As an independent thinker, she learned information such as the Poor Law reforms and ached yearned for more knowledge. She respected boldness in intrepid women including Harriet Martineau. But she did not have the same respect for her new husband and his family who treated her abhorrently. Norbert announced to his family he and his young family would be moving to Canada to fill a clergy post. Desperate for support, Callandra took young servant and dear friend Lottie along as well as Lottie's brother Sam. Saying farewell to her mother was nearly impossible. The trip across the Atlantic and then Canada was filled with peril and unknowns. The congregants grew to like the new couple and little girl Emma. Projects got done. But layers were peeled back and layers of secrets were exposed.
The tense atmosphere, family drama, class distinctions, secrets, relationships and church divisions captured my attention and held it. Surprises kept coming and I enjoyed the ending as well. Some characters were insufferable but added a lot of interest. I like stories which are not all sunshine and roses with tidy endings. Overall, this novel is worth spending time with.
Linda McQuaig’s The Road to Goderich is a sweeping historical drama that balances intimacy and revolution with extraordinary skill. Set during a pivotal moment in Canadian history, the novel captures the social tensions and moral complexities of the 1837 uprising while grounding them in the lived experiences of one unforgettable young woman. The sense of time and place is so vivid that the story feels almost cinematic.
Callandra’s emotional journey forms the heart of the novel. Her reluctant marriage, the cold indifference she faces, and the solace she finds in unexpected friendships create a narrative rich in texture and empathy. McQuaig writes with compassion, allowing readers to understand not only Callandra’s fears but also her growing strength. The quiet courage she develops in the face of betrayal is profoundly moving.
The political undercurrents in Goderich add urgency and suspense to the story. As suspicions mount and secrets unravel, the tension becomes almost unbearable. McQuaig skillfully illustrates how personal deception can ripple outward, influencing an entire community at a moment of fragile hope. The stakes feel real, and the emotional consequences are deeply felt.
This novel is both an absorbing historical portrait and a compelling emotional journey. Readers who appreciate layered storytelling and morally complex characters will find themselves thoroughly captivated. It is a story that resonates with authenticity and heart.
The Road to Goderich is a compelling and richly detailed work of historical fiction that brings the early days of Upper Canada vividly to life. Linda McQuaig demonstrates a keen understanding of both historical nuance and human psychology, crafting a narrative that feels intimate yet expansive. The transition from Scotland to the frontier settlement of Goderich is described with such atmospheric precision that readers can almost feel the sea spray and hear the murmurs of rebellion.
Callandra’s character arc is particularly striking. Her initial innocence and vulnerability gradually give way to a deeper awareness of both her own agency and the moral ambiguities surrounding her. The portrayal of her marriage to Norbert is chilling in its emotional coldness, while her bond with Lottie provides warmth and grounding. These relationships are drawn with subtlety and care.
The novel’s exploration of political unrest adds a gripping dimension. The 1837 rebellion is not treated as distant history but as a living, breathing force that shapes decisions and tests integrity. The slow build of suspicion and the unraveling of trust create a suspenseful undercurrent that propels the story forward.
This is a thoughtful, beautifully crafted novel that offers both emotional depth and historical insight. It is the kind of book that invites reflection and rewards careful reading. A highly recommended addition to any historical fiction lover’s shelf.
Linda McQuaig demonstrates a deep understanding of both history and human nature in The Road to Goderich. The novel is meticulously researched, yet never feels academic or distant. Instead, historical detail is woven seamlessly into the lives of the characters, enhancing rather than distracting from the story.
Callandra’s voice is quiet but powerful. Her experiences reflect the limited agency afforded to women of her time, and McQuaig portrays these constraints with empathy and clarity. The emotional isolation Callandra endures is rendered with such precision that it becomes one of the novel’s most affecting elements.
The setting of Goderich is brought vividly to life, capturing both the optimism of a growing settlement and the unease stirred by political unrest. The looming rebellion adds tension and urgency, shaping the choices characters must make and highlighting the consequences of moral compromise.
McQuaig’s prose is measured and evocative, allowing scenes to breathe and emotions to resonate. The novel’s exploration of trust, loyalty, and self-deception is handled with sophistication, inviting readers to reflect on the gray areas of human behavior.
