Consumate storyteller, Lorina Stephens, returns with a novel of grief and the power of forgiveness
There is a conversation that should have happened between Vi Cotter and her mother. Now it’s too late.
But sometimes the dead speak through the legacy they leave, and in this case Vi’s mother bequeaths her, among other things, her journals. Do we sometimes seek absolution from the grave? Do we seek reconciliation between the child, the woman, the crone?
In a story of unspoken truths and hidden fears, The Rose Guardian explores the cages we make when we fail to unlock our secrets.
Lorina Stephens has worked as editor, freelance journalist for national and regional print media, been a festival organizer, publicist, lectures on many historical topics from textiles to domestic technologies, teaches, and continues to work as a writer and artist.
Her short fiction has appeared in Polar Borealis, On Spec, Strangers Among Us, Postscripts to Darkness, Neo-Opsis, Stories of the Deluge, and Sword & Sorceress X.
Book credits include: Tesseracts 22: Alchemy and Artifacts, co-editor with Susan MacGregor, Edge Publishing, 2019 The Rose Guardian, Five Rivers Publishing, 2019 Caliban, Five Rivers Publishing, 2018 Stonehouse Cooks, Five Rivers Publishing, 2011, From Mountains of Ice, Five Rivers Publishing, 2009, And the Angels Sang, Five Rivers Publishing, 2008, Shadow Song, Five Rivers Publishing, 2008, Recipes of a Dumb Housewife, Lulu Publishing 2007, Credit River Valley, Boston Mills Press 1994 Touring the Giant’s Rib: A Guide to the Niagara Escarpment; Boston Mills Press 1993
Una Cotter is dead, and her sixty-something daughter, Vi, is left to sort out her feelings about her mother, her family, her childhood, and her ambiguous inheritance. One cannot but grieve the passing of one’s mother, but when Una Cotter was your mom, it’s complicated.
This is a quiet, thoughtful book that will appeal to anyone working through the loss of a parent—or their own midlife crisis. Lorina Stephens paints a multi-layered canvas of loss and release, of denial and self-examination, of blame and understanding. The portraiture that emerges as each layer is laid down is a complex and nuanced examination of three generations of women, each the product of their era, but also slightly out of phase. Vi learns much that had been hidden when she inherits Una's diaries, but it's Vi's re-examination of her own childhood that provides the greatest insights into her family's dynamic, and the need to understand and come to terms with her own issues.
There is a lot of food for thought here, and what I liked most about the book was its undercurrent of resigned optimism. Life is what it is, you can't change the past, you can't change other people, but you can change your own perceptions and reactions. Looking back, and then letting go of who you were, might just be the best way forward.
Of course, any great book is about more than just the central theme. I loved the multifaceted character of Vi as a competent, compassionate, and creative woman. While those around her are starting to worry she may be losing it, we see that she is just now coming into her own as both an artist and a woman suddenly freed of a weight she has been carrying. I loved the intimate descriptions of the painter at her canvas, both for the technical descriptions and as a central metaphor. I loved the characterization of her relationship with her ex and her uncle, both worthy men. And best of all, I loved her characterization of the ghost (did I mention there's a ghost?), the mystery child who first appears at the funeral. Stephens gets inside the ghost-child's head to show us the true magic of childhood—which is to say, often very dark magic, a terrifying world of monsters with only the Rose Guardian between you and chaos. I recognized several of the nightmares from my own childhood, and glimpsed some of my daughter's still current fears, and if these scenes don't resonate with you, you must have had an exceptional childhood . . . or a selectively poor memory.
Stephens depicts people coping with their lives and each other as best they can, such that in the end, they are all sympathetically portrayed, even Una. This is the family next door, or down the block, or possibly people you recognize in your own extended family. I'm glad I've met them, glad Vi is doing okay . . . and I really like this new direction in Vi's paintings.
