Garbo Laughs

Elizabeth Hay's GARBO LAUGHS really got under my skin. And stayed there. I swear I think of certain images from it at least once a day and I can't say that of any other book I've read in the last several years. She takes you right inside the scene and she understands so perfectly how to write about the quiet in the early morning in a house filled with people, how to make you really feel it, she never insists, she's never histrionic, she's never melodramatic, she trusts her best readers, and it all feels so effortless, it all so beautifully catches the ebb and flow of real life. And when she writes about Harriet (a great character) losing her temper, there's something so absolutely, so wonderfully comic and wild about it. And here are just a few more of my favourite things:She was a witness to the cozy hilarity on the sofa...ankles touching, soul aghast...Like a Huron she carried her coffee....And the whole section that follows that, about being seriously undersleptThe chapter called SHOCK. The way she does fire is amazing--that incendiary combination of fire and kimono--and I love the emotional complexity and humour of this whole section...And the incredible description of the double ladder of slats (and the glass inserts) in the window of the hotel room in Havana, the part that goes "there was a whole world in the fittings of each window, the workings that allowed air without sun, light without wind or rain..."Dinah Bloom being piggy-backed on Lew's back while still wearing her skates is also a great scene: medieval in a surreal way, like something out of a painting by Breughel.(...) So painterly and human and shy and funny and warm and so exciting to read, it just soars above Carol Shield's cutely clinical and coy description (...).

Harriet Browning, a novelist with an obsession for old-time movies, lives in Ottawa with her husband Lew Gold and their two children, ten-year-old Kenny, who likes to dress as Frank Sinatra, complete with fedora, and twelve-year-old Jane, who fantasizes about being a movie star. Lew, a "heritage architect," is far more pragmatic than the rest of the family, having very little interest in the movies, especially as an escape, and he is worried about Harriet's retreat into films. Tall and serious, Harriet is often thought to resemble Greta Garbo, and Lew sees her as "a woman without a romantic bone in her body, until she [sits] down in front of a movie."Harriet herself "shares" her day-to-day concerns with her favorite film critic, Pauline Kael, writing unsent letters and using Pauline as a sounding board as she tries to work out issues in her own life. The lives of the Gold-Browning family are thrown into an uproar when Leah, Harriet's aunt, once married to a Hollywood figure, announces that she and her stepson Jack Frame are coming to Ottawa to stay for several months. Since "even a calm letter from Leah was like a missive from Liza Minnelli," Harriet must prepare herself to cope with their arrival and with the fact that she has depicted Leah unflatteringly in a recent novel.Hay's style is energetic and fast-paced, and the novel is filled with lively but realistic dialogue. Harriet and her family sound like real people with real personalities engaged in real problems, and Hay successfully avoids the pitfalls of being cute. Harriet's neighborhood comes to life in all its humanity, and becomes a microcosm of the real, outside world-her close friend Dinah battles cancer, lonely senior citizens long for love, a neighbor dies, and spouses start to be attracted to other people. The movies offer a way to escape from the immediate complications, however, even for Kenny, a victim of schoolyard bullying.Hay incorporates a great deal of nature imagery, using it to enhance her themes, and eventually, Harriet is forced to confront the workings of nature in her own life. "Life couldn't compete with the movies, but death could," she discovers. Themes of romance and reality, love and friendship, life and death, and the "wonderfulness of modest lives" are all revealed here within the context of one Ottawa neighborhood, illuminated by the movies that give excitement to their lives. Like the life cycle of nature and the change of seasons, this novel has beginnings and endings, and growth and change, all revealed within the unique context of old movies, Cary Grant, Audrey Hepburn, and Frank Sinatra. Mary Whipple

You will never quite feel the same watching the old classic movies after you read Garbo Laughs. The constant thread in this story of the daily life of a regular, sort of, family is the Friday night movie club - Harriet Browning, her two children, and neighbour and journalist friend Dinah Bloom. Discussions among the movie buffs focus on characters rather than plotlines: comparing the acting skills of Cary Grant or Marlon Brando or the good looks of Katherine Hepburn or Greta Garbo. The latter has a special place in the household of Harriet, author of some notoriety and the primary selector of films to watch - she looks a bit like the enigmatic actress, hidden laughs and all. The films appear to be more important than the daily realities. Only Harriet's husband Lew provides the link to the realisms of the outside world - he travels to distant places and brings back impressions and a special souvenir for Harriet. We are invited to share the daily life of Harriet's family and neighbours - through the better part of a year that included the ice storm of 1998. The story takes place in a close-knit neighbourhood in Ottawa. Hay sets the scene of the cozy community in which every body knows everybody and they all interact frequently. Emotions, concealed or expressed, flow between the various characters. The arrival of aunt Leah, widow of a Hollywood screenwriter, and her stepson Jack bring upheaval to the daily routines. Some relate better to them than others and relationships become more complicated. Leah is an astute observer of people and knows how to rub salt into the proverbial emotional wounds. Harriet's problems with the goings on are aggravated by her inability to sleep: she watches the old movies over and over again and at all hours of day or night - no wonder she has sleeping problems! Her ongoing musings on her life, her relationships and her surroundings are shared in frequent, un-mailed letters to real-life movie critic, Pauline Kael. For movie expert Kenny, the teenage son of Harriet and Lew, actors and their abilities are more important than real life concerns. His probing mind is focused on the silver screen. In the meantime, his problems in school can only be pushed aside for so long...Hay has a unique talent to make this family and her surroundings breathe; she brings each character into his or her own. Her portrait of the place, the time and - of course - the weather - are gems in descriptive power. Let's not ignore that there is a story line to follow, endearing and captivating, which flows effortlessly carrying the main characters along. Hay has created a wonderful story that deserves to be read, and not only by classic movie aficionados. [Friederike Knabe, Ottawa, Canada]

