
Half in the Sun: Anthology of Mennonite Writing
edited by Elsie K. Neufeld
with Robert Martens and Leonard Neufeldt
Half in the Sun is a collection of prose and poetry from west coast Mennonite writers, including such well known names as Andreas Schroeder, Carla Funk, Barbara Nickel, Melody Goetz, and Patrick Friesen, with an introduction by Sharon Butala. The voices in this anthology are diverse, yet reveal a textural quilt of shared tensions ā surviving political cruelties of Europe, the angst of settling in a new world, and the attempts to weave faith, history and hard work into the new community.
The Mennonite church is present in the evidence of virtues here, but there is no preaching and no sectarian chauvinism. Faith comes through a familyās ordeals moving from a farm to a house in the city, in Schroederās humorous āRenovating Heavenā. It comes through in Darcie Friesen Hossackās āAshesā as a woman and her daughter-in-law learn to deal with loss and grief together, in spite of their different interpretations of how to live well.
Hell is a place on earth for many, including āKatyaā, the eponymous refugee desperately seeking to survive Siberia with her family in Louise Bergen Priceās story. Hell is normal for Oscar Martenās āSafe Places On Earthā, although the protagonist (a thief and con-man) hardly notices as he goes about the tricks of his day, preying on the good hearts of Mennonites.
However, the good heart is open to honesty and refuses to euphemize violence. Most Mennonites come from the farming community; they know how meat is more than that package in a supermarket refrigerator. In āThe End of Swinbourneā written by Harry Tournemille, a young boy comes of age watching the breach birth of a calf, and is expected to get in there with all the stinking fluids. Neufeldās poem āYesterdayās Killā describes the harvesting of pigs. You can feel the fear and smell the āpiss bloodā while women in the kitchen merrily prepare sausage.
Sentimentality is absent but not missed between these covers. Life is full of danger as listed by Funk in her poem āAngel of Stupidityā. Giving up is not an option either. Nickelās āSestina for the Sweaterā knits an endless return that ācasts me off, casts me on, sound of needles as we face the yearsā.
The sacred is in the mundane. In the many chores that chart their lives Larry Nightingale writes in āBarrel-burningā, āweāre white smoke in timeās orchardā. K. Louise Vincent confesses āUp close, I see the heart of the world/ is broken; it is winter and there is warā in her quiet protest āI Find all Devotion Difficultā. You can feel the presence of something larger than weather in Neufeldās āNovember Snowā... āthe dead come to life. Snow crafting bare limbs / into crooked white fingersā.
Between the activities of hard working people there are those private moments of despair. It is palpable in Funkās poem āNightwalkā where a ālong mirror of sidewalk lightsā take you to āthe night to sudden nowhereā. Yet we are warned about contentment, the crescendoās of self-congratulation in Martenās āa little mennonite goes a long wayā. We are told by the ads that āorgasm is immortalā and āif youāre having a good timeā you need to locate that ālittle mennoniteā to remind you, that no matter how full the banquet table āthis could be our last mealā.
Friesen warns, in āLimoncino Roadā, āThereās so much civilization, so much deception, to work your way throughā, yet this book is a testimonial to the authenticity of the single creative voice embedded in a collective. These voices know of starvation, injustice and refugee camps; of farm labour, of trying to fit in the new world and of the thin line between coping and giving up. It rises from the experience of each writer and is as personal as the colour of an eye. It is a wisdom that comes from seeing, as Neufeldt observes in āWhy Our Town is Replacing silver Maples with Better Treesā, your beloved āstanding half in the evening sun and half in the shade wonderingā.
edited by Elsie K. Neufeld
with Robert Martens and Leonard Neufeldt
Half in the Sun is a collection of prose and poetry from west coast Mennonite writers, including such well known names as Andreas Schroeder, Carla Funk, Barbara Nickel, Melody Goetz, and Patrick Friesen, with an introduction by Sharon Butala. The voices in this anthology are diverse, yet reveal a textural quilt of shared tensions ā surviving political cruelties of Europe, the angst of settling in a new world, and the attempts to weave faith, history and hard work into the new community.
The Mennonite church is present in the evidence of virtues here, but there is no preaching and no sectarian chauvinism. Faith comes through a familyās ordeals moving from a farm to a house in the city, in Schroederās humorous āRenovating Heavenā. It comes through in Darcie Friesen Hossackās āAshesā as a woman and her daughter-in-law learn to deal with loss and grief together, in spite of their different interpretations of how to live well.
Hell is a place on earth for many, including āKatyaā, the eponymous refugee desperately seeking to survive Siberia with her family in Louise Bergen Priceās story. Hell is normal for Oscar Martenās āSafe Places On Earthā, although the protagonist (a thief and con-man) hardly notices as he goes about the tricks of his day, preying on the good hearts of Mennonites.
However, the good heart is open to honesty and refuses to euphemize violence. Most Mennonites come from the farming community; they know how meat is more than that package in a supermarket refrigerator. In āThe End of Swinbourneā written by Harry Tournemille, a young boy comes of age watching the breach birth of a calf, and is expected to get in there with all the stinking fluids. Neufeldās poem āYesterdayās Killā describes the harvesting of pigs. You can feel the fear and smell the āpiss bloodā while women in the kitchen merrily prepare sausage.
Sentimentality is absent but not missed between these covers. Life is full of danger as listed by Funk in her poem āAngel of Stupidityā. Giving up is not an option either. Nickelās āSestina for the Sweaterā knits an endless return that ācasts me off, casts me on, sound of needles as we face the yearsā.
The sacred is in the mundane. In the many chores that chart their lives Larry Nightingale writes in āBarrel-burningā, āweāre white smoke in timeās orchardā. K. Louise Vincent confesses āUp close, I see the heart of the world/ is broken; it is winter and there is warā in her quiet protest āI Find all Devotion Difficultā. You can feel the presence of something larger than weather in Neufeldās āNovember Snowā... āthe dead come to life. Snow crafting bare limbs / into crooked white fingersā.
Between the activities of hard working people there are those private moments of despair. It is palpable in Funkās poem āNightwalkā where a ālong mirror of sidewalk lightsā take you to āthe night to sudden nowhereā. Yet we are warned about contentment, the crescendoās of self-congratulation in Martenās āa little mennonite goes a long wayā. We are told by the ads that āorgasm is immortalā and āif youāre having a good timeā you need to locate that ālittle mennoniteā to remind you, that no matter how full the banquet table āthis could be our last mealā.
Friesen warns, in āLimoncino Roadā, āThereās so much civilization, so much deception, to work your way throughā, yet this book is a testimonial to the authenticity of the single creative voice embedded in a collective. These voices know of starvation, injustice and refugee camps; of farm labour, of trying to fit in the new world and of the thin line between coping and giving up. It rises from the experience of each writer and is as personal as the colour of an eye. It is a wisdom that comes from seeing, as Neufeldt observes in āWhy Our Town is Replacing silver Maples with Better Treesā, your beloved āstanding half in the evening sun and half in the shade wonderingā.
Janet Vickers is a British-Canadian poet based in BC who recently won the first-ever Facebook Poetry competition. Her chapbook is You Were There (2006). Her poems have appeared at Nthposition, Eyewear and elsewhere.
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