Book Review: Time Enough by Lise Mayne

Time Enough
By Lise Mayne 

Publication Date: 1st January 2025

Publisher: Oprelle Publications

Page Length: 507

Genre: Historical Fiction

A sweeping historical novel about the challenges of emigration and holding on to one's identity and sense of "home."

Emigration comes at a cost, even more so when it's forced. Traditions, culture, belongings, everything must be abandoned. What endures? 1904. A Manx family subsists on a small-hold farm. Their lives are bound by tradition and love, steeped in folklore and belief in faeries. The grandparents, son William, Euphemia and their six children share a tiny cottage. The men work as miners. Despite poverty and the tragic loss of three sons, Grandad upholds the Manx belief: "Traa dy liooar." Like the triskelion, their symbol of the three-legged man, he insists they will not fall. There's time enough; all will be well. When change imposes a critical dilemma, does belief matter? The father, William, is dying of lead poisoning. How will Euphemia and her eldest son, Henry, support them all? William's younger brother, Thomas, offers emigration to Michigan. Euphemia suspects his motives: they started as lovers and parted as enemies. Their history could destroy everything. Henry, almost thirteen, longs to remain with his grandparents. His grandmother makes him promise to help his mother. The die is cast. They must go. After a perilous voyage, their hopes are shattered. Fighting for survival against deception, exploitation and abuse, they stumble along, just. Then, tragedy strikes. William is killed and Euphemia's secret is inadvertently revealed. Devastated, Henry breaks his word and flees. Euphemia must remain to protect her children. Henry travels to Canada, still pining for Man, clinging to his beliefs. The triskelion turns again; Henry falls in love. Now he must confront his mistakes and find a way to heal his broken family, for a new life to begin. On a three-decade journey from Isle of Man to Saskatchewan, via Michigan and Manitoulin Island, we are immersed in the moving saga of Euphemia and Henry as they seek independence and gain strength. 

A sweeping novel about what endures in an unfamiliar place. Can forgiveness restore love and bring hope?

He saw again the Douglas Head Lighthouse off Man disappearing in the distance, as he whispered goodbye to Grandad, Nan, and Blackie. Now, as he overheard the steward say that the lighthouse signalled proximity to Queenstown, he tried to murmur a final farewell to Ellan Vannin, their island home.

Euphemia and her family had little choice in their situation. Her husband, William, was dying, there was no doubt about it. If they continued to rely on his meagre earnings from the mine, he would not survive much longer. Lead from the mines was already coursing through his body, slowly draining the life from him.

It was Nan who wrote the letter to William’s brother, Thomas, who had long since left them for better opportunities in America. Thomas’s reply brought the funds needed for Euphemia, William, and their six children to make the journey to join him in Michigan.

They have no choice. If they want to keep William alive as long as possible and keep their children out of the mines, travelling to join Thomas seems like the only sensible option. However, Euphemia has a complicated relationship with Thomas, and William never truly got along with his brother. They board the ship knowing they are placing their futures in the hands of a man who has an unpredictable nature. But it was a risk they had to take.

“Time Enough” by Lise Mayne tells the compelling story of the Carine family, whose journey of emigration forces them to leave behind their cherished traditions and sense of identity. This powerful family saga will captivate you, drawing you into its depths and leaving you eager to turn the pages. You won’t be able to put this book down!

The journey may be difficult, but the lifestyle change is drastic. Euphemia had given birth to and raised all six of her children with the help of Nan. The children had never known life outside the little cottage they shared with their grandparents on the Isle of Man. Their eldest son, Henry, was especially fond of Nan and shared her belief in faeries. He would join her on daily treks to Faery Hill, bringing a drop of whiskey to offer to the Little Ones. Deep-rooted Manx traditions were incredibly important to Henry, and travelling to America meant leaving his grandparents behind as well as distancing himself from the faeries he cared for so dearly. The heartache the family feels as their connections to tradition are severed so abruptly is almost tangible through the text. Their heritage seems to slip away as the boat carries them from their homeland. Unlike Ann, who clings to her beloved doll, Jenny, the family’s sense of home becomes elusive. The feeling of loss as they leave everything they have ever known behind is raw and painful. Readers cannot help but share in their grief as they turn away from their home and step into the unknown. 

