Canadian artist Emily Carr felt it would be grand to build a house and earn her living —and independence— as a landlady. She built the house in 1913 and the irony is that even though the design included a custom studio for her work, the demands and interruptions of tenants meant she was too busy to do much painting. Other factors, such as war and economic conditions, also contributed to how little she was able to earn from the property.
She was kind-hearted, it seems, perhaps too kind-hearted to support herself as a landlady, and this memoir is composed of many short pieces detailing a range of encounters with eccentric tenants, her own monkey, and various dogs (she also had a kennel and raised Bobtail Sheep Dogs).
Emily Carr is today an institution in Canada, both metaphorically and literally (there is a university in Vancouver named after her—previously the Emily Carr Institute of Art and Design, now the Emily Carr University of Art + Design).
All this is background and context to the author and artist, but what about the book? I loved the voice, the deft descriptions and spare prose. I enjoyed the gentle self-mocking of her naive approach and unfailing incompetence.
I also admired the format of what I was calling a "shadow memoir" — where we only glimpse the author through her observations, her interactions, and occasionally her complaints about not having time to paint. We see her shadow, when the light falls a certain way, and it is those murky depths that illuminate the artist.
Emily Carr lived in The House of All Sorts for 22 years, and her house remains in Victoria. A nearby property, today called the Emily Carr House, was her family's home when she was a child.