Shaylyn Schwieg

Emily Urquhart, Ordinary Wonder Tales.

Windsor: Biblioasis Publishing, 2022. $22.95.

Ordinary Wonder Tales is a collection of essays that brings wonder tales into the life of everyone who reads it. But what is a wonder tale? Emily Urquhart clarifies this at the beginning of the collection. The term wonder tale, though it is interchangeable with ‘fairy tale’ or ‘folk tale’, better encompasses all the different stories within the genre; “‘wonder tale’ recognizes the ubiquitousness of magic in the stories” (Marina Warner qtd. in Urquhart 5). The term wonder tale also better represents all the stories in this book. This collection offers a blend of enchantment—sometimes eerie or fantastical, hope-inspiring or concerning, by incorporating Urquhart’s personal stories and folklore research. Each essay offers this—from “The Matter” which details Urquhart’s childhood haunting when she lived in Flavigny, France and how it has become a part of her family’s lore; to “Years Thoughts Days” which despite discussing her father’s dementia still manages to find moments of joy and magic.
Urquhart’s writing career preceding this publication has been filled with academic and journalistic work, as well as previous books such as Beyond the Pale: Folklore, Family and the Mystery of Our Hidden Genes, and The Age of Creativity: Art, Memory, My Father and Me.
It is clear that Urquhart brings her background as a journalist to these essays. In “The Matter” this takes shape in how she not only retells her own experiences with the supernatural phenomena in the house in Flavigny but also includes the experiences of the other families who lived in the house before. Urquhart gathers these brushes with the spectre, which her family names ‘Something’s the Matter,’ through interviews with her mother and the people who previously lived in the house. By doing this, Urquhart fills out the work in a way that gives the reader a greater understanding of how personal stories can become wonder tales—all of the people who lived in the house at one time or another can be considered connected, but would they have interacted with each other if they didn’t share their experiences of ‘Something’s the Matter’?  The stories and experiences that create links between people have power, and Urquhart recognizes this too.
Throughout the collection, Urquhart cultivates a theme that stories are the foundation of our lives as much as atoms are at the core of everything around us. The line at the end of “The Matter” highlights this: “my interpretation is that matter forms our physical world, but stories shape the rest” (Urquhart 32). In each of these essays you can see how everyone’s personal stories can and do become important aspects of their lives. This is seen in “The Matter” when the essay discusses how Urquhart’s childhood haunting becomes a regularly told story in her family—a tale important to her children and her parents and their family identity. It is highlighted in the title essay “Ordinary Wonder Tales” which focuses on Urquhart’s pregnancy at the time, along with her research on the locals and summer residents of a small town in Newfoundland and Labrador. The essay highlights how the locals’ personal stories and histories create a community narrative that influences the community more than the reality of who actually lives there and how they act—for example, the locals often remember Urquhart’s rental house at the time as “Violet Brown’s house” even though she has not owned it for years when Urquhart lives there (Urquhart 75).
The essays in Ordinary Wonder Tales often identify correlations between contemporary experiences and folklore to suggest that our stories are our lore. “Lessons for Female Success” is a prime example of this—at first the reader understands that these are warnings for women that Urquhart is imparting through her own harrowing experiences with assault and harassment—and examines the experiences she’s survived involving mugging and flashing. Then we learn how the Child ballads from the British Isles in the 15th century were warnings for women in the past as Urquhart brings in research where “folklorist Polly Stewart analyzed the repertoire of female ballad singers” and found that “the stories within the ballads acted as warnings for the younger women in the audience... [coded to relate teachings in which,] by horrible example, a woman learns how not to get killed” (Urquhart 46). This presents a clear picture of how stories are, and have always been, more than just fun tales to share with one another; they mimic life and act as devices to impart crucial knowledge through generations. With its reference to the well-known Law & Order: Special Victims Unit (1999) television show, readers also get a sense that Ballads—their intentions at least–have taken a new form in our modern society. We’re seeing them in different formats. Urquhart relays this saying; “as I alternated between watching episodes of SVU and listening to [the Child] ballads at Folk Night these two narrative forms grew increasingly close to one another, sometimes overlapping in plot” (Urquhart 45). With this similarity between the two modes of storytelling, during two very different time periods, the reader is shown how wonder tales have simply been personal tales turned into folklore in order to educate audiences. Further drawing on her own personal experiences, the reader gets the sense that Urquhart too is attempting to share her own warnings, turning her personal stories into lore.