The Road to Goderich is a rewarding read for those who appreciate historical fiction that prioritizes character and theme over spectacle. It is thoughtful, immersive, and deeply humane.
The Road to Goderich is a beautifully layered story that combines emotional intimacy with historical significance. Linda McQuaig brings extraordinary depth to her portrayal of Callandra, whose journey from vulnerability to quiet strength is both believable and deeply moving. The novel captures the emotional toll of isolation while also highlighting the transformative power of connection.
The early sections in Scotland establish a tone of emotional confinement, making Callandra’s later experiences in Upper Canada all the more impactful. McQuaig paints Goderich as a place filled with promise but also uncertainty, reflecting the broader political tensions of the time. The setting becomes more than a backdrop; it becomes an active force shaping the characters’ lives.
The complexity of the characters is one of the novel’s greatest strengths. No one feels one dimensional, and even flawed individuals are portrayed with nuance. The growing suspicions and unraveling truths create a steady sense of suspense that keeps readers engaged until the very end.
This novel is both intellectually engaging and emotionally satisfying. It offers readers an opportunity to reflect on themes of identity, loyalty, and moral courage. McQuaig has crafted a story that is as meaningful as it is compelling.
Linda McQuaig’s The Road to Goderich stands out as a powerful meditation on love, loyalty, and moral courage. The novel’s historical setting provides a dramatic canvas, but its true strength lies in its nuanced portrayal of human relationships. McQuaig’s prose is elegant and evocative, capturing both the harsh realities and quiet beauties of life in the 1830s.
Callandra’s journey is heartbreaking and inspiring in equal measure. Forced into a marriage that offers little affection, she must navigate a world shaped by rigid social expectations. Yet even in moments of isolation, she finds unexpected companionship and glimpses of hope. Her resilience feels authentic, never overstated.
As the rebellion simmers in Upper Canada, the personal and political collide in fascinating ways. The moral dilemmas faced by the characters are rendered with sensitivity, allowing readers to grapple alongside them. The suspense builds steadily, culminating in revelations that feel both shocking and inevitable.
This novel is a testament to the enduring power of historical fiction to illuminate both past and present. It is immersive, emotionally rich, and intellectually engaging. I found myself thinking about it long after I finished reading.
Linda McQuaig has created a truly immersive historical experience in The Road to Goderich. Her attention to emotional detail and historical authenticity makes the story feel incredibly real. From the harsh emotional landscape of Callandra’s marriage to the uncertain promise of a new life across the ocean, every moment feels carefully and thoughtfully constructed.
Callandra is a protagonist who resonates deeply because of her humanity. She is neither unrealistically strong nor helpless, but rather someone navigating difficult circumstances with courage and vulnerability. Her emotional journey is compelling, and readers will find themselves rooting for her even in her moments of doubt.
The political tension surrounding the rebellion adds an additional layer of urgency to the narrative. McQuaig skillfully balances the personal and the political, showing how large historical forces shape individual lives. The sense of looming uncertainty creates an atmosphere that is both tense and captivating.
This is a novel that will stay with readers long after they finish it. It is thoughtful, beautifully written, and emotionally resonant. A must read for anyone who appreciates historical fiction with depth and heart.
