I don't think there was a single story in Andrea Barrett's story collection, Ship Fever, that I didn't like, but I loved most the novella at the very end from which the collection takes its name. It is just under a hundred pages and it alone makes the book a very worthwhile read (I wrote about most of the stories and enjoyed them all). As in all the other stories nature and science plays an important role, though of course it is how the characters interact and how they live and deal with the natural world that is at the heart of each story. Nearly all the stories take place at different periods, which makes them all the more interesting to me since so much was unknown and it is fascinating how discoveries were made, how science progressed and changed our lives.
"Ship Fever" is set mostly in Canada during the mid-1800s just when Ireland was experiencing the potato famine and so many Irish were emigrating to North America. At the time the US was tightening its restrictions on immigration which meant an overflow of Irish into Canada. And the Irish who were arriving were more often than not ill. Barrett really illuminates the situation and its nuances and shows how the sickness was exacerbated by the way in which the emigrants were transported across the ocean.
Stories like this, that are set in the 19th century and move from place to place lend themselves so well to the use of letters and journals to move the action along. Once again it's scientists--doctors who tell the story, but not entirely. There is more than just the science going on--there is unrequited love and strained marriages. There are heroes and heroines in unexpected places and an ending that is not exactly happy, really a little surprising, but quite tidy and satisfying nonetheless.
"Ship Fever" opens in Ireland and it is through a long letter from a physician husband to a friend and colleague back in Canada that the scene is set. The husband is not just a doctor but is a writer trying to force a change in how Irish emigrants are treated. He works long and hard and publishes articles in all the important papers to try and change opinion and more importantly is tirelessly working to change minds of those in Parliament to affect real change. His wife sits at home wishing for something important to do, or at the very least looking for more from her husband rather than a short mention in a letter to his friend. And his friend, Dr. Lauchlin Grant, a longtime friend of Susannah and Arthur Adam Rowley reads this letter aloud and embellishes it to her. He realizes just how unsatisfactory it must sound to her ears. And it pains him since he himself harbors a secret admiration and deep affection for this old friend.
As a man and a doctor and a gentleman he can go and do as he pleases and it pleases him to try and help the sick. This means going to the quarantine station at Grosse Isle where the ships must anchor and passengers are checked for signs of sickness before being allowed to travel on to Montreal or sent further afield as the trickle of ships turns into a veritable flood. And some of those aboard carry the sickness and thanks to the overcrowding, the dirt, the poor diet and general uncleanliness the fever begins to approach epidemic proportions.
Over the course of six months quite a lot happens. So many ill die, so many emigrants arrive with half their family ill or dead and they are wrenched from each other--the sick remaining behind while the healthy, healthy being a pretty elastic term at the time, send onwards. And those healthy later turn ill and bring the contagion into the cities. It must have been a harrowing time on a number of levels--aside from the terrible traveling conditions, what was meant to be a happy time of new futures often meant immense sadness and separation. And how the sick were handled, literally really, was not really very sanitary or hygienic. I knew a little, but had no idea the extent to how far reaching the famine extended.
In his journal Dr. Grant writes:
"In Paris, I thought of medicine as a science. I thought that by understanding how the body worked, I might cure it when diseased. What's going on here has nothing to do with science, and everything to do with politics--just what John Jameson tried to tell me. Jameson has the fever now. I look out at the harbor and all I can think is: Stop the ships. Stop the ships. This although I know, from talking to Nora, that to forbid further emigration from Ireland would be to condemn those people absolutely."
How often in life does it come down to economics? And cleanliness? This was a wonderful story. She's always so subtle in her storytelling--there are always little kernels of truth but mostly there is a lot of humanness. It's easy to care about her characters and how they fit into the world, and the imperfect world and how far we've come.
I am not sure where my story reading will take me in the next few weeks. Only three more short story Sundays? More wrapping up and trying to finish a few other collections I have dipped into. Or maybe I will return to my Big Book of Christmas Mysteries or some other new story collection? Check back next Sunday to find out!