On another level, this essay speaks to so many woman’s fears, describing practices I recognize in my own life. This can be seen in how Urquhart “walk[s] home alone with [her] keys arranged between the fingers of [her] closed fist. This way, [she] might have a chance of fighting back if [she] was attacked in the dark streets” (Urquhart 40). This essay speaks to the warnings women have heard throughout their lives. That people in power may try to discredit their experiences; that being alone can be dangerous, that any non-cis male person can be considered vulnerable by those with bad intentions; that violence is expected and women must change their behaviour to shield themselves from it. The essay becomes a tale itself, which warns women and may be worry-inducing, but ultimately says survive, listen and survive.
In “Giving up the Ghost” Urquhart relates how she sees her brother in passing strangers for a long time after his death. This essay meditates on the history of ‘hauntings’ people have experienced after losing a loved one—how often people will see their loved ones after they are gone—sometimes mistaking strangers for them or ‘seeing’ them on street corners, subway cars, and more. Regardless of one’s belief in ghosts, spirits, or other spectral beings, the memories and stories of those who have passed away still take up space in our lives and are very real. Urquhart’s ability to draw on research that examines the phenomena of seeing the dead throughout one’s grieving process, while tying it to her own story of loss, is seamless. It also emphasizes that this is not just a story of one person’s loss, but a story and experience that manifests in many people’s lives as, “for every malady of the human psyche there is a folk tale, and grief provides no exception” (Urquhart 125). One poignant line that hit me straight in the chest was how “unknowing compounded the loss” of her brother, because it is an experience that I have had through the loss of loved ones as well (Urquhart 124). The universal experience shared in this story reflects the way that personal stories become lore. The reader can establish a link with Urquhart’s personal experience, no matter who they are.
In Ordinary Wonder Tales you’ll find that folklore and myth are incredibly real and very much present in our lives today. This collection’s merit in its message and how it conveys that message makes for an incredibly rewarding read. Emily Urquhart’s writing ties together wonder tales, ordinary experiences, and research to open the readers’ eyes to the wonder tales that occupy their lives whether it is in stories regarding family lore, feminism, pregnancy, nuclear contamination, the pandemic, loss of loved ones, or dementia. Much of this collection will lay over my own memories and remind me of their worth—much like how a suncatcher can add magic to your front hall. I feel that reading this collection has enlightened me to the importance of my own family stories and memories and has added a tint of magic to all of them—however mundane they may be. Just like how suncatchers remind you the sun is shining, that there is this little bit of magic in your day, even when it has become something we take for granted or have trivialized. It is a lens through which to look. It is a reminder that our personal stories matter more than we have come to think. This book will, and already is, becoming part of my personal tales in conversations with the people in my life and I hope to spread this collection’s knowledge, warnings, and wonder. It is a reminder of what we are here for–warning others, connecting, finding hope in the hardest of situations, and humour in sad ones–and a reminder that our stories are essential for current and future generations.

Shaylyn Schwieg

is a writer and reviewer from Brampton, Ontario. Currently, she works as the Events and Communications Intern at The Ampersand Review of Writing & Publishing, and studies at Sheridan College—attending its Creative Writing & Publishing Program. She enjoys exploring different genres and basking in the beauty of others’ writing. She is a proud member of the queer community, passionate about mental health awareness, and a strong advocate for environmentalism; all of which tend to be featured in her writing.