The Road to Goderich by Linda McQuaig is historical fiction of the highest calibre. Impeccable research, a seamless blend of fictional and real characters and polished writing are the hallmarks of this impressive book. The novel begins with the adolescent Callandra at school but when she and her younger siblings arrive home, they learn that their father has died suddenly. With no one to run the farm and no other source of income, the family is catapulted into destitution. When the opportunistic Reverend Norbert Scott discovers that Callandra’s family is in dire straits, he proposes marriage to Callandra with the incentive that he will assume the mortgage for the family farm. Although she was repulsed by him, Callandra reluctantly agrees to the proposal. The talentless Norbert is determined to distinguish himself, and volunteers for a posting in the backwoods of Canada. During a terrible storm en route, an accident occurs that results in one death and a series of secrets. The story unfolds against the background of the 1837 Rebellion, the Huron Tract, the Clergy Reserves and the Family Compact. Highly recommended. (Full review in The Miramichi Reader)
The Road to Goodrich" is not a widely known book, and the search results indicate that no prominent work with that specific title exists. However, there is a prominent author, Tom Cox, who has written books with similar themes, such as his novel Villager. A 200-word review could be written about his style, which focuses on folklore, landscape, and the interconnectedness of stories, as seen in Villager. A review might highlight Cox's "wonderfully inventive and imaginative" writing style, noting how his narratives often move through time and link together diverse characters and observations. Reviews praise his ability to create a deep sense of place, whether it's a fictionalized Dartmoor or rural English life. Readers often find themselves "swept along" by the current of his stories and enjoy the unique balance of "awe and irreverence". His work can be a complex yet rewarding read for those who enjoy folklore and intricate storytelling that takes time to reveal all its links. Since "The Road to Goodrich" does not appear to be a recognized work, a review would likely need to focus on a more prominent title by a similar author to be relevant and accurate.
There is a quiet confidence to The Road to Goderich that makes it especially compelling. Linda McQuaig does not rush her story; instead, she allows it to unfold naturally, giving readers the space to fully engage with its emotional and historical layers.
Callandra’s journey is marked by endurance and inner strength. Her experiences are portrayed with restraint, making her moments of hope and connection feel all the more meaningful. The novel captures the emotional cost of displacement, both physical and emotional with great sensitivity.
The historical backdrop of the 1837 rebellion adds depth and complexity, grounding the personal narrative in a moment of significant change. McQuaig’s depiction of Goderich as a community caught between optimism and suspicion is particularly effective, reflecting the broader themes of trust and deception.
What lingers most after finishing the novel is its emotional authenticity. The relationships, the moral dilemmas, and the quiet acts of courage feel real and earned. The Road to Goderich is a thoughtful, beautifully crafted novel that will resonate with readers long after the final page.
The story begins in 1830s in rural Scotland with characters and accents and ways of life that are unknown and interesting to me. There fifteen-year-old Callandra is devastated by her father's sudden death and understands that the only way to save her family from destitution is to marry a wealthy clergyman from Glasgow whom she does not know, love, or even like. In her new city life with his family, the only person who speaks to her is the household servant, Lottie, with whom she develops a close bond. When Callandra's husband accepts a position in place no one has ever heard of in rural Canada, she plots to bring Lottie -- and Lottie's brother Sam -- with them. What unfolds is a story of adventure, deceipt and deception and constant obstacles, making for a page-turning read despite some holes in the narrative.
Always happy to read Canadian history. The story starts in Scotland, with conflicts of wealth and privilege and a family teetering on the edge of existence once the father dies. An interim period of class distinctions and clashes (as well as favouritism and family rigidity) is followed by a flight to Canada, with an eventual landing in Goderich, Upper Canada (now more or less Ontario). The challenges of settling in a new place and the perils of the wilds of Canada preface a short period of peace until it all falls apart. There's a bit of everything here - wood chopping, church raising and insular communities. That's followed by a period of bodice ripping, and then off in the distance, unsuccessful rebellion against the Family Compact. I could have done with much more of the rebellion and less of the bodice ripping, but it's always fun to read "local" historical fiction.
My review is going to mirror another reader's because I too received this through Edelweiss. After not scoring any approvals repeatedly the last few months I was thrilled to finally receive this and it ended up being less than I had hoped for. It started out decently for me, the main protagonist Callandra's set of circumstances and life had me rooting for her as the storyline took off but then it became a little convoluted in my opinion with what develops with character Sam and how it's presented to others. I wont go any further in case someone else decides to pick this one up, but again was disappointed that this missed the mark.
Thank you to Edelwiess and author Linda McQuaig for this digital read in exchange for an honest review.
This one had me mighty confused by the end. While I enjoyed the history and the setting, I was puzzled by the character of Sam, in particular. If he wasn't really Lottie's brother, but her love interest, why didn't they just marry when they reached Canada? Why, when he went to Goderich, did he never write to her? Why did he tell Callandra that he loved her? Where did he go and what did he do when he left Callandra in Goderich? Was he returning to her when he was ultimately arrested? Can anyone clear up any of these questions?