Penelope's Reading List

Read only the very first chapter and it is easy to see why
The Friends of Meager Fortune, David Adams Richards’ latest epic, was recently named as a long-list finalist for the Giller Prize. Then read on, and discover a story whose prosaic allure takes hold of your imagination and does not easily let go.

Set in World War II era New Brunswick, Friends once again takes us to rural, wild Canada where, against a backdrop of the most beautiful, most ferocious landscape, a logging family weaves a saga of fortune and tragedy, love and vengeance.

It is here that we meet the Jameson clan, including eldest son Will, whose determination and gifts see him raised to mythical proportions in the eyes of the town and his fellow loggers, and younger son Owen, who must bear the twin burdens of that greatness and of a looming prophecy divulged long ago.

Plagued by war, scandal, treachery and trial, Adams Richards leads us through the last great logging haul before the inevitable advancement of technology, and into the hearts and minds of a townspeople determined to see the Jameson family ruined.

As with the Giller-prize winning Mercy Among the Children, Adams Richards offers readers an unparallelled level of both tragedy and humanity, where a series of unfortunate events, ironies and maliciousness plunge our protaganists to the lowest depths of misery, though, while there, even the most put-upon, misunderstood or accused character manages to cling to the belief that love, beauty and kindness exist and are worth surviving for.

There are two linked struggles throughout the story – that which takes place on the mountain, where the battle is fought mostly against the nature of the land, and that which takes place in town, where the battle is fought mostly against the nature of humans. In both struggles, the players long for reward and redemption, and in both, losing, we are assured, means certain death.

Adams Richards weaves his tale in a language of subtleties; the action meanders, and sometime seems to even stall, then is punctuated by a series of tragically beautiful events. But the plot does move forward, in whispers that are almost hidden. If tempted to skim even the most innocuous-seeming paragraph, you risk altogether missing the most imperative answer. Secrets are revealed in the most casual of exchanges.

But I urge you: don’t skim. Don’t miss even one word of this tragic, beautiful epic.