Movies have been blamed for social ills ranging from child abuse to revolution. As a pivot of family relationships, however, the movies are rarely a cause. Elizabeth Hay has changed all that in one exquisite stroke. Garbo Laughs is an entertaining and impressive account of a "nuclear family" whose members range from obsessive to indifferent to the enticements of movies. Harriet Browning, a writer, is driven by actors, actresses, directors involved in film. Special effects have little place in her consideration of the films with Cary Grant, Sean Connery and Alfred Hitchcock. Having published her stories to varying reactions, Harriet's writing has become limited to letters to The New Yorker magazine critic Pauline Kael. Which she never posts.Harriet's son Kenny keeps a "gangster's outfit" available for watching movies and visiting his mother's friends. He seems to have no friends of his own. His fascination with movies easily matches that of his mother. He has firm opinions on actors, portrayals, nuances in the making of the videos they watch together. Sister Jane hovers at the edge of the film fanatics, but is still caught up in their debates. Lew Gold, Harriet's beleaguered husband, withdraws from the film buffs when their intensity surpasses his patience. How far will his disenchantment take him? Perhaps as far as their neighbour "luscious Dinah Bloom"?Harriet's relations with Dinah, as well as with her other neighbours, keeps in delicate balance throughout the story. Harriet's writing and film watching have become the focus of a life easily intruded upon. The greatest intrusion comes in the form of her aunt Leah and that widower's stepson Jack. Leah, a badly disguised character in Harriet's book, arrives for a visit - one likely to be extended. She harbours resentment over the book, a feeling built on previous bumpy relations with Harriet. It's a contest of wills, Leah's overbearing manner only slightly modified by being on Harriet's turf. Hay portrays these persona with wit and skill. None are false nor overdrawn. They seem to have taken over the story with Hay simply recording events. Perusing her portrayal of the people and events draws the reader into intimate association with them all. Hay's writing skill borders on a prose version of Mozart. Like his sonatas, her words are carefully chosen and placed. None are out of order. There are no lapses to leave the reader wondering what she meant. Every sentence has a place in the story leading the reader confidently along the narrative. This isn't cold, clinical precision. Her character building is dynamic - they are alive, bickering, plotting, evaluating. Stillness isn't part of the story, even when the character is alone. In Ottawa, with river, canal, parks and spreads of forest, solitude should come easy. In Hay's hands, this little city is fraught with local intensities. Hay is fascinated with weather. Who can blame her, living in Ottawa? Having previously e

Movies have been blamed for social ills ranging from child abuse to revolution. As a pivot of family relationships, however, the movies are rarely a cause. Elizabeth Hay has changed all that in one exquisite stroke. Garbo Laughs is an entertaining and impressive account of a "nuclear family" whose members range from obsessive to indifferent to the enticements of movies. Harriet Browning, a writer, is driven by actors, actresses, directors involved in film. Special effects have little place in her consideration of the films with Cary Grant, Sean Connery and Alfred Hitchcock. Having published her stories to varying reactions, Harriet's writing has become limited to letters to The New Yorker magazine critic Pauline Kael. Which she never posts.Harriet's son Kenny keeps a "gangster's outfit" available for watching movies and visiting his mother's friends. He seems to have no friends of his own. His fascination with movies easily matches that of his mother. He has firm opinions on actors, portrayals, nuances in the making of the videos they watch together. Sister Jane hovers at the edge of the film fanatics, but is still caught up in their debates. Lew Gold, Harriet's beleaguered husband, withdraws from the film buffs when their intensity surpasses his patience. How far will his disenchantment take him? Perhaps as far as their neighbour "luscious Dinah Bloom"?Harriet's relations with Dinah, as well as with her other neighbours, keeps in delicate balance throughout the story. Harriet's writing and film watching have become the focus of a life easily intruded upon. The greatest intrusion comes in the form of her aunt Leah and that widow's stepson Jack. Leah, a badly disguised character in Harriet's book, arrives for a visit - one likely to be extended. She harbours resentment over the book, a feeling built on previous bumpy relations with Harriet. It's a contest of wills, Leah's overbearing manner only slightly modified by being on Harriet's turf. Hay portrays these persona with wit and skill. None are false nor overdrawn. They seem to have taken over the story with Hay simply recording events. Perusing her portrayal of the people and events draws the reader into intimate association with them all. Hay's writing skill borders on a prose version of Mozart. Like his sonatas, her words are carefully chosen and placed. None are out of order. There are no lapses to leave the reader wondering what she meant. Every sentence has a place in the story leading the reader confidently along the narrative. This isn't cold, clinical precision. Her character building is dynamic - they are alive, bickering, plotting, evaluating. Stillness isn't part of the story, even when the character is alone. In Ottawa, with river, canal, parks and spreads of forest, solitude should come easy. In Hay's hands, this little city is fraught with local intensities. Hay is fascinated with weather. Who can blame her, living in Ottawa? Having previously exa