The Cunning Man A Novel by Robertson Davies Played by: Kate Hammer
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Game I Core Wave: "The primary distinction between inside and outside." |
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I love Robertson Davies' novels because they seem so full of eccentric characters and quirky details about history, religion, art and magic. I read my first one the summer before college. Ever since then, I pick up a new or familiar novel by Davies when I want to immerse myself in a world which is unfamiliar but also full of things I am interested in, like alchemy, archetypes and art. Like his other novels, The Cunning Man absorbed me with deceits, journeys, secrets and surprises. The narrator of the novel is Dr. Jon Wullah, a non-traditional doctor in Canada. Dr. Wullah speaks often about how medicine can be rethought, made into an intimate art. "I approach my patients intuitively, with my attennae trembling at every hint from body or speech," the doctor explains, "and when I have found out whatever I can, I do whatever seems to me best." I celebrate this vision of medicine which doesn't hide behind the strengths of science. "My nose is one of my principal diagnostic instruments. I can smell disease, very often. I can smell disquiet. I can smell unhappiness," explains the doctor. Also, he says, "Everybody's speech has a tune, and it is always revealing." Here I see a doctor who uses his eyes, ears and nose to understand another person. It reminds me of Chinese acupuncture, and of a far out chiropractor I used to see. Why would any medical system rely on less? This sense of science and art, or science as art, not either one or the other (one at the expense of the other) is what I remember most about the novel. Davies novels are full of reappearing characters and overlapping references which absorb me like a soap opera. I read about these characters who seem like real people to me and for years after I have thoughts about them as if they were people I once knew, who I half expect to meet again. I find this smudging of life and fiction really potent. I can imagine Dr. Jon Wullah sniffing even now...
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In dealing with my dad's illness (advanced diabetes), I juggle two things: My anger and frustration at his becoming so ill and the ongoing question, "What can I do?" The answer seems to be: some, but not much. From a distance (London to New York) I listen. When we can, we talk and that almost always means we laugh as well. I send him books and cards when he's laid up. I try to forget the part of me that always lurks, waiting for the next bout. Reading the novel, I felt sad that no one attends to the doctor with the focus or wisdom he brings to others. That is an aloneness I don't want my father to feel.
-- Kate Hammer
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