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The Long Walk Back by Elizabeth Savoie 248 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #03-2025; ISBN 1-4120-1648-7; US$22.50, C$25.95, EUR18.50, £13.00 The novel begins with Miriam, an intelligent, optimistic child starting the long walk to school where she dreams that a whole new world of opportunities will open out for her.
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About the Book
The novel begins with Miriam, a intelligent,
optimistic child starting the long walk to the school
house where she dreams that a whole new world of
opportunities will open out for her. She excels
academically, but insecure and uncertain of her role
in a rural, uneducated family, she finds herself
bullied by the older children, including her siblings.
A move to the city when she is fourteen shows her
thrust into situations for which she has no
preparation, and results in a teenage pregnancy in
which she is definitely the victim, although she is
blamed and it nearly tears the family apart. She
continues to allow circumstances to control her life
through one relatively successful marriage which ends
in tragedy, and one miserable one. Finally, against
the advice of her family, she takes control of her
life, and pays the necessary price to do so.
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About the Author
Elizabeth Savoie was born and raised in New Brunswick,
Canada, as is familiar with the rural and urban
setting of her novel. As a teenager and young adult
she wrote short stories and dreamed of becoming an
author. Life got in the way - marriage, children,
work. She did supply-teaching, office work, and is
presently a licensed lay minister.
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Excerpt
Miriam felt the solid surface beneath her shift
suddenly and give way. She flung her arms out,
struggling for balance, but there wasn't any solid
ground under her. There was only ice, and the ice
only appeared to be solid. It was shifting, moving,
breaking, tilting. Then there was water rushing around
her, closing over her, and she went down, down, into
the cold and dark. She struggled against that cold and
dark, the water all around her.
There was light somewhere. She reached upwards toward
the light, threshing, fighting towards the light. She
had to reach that light. It was life. And around her
the darkness and the cold were death.
She almost made it! She gasped for air. There were
others around her, their hands reaching out to her,
grasping, grabbing, begging, desperate for help; help
from her. And there was no one to help her.
There was a child with her in the water, its hands
reaching out to her. She had to save the child. She
renewed her struggle.
Then she was cold, colder than she had ever been
before in her life. Cold to her very innermost parts,
to her very being. Cold had replaced the water. It
was the enemy. Cold swirled around her; cold and
darkness were sinking into the depth of her life
force. And again, people were there with her in the
cold and the dark. People sobbing quietly, people
crying out, people shouting at her; asking, demanding
something of her. What did they expect? She was cold,
so cold, and so exhausted. Why didn't they leave her
alone so that she could submit to the cold.
She saw Bruce! Bruce was surrounded by warmth and
light. He was coming for her, reaching out to her.
Bruce had come to help her. And in the light she saw
someone with him: a child like no other, a child with
curly black hair and shining eyes: a child that glowed
with warmth and light. She knew this child, even
though the last time she had seen it, it had been a
baby, and now it was a child of uncertain age. She
recognized her child even before Bruce spoke.
"Look, Miriam. I found Elizabeth. She was waiting for
us. She came for me. Come with us now, Miriam. Come.
We love you. We want you."
The child was reaching out to her. "Mummy, mummy,
come with us."
Miriam was cold, oh so cold. They offered warmth and
light. They wanted her. They could pull her from the
cold and the darkness and save her. But what about the
child whimpering in her arms?
"Bring him, Mummy. Bring my little brother."
Somewhere another child was crying, screaming,
pulling her into the darkness, away from these
creatures of warmth and light. Somewhere in the
swirling cold other hands were reaching out to her.
Other voices were shouting at her. She was torn. There
was love and warmth and comfort on one side; and so
many demands on the other; a never ending struggle but
in it she would find her strength and the place where
she belonged. And the child would be with her.
Catalogue Information
