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320 pages, Paperback
First published September 14, 2021
Once I got settled, I ordered a slice of lemon mirage pie.The best part of Donna Morrissey’s memoir is the living evocation of Newfoundland speech. I loved hearing her with her family - they were right here with me. I loved, too, comparing her East Coast childhood with mine, how her family and village worked, how everyone coped with what they didn’t have and didn’t know. So much of her experiences with shame and guilt - the two ugly sisters, she calls them - mixed with the profound trauma of losing family, felt as real as my own. Some of her flowery descriptive passages left me cold, sounding more creative writing class than seasoned novelist, but it seemed much less noticeable as the book progressed. I also had some qualms about the precisely-remembered events and conversations of her childhood - they definitely display some of the “imagination” she develops as a budding writer. They didn’t feel fabricated, exactly, more enhanced for the enjoyment of the reader, and didn’t work as well for me. However, it’s Donna Morrissey’s truth, and as she says, we believe what we believe because we need to believe it. There are a number of fascinating tangents here, and the author’s experience with a compulsive liar was one of the best depictions I’ve ever come across. She can stretch a yarn, eh?
"Mirage?” asked the server. “You mean meringue?”
Fawk! “Well, if you’ve got no mirage,” I muttered with a full understanding of Father’s reluctance to ever leave the Beaches.