Canadian author! Canadian publisher! The first time I read this book, I had a hard time keeping track of which narrator was talking about their Ma. Written as a combination of third person narration, first person narration, and diary entries, and switching between three narrators, all of whom refer to their various maternal figures as Ma, I actually had to go back and re-read a few sections to make sure everything had coalesced in my head properly. The second time things were very clear. Stephens' richly detailed novel follows three women: Violet Cotter, a divorced artist in her 60's whose mother has just died, Una Cotter, the sharp and mercurial matron whose contentious relationship with Violet may have destroyed Violet's marriage, and the mysterious Lettie, a young girl beset by numerous fears of monsters and bogies. Violet and Una haven't spoken in years. Yet when the will is read Una has left Violet two things: her diaries and the patent to the award winning Cotter roses that were her creation. It's an unexpected inheritance that only causes more tension in the argumentative family. Violet grapples with her grief while teaching summer art classes to a small group of pre-teens, one of whom turns out to be Lettie. Lettie has apparently materialized out of thin air; Violet never sees her arrive or leave and can't find a record of her being signed up for the classes. She's awed by Lettie's talent and allows her to continue with the classes while she tries to unravel the mystery. Which Stephens eventually uncovers for us. I feel compelled to mention here that my personal preference is for a narrative that ties all the disparate plot points together in space and time like a perfect Gordian knot and this is not what Stephens does. There are bits that dangle and little odds and ends that don't quite slide in to the whole but the book itself is so enjoyable to read and so well crafted that I was still pleased I read it. Sensitive readers should be aware that The Rose Guardian contains themes of spousal abuse, child abuse, and the sexual assault of a minor. The abuse especially is prevalent throughout the text so if you are going to read this book and struggle with mentions of abuse please be kind to yourself. Stephens is definitely going on my list of authors to watch and I hope she will go on your list too.
I bought the Rose Guardian after reading the opening at the end of in Dreams of the Moon. it was riveting. Intriguing, family tensions at the funerals of the main character's mother. I had to know more! I bought the book and waited until I had finished some projects before starting to read the Rose Guardian.
In a vastly populated publishing landscape, many excellent writers are often overlooked. Lorina Stephens is CanadaLit's best kept secret.
Her spellbinding prose kept me guessing as I dove headfirst into the psychological woes of an aging artist who deals with her estranged mother's passing and the roses business. And as Violet discovers her mother's journals and secrets, she is visited in her Manitoulin home by a strange little girl who shows an uncanny talent in drawing. Who is she?
The narrative flows between the harried mother's journals dating from WWII, the present day-to-day artist's life, with many details about the craft that visual painters among us will appreciate (I have done watercolors, but never this elaborate!) and a little unnamed girl who grows in her Ma's shadow and gives souls to every being in her reach, and talks to a majestic Roses bush in the garden, the titular Rose Guardian.
The unnamed girl looks with hope at the clouds building up, seeing boats, waiting for them to take her to a place where nobody hurts. The mother, who has endured abuse, resents her solitude ("Find a successful woman and you'll find a lonely one. Where a man shows leadership and decisiveness, in a woman it's called arrogance and bitchiness.") The watercolor artist composes with the ghost-child visitations, an estranged husband who still loves her, a possible interview by a major media outlet (oh, the weight of appearances!) and the cruel self-interrogations of her worth as an artist, another thing this reader related to.
The three mysteries entwined more and more in the novel, we get to understand the mother's tribulations, the mysterious ghost-child, and the unnamed girl who has to grow up... and abandon her golden dreams.
The prose is rich and delicate like a cloud lining:
"Silence drifted in the house, comfortable, eloquent." "I was struck by the aromas of my trade: the fungus smell of watercolour papers, the citrus-sharp pungency of oils and turps and glazing mediums." "Only now did I understand that, accept it, recognize the shift on the political map of my life."
The story is about the complexity of a human soul, the relations, and the mental prison we build for ourselves, against an outside world full of hurt. It is about art, too, about the female artist condition (oh, the weight of appearance, bis!) about too-tight clothes (oh, the passage about the torturing shoes) and a host of concerns, and friendship, resilience, acceptance. Life is imperfect, but we have to cope with, and eventually transcend the limits, to find closure.
I loved this book for this gradual poetic construction, of shades and lights in the characters with an artist's brush, and for the exaltation of the beauty of Manitoulin Island (which I hope to discover for myself soon.) As I closed the book, I shared this desire of the soul to fly out towards an horizon crowned with golden clouds.
I really liked this book. I was happy to discover that it takes place in Canada as I have very happy memories of visiting that wonderful, friendly, beautiful country.
At first I had no trouble keeping the three narrators separate, it may have been close to the middle when I got a little confused (it was likely due to having to set the book aside for a bit due to the new school year starting and preparation for a hopefully soon move) but it was easily sorted.
I don't want to spoil any discoveries for future readers. I will give a warning for those who may become upset reading of spousal abuse and of sexual assault to a minor.
I especially enjoyed reading about the main character's painting processes. Definitely recommend The Rose Guardian and look forward to seeing what else Ms. Stephens has wriiten.