The Scent of Light

Gunnars questions what writing accomplishes when memory and emotions are fleeting, in her sophisticated omnibus of autofiction and literary criticism. A line from The Rose Garden: Reading Marcel Proust (1996), one of the five works collected here and originally published in Canada, applies to all of them: “The only requirement made of the reader is that she... be there and notice the particular fragrance.” With their ethereal nature, the novellas are strongest when rooted in place and relationships. The Prowler (1989) provides an enthralling glimpse of mid-century Iceland, told from the point of view of a woman looking back at a childhood of malnutrition and the threat of nuclear war. A woman’s all-consuming grief over her deceased father drives Zero Hour (1991), in which the narrator leaves her family for the bug-infested city of Winnipeg. In The Substance of Forgetting (1992), the narrator reflects on the vitality of her affair with a Quebecois man, contrasted with her life in a remote, tranquil cottage. While the collection feels unbalanced, the texts lend insight on the author’s own process. On the whole, this offers a solid introduction to an intriguing author. (May)