Being raised to idleness in England, left Harry Cane ill prepared for life as a homesteader in the town of Winter, but becoming a farmer was only the beginning of the making of this man. I’m so glad I gave Patrick Gale a second chance (Notes From An Exhibition was wearisome to say the least) because, I adored this book. For the last week, Harry Cane and co., were the only people I wanted to spend any time with.
The story is loosely based on Gale’s great grandfather, as one of the hundreds of Englishmen who joined the homesteading adventure of the Canadian prairies in the early 20th century. It’s a bitter-sweet and rather erotic love story; a portrait of daily life in an extreme environment (Gale’s descriptive talents are mesmerizing) and a compelling portrait of a man, who faced ostracism on many fronts, not least sexually. The prose is exceptionally beautiful in places and tears were spilled.
Harry is haunted by various men throughout the book, most significantly the love of his life, Paul, but also by the prowling Danish-man, Troels Munk, an ominous figure who resurfaces at various points to thwart and hinder the progress made by Harry and those closest to him.
The story is told in flashbacks, with climaxes everywhere, it’s genuinely gripping, and the compassionate and kind-hearted nature of many of the characters make it all the more endearing. The book just has an elegance and charm that you don’t find everywhere and although I’d like to have seen some events and individuals develop more, it’s safe to say that Harry Cane and A Place Called Winter have found a home in the grey folds of my brain. A real keeper. Highly recommended.