A detective story that thoughtfully revisits 1930s prairie history, Terrence Heath’s Casualties is a narrative rife with romance, hardship, and tragedy. With eight previous publications under his belt – including a novel (The Last Hiding Place 1982), a collection of short stories (The Truth and Other Stories 1972), and a book of poetry (Interstices of Night 1979) – Heath brings considerable experience to his newest book, and one has the sense (not only from the author’s acknowledgements but also from the text itself) that a good deal of archival research went into the writing of it. Indeed, Casualties’ greatest strength is its portrayal of events in Canada’s past that are in danger of slipping through the cracks of Canadian history.
Casualties begins by introducing readers to Clara Semichuk, a well-to-do Toronto woman in her sixties who has just lost her husband Peter (nicknamed “Chuck”). The extent to which she really knew Chuck is called into question when, shortly after his funeral, Clara finds a note in the pocket of his tuxedo jacket: signed by one Thomas Pennan, the note is a murder confession (“I killed Margaret” [p. 3]). Who is Pennan? Who is Margaret? As she ponders the meaning of the note, Clara receives a phone call from a man who claims to have fought in the Spanish Civil War alongside her husband. Was Chuck a soldier in Spain? In search of answers to her many questions, Clara sets out for Vancouver, on the off-chance that Pennan lived there. After Vancouver, she chases clues to Regina and then to England; along the way, she meets Sidney Penner, a widower who becomes Clara’s “co-detective” and tentative love-interest.
Clara and Sidney’s present-day narrative is frequently interrupted by flashbacks to the past. We learn that Chuck and Tom met in 1934, when both were young men; Chuck, a Ukrainian communist, moved into the Pennan family home shortly thereafter. Margaret, we discover, was a young woman who lived next door to the Pennans. A complex web of unrequited love is then spun (Margaret loves Chuck, as does Tom’s sister Nell, and Tom loves Margaret); as a direct consequence of their feelings for each other, the characters become embroiled in communist politics. They are present at the Regina Riot in 1935 and then they find their way to Spain. Clara puts the puzzle pieces together somewhat more slowly than we do, as readers, but none of us uncovers the full truth until the end of the novel.
Although the plots of both narrative strands are engaging, readers will be most impressed by Heath’s ability to reanimate the past. As we witness the characters’ struggles with unemployment and poverty, their involvement in the communist movement, the Regina Riot, and the civil war in Spain seems as sensible as it is impassioned. But as we come to understand the respective complexities of Chuck, Tom, and Margaret, our ambivalence toward these characters grows. Chuck may be a natural leader with much charisma, but in his fierce commitment to “the cause” he neglects the needs of those who are closest to him. While we feel for Tom, who lives in his best friend’s shadow, his weaknesses are difficult to forgive because of the actions he ultimately chooses to take. Margaret, who is drawn into the political dramas of the day by her desire to be near Chuck, becomes the most unambiguously hapless victim in the story – though, even then, readers may wonder: is any man worth the sacrifice of one’s life?
A few aspects of the contemporary narrative strand are less-than-believable (I would expect much more grief from Clara, given that she embarks on her search the day after her husband’s funeral), and some stylistic quirks (“well” and “er,” used to indicate pauses) are distracting, but the final twist in the historical narrative strand makes up for these shortcomings. Clara’s ultimate realization, moreover, that it matters little whether she did or did not know her husband (“he was loved, and that’s all any of us can hope for” [p. 327]) – followed by her decision to chart her own course, now that he is gone – provides a satisfying conclusion to both plots. Unlike Margaret, whose fate was determined by both Chuck and Tom, Clara chooses to run her own life, independent of any man. History, in this novel, has taken many casualties, but Clara will not be one of them.
Lisa Grekul is a professor with the Department of Critical Studies, UBC-Okanagan.
