The Deep

W.J. Keith is a retired professor of English at the University of Toronto and author A Sense of Style: Studies in the Art of Fiction in English-Speaking Canada.

I suspect that only two or three times in a lifetime will a regular
reviewer—if lucky—open an unknown book and realize within a few
pages that he or she is in the presence of an as-yet-unrecognized
masterpiece. Such was my experience in reading The Deep.

It is offered as “a novella” and contains fewer than 90 pages of
text. It consists of 39 titled but unnumbered sections, some of them
fewer than 10 lines in length, the longest a mere seven pages. The plot
is minimal. Two women, identical twins, go to France toward the end of
World War I—presumably from Canada, though this is never made
explicit—to bring what help they can to soldiers just behind the front
line. Each section presents an incident, a moment, an image—most often
from the two sisters, who employ an undifferentiated “we,” sometimes
from other characters, at home or at the war front who fade in and out
of the narrative in almost dreamlike fashion. There are hardly any
battle scenes, but the psychological atmosphere of war and other human
conflicts drives the story relentlessly to its dour conclusion.

A prefatory note tells us that the book is “based on an actual
historical incident” but that characters and events are fictional. It
is dedicated, intriguingly, “For Linda, who found it.”

In the present literary-critical climate, if this book receives any
attention at all (which is, alas, by no means certain), it is likely to
be praised for presenting women’s experience and attitudes in what is
almost invariably regarded as an all-male preserve. This would not be
inaccurate, but it would be hopelessly beside the point. What ought to
be emphasized is the fact that The Deep, Mary Swan’s first book-length
publication, introduces a potentially major writer to the Canadian
scene. This novella is faultlessly written, artfully controlled,
unforgettable. The world of 1918 is splendidly evoked, but, as we read,
we should be responding to the sheer beauty of Swan’s unostentatious
but crisp and impeccable prose. A brilliant debut. Read it.