My Father's Son (General)

Profane and coarse, this book has all the finesse of trench warfare in a mortar attack. It is a book I'd rather my daughters didn't read, yet I feel that they MUST. Like so much of Farley Mowat's work, MY FATHER'S SON gives a chapter of Canadian history that was never taught in school. Brutal, obscene and probably unfair at times, it consists mostly of a collection of letters exchanged between a son and his parents separated by an ocean and a war. It is refreshingly free of political correctness. The blunt honesty of a 20 something nature lover crouched in a slit trench while he dispenses death and comrades die around him -- comes with the uncensored vocabulary of men and women caught in hell. Distilled from the stink of gunpowder and the scream of falling shells in the muddy trenches of Italy, it is 200 proof, uncut. This tea-totaler has gasped at every sip, taken offense at the language and morals, yet ranked it among the most worthwhile books he has ever read. It won't be found on the shelves of Bible Book Stores, with good reason. Yet if this writer had the authority, it would be back in print and mandatory reading before any Canadian could graduate from High School. Out of the many thousands of books I have read over the years, MY FATHER'S SON is a story with few peers. It doesn't fit any genre, it makes its own. It doesn't read smoothly and comfortably, it rends the fabric of cozy prejudice. It doesn't glorify war, it paints it as the hell it is. Perhaps more than anything else, it reminds me of the price my freedom cost, a reminder I don't always want to receive. This is a book that shouldn't be out of print, but copies are readily available on the used book market.

Profane and coarse, this book has all the finesse of trench warfare in a mortar attack. It is a book I'd rather my daughters didn't read, yet I feel that they MUST. Like so much of Farley Mowat's work, MY FATHER'S SON gives a chapter of Canadian history that was never taught in school. Brutal, obscene and probably unfair at times, it consists mostly of a collection of letters exchanged between a son and his parents separated by an ocean and a war. It is refreshingly free of political correctness. The blunt honesty of a 20 something nature lover crouched in a slit trench while he dispenses death and comrades die around him -- comes with the uncensored vocabulary of men and women caught in hell. Distilled from the stink of gunpowder and the scream of falling shells in the muddy trenches of Italy, it is 200 proof, uncut. This tea-totaler has gasped at every sip, taken offense at the language and morals, yet ranked it among the most worthwhile books he has ever read. It won't be found on the shelves of Bible Book Stores, with good reason. Yet if this writer had the authority, it would be back in print and mandatory reading before any Canadian could graduate from High School. Out of the many thousands of books I have read over the years, MY FATHER'S SON is a story with few peers. It doesn't fit any genre, it makes its own. It doesn't read smoothly and comfortably, it rends the fabric of cozy prejudice. It doesn't glorify war, it paints it as the hell it is. Perhaps more than anything else, it reminds me of the price my freedom cost, a reminder I don't always want to receive. This is a book that shouldn't be out of print, but copies are readily available on the used book market.

This is another fine memoir from the author of "And No Birds Sang," "The Regiment," and "Aftermath," all books relating in part, to Farley Mowat's participation in the Second World War. (Although "The Regiment" does not specifically concern Mowat's adventures, much of its path is common to his own.) "My Father's Son" is also a tribute to his father Angus, and acknowledges the contribution made by him to Mowat's progress as a writer. Mowat senior was also a published author, but never achieved the pre-eminence of his son. Most of the book is concerned with the military details of Mowat's own experience, starting with his failed attempt to be inducted into the army due to his youthful appearance! He eventually succeeded in getting into the Hasty Ps, his father's regiment. So father and son were able to salute each other in uniform for a time, the one as a major, the other as a private. From there we are taken through the lengthy process of training, embarkation, arrival and billeting in England and the further long wait to go to war. Those who know Mowat's writing will enjoy this book for the usual reasons; there is an urgency to his writing and a singular facility for finding the right words, even for conveying the mundane. Those who are interested in Mowat the person, will as usual, find him hesitant to completely open up about his personal life. Never mind; he tells us a great deal about himself by leaving certain things unsaid. This is a good read if you can find it.