Henry is desperate to be treated as the man he feels inside, but his family comes first, and he will happily take care of little Hugh or try to keep his brothers in line if it means giving his mother a moment of relief from the anxieties of taking six children on the long and draining journey from the Isle of Man to Michigan. His spirit is strong, and he is not afraid to stand up for himself, but when he can, he takes the path of least resistance if it means making things easier for his parents. Henry is wise beyond his years and truly drives this novel forward as he attempts to keep his heritage alive in the New World. His hopes and dreams ebb and flow with the opportunities he encounters, but he is quick to anger and slow to forgive. As his resolve is tested more and more, it becomes increasingly difficult for him to continue sacrificing his time and effort for those around him, and he begins to turn his attention toward his own future. Although Henry shares the narrative with Euphemia, he remains the focal point of this novel, capturing the stark contrast between his homeland and Michigan while providing a rich journey as he grows into the man he has always believed himself to be.

Thomas is instantly unlikeable from the first moments of meeting him. He shows scant concern for the children, maintains a distance from his ailing brother, and seems more interested in impressing Euphemia than anything else. His blatant disregard for the thoughts, feelings, and desires of those around him paints him in a very negative light as he introduces the children to their new home. The difference between him and Henry, in particular, is highlighted by just how easy it is for the reader to fall in love with Henry, who serves to represent the meaning of family and tradition in his kind and caring nature. Within minutes of meeting him, Thomas gives all the children nicknames to fit with a more American lifestyle, caring little of whether the children liked the names or not, effectively snubbing their Manx cultures and immediately separating them from the family members they were named after.

Thomas holds himself in high regard and has little patience for anyone who disagrees with him or tries to argue. He seems unable to empathise with others, which makes him appear self-centred and, at times, threatening. Meanwhile, as William struggles with his health, Euphemia and the children must attempt to establish a new routine that fits their new lifestyle. Given her difficult past with Thomas, Euphemia tries to distance herself from him, but he clings to her like a mosquito, constantly seeking her attention and trying to impress her. Although Euphemia has made some questionable decisions in the past, she has grown into her role in life and found her purpose. Her children are her top priority, and she would do anything to protect them. However, when faced with Thomas, her resolve often wavers; as a result, Henry and some of the younger children must deal with Thomas on their own, for fear of upsetting the delicate balance that keeps a roof over their heads while their father is unwell. The way the family dynamics are portrayed, with Thomas as the ever-intimidating benefactor, creates a sense of tension for the reader. Thomas is wildly unpredictable, and with such a loving family, filled with characters you can’t help but adore, being forced into his house brings an ever-looming sense that something will inevitably snap, whether it happens sooner or later.

This remarkable novel captivates with exquisite lyrical prose from the very first sentence, penetrating deep into your heart and making it nearly impossible to set aside. As you immerse yourself in the story, you walk alongside the characters, experiencing their joys and sorrows as if they were cherished companions. The characters inhabit the pages like the ethereal faeries gliding through the lush grasses of Faery Hill, whispering enchanting secrets in a language that resonates only with those willing to listen. This is not just a book to read; it is an experience to savour, as the beautifully crafted words draw you into their captivating realm. The way this novel captures your heart and imagination is extraordinary, leaving an indelible mark long after the final page is turned. 

Through darkness and light, “Time Enough” by Lise Mayne takes you on a journey of despair and hope as the characters take you by the hand and introduce you to the world they are living in. For fans of family sagas, look no further, for this novel is lacking in nothing.

Review by Ellie Yarde

The Coffee Pot Book Club

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Lise Mayne

Lise Mayne (aka LG Pomerleau) is an author living in Nanton, Alberta, Canada. Becoming Sand, 2012 presented a fictional Francophone family’s four hundred-year history in Canada. Time Enough, Oprelle Publications, 2024, is the saga of a family migrating from Isle of Man to Canada, via Michigan, in the early 1900’s. Lise’s award-winning poetry appears in several international literary publications. Lise volunteers as a bluebird monitor, plays the harp and cherishes her family. 

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Award-winning author Carolyn Hughes shares how to Become a Nun in the Middle Ages #HistoricalFiction #MedievalFiction #RecommendedReading

Sister Rosa’s Rebellion

Meonbridge Chronicles, Book 6

by Carolyn Hughes

Blurb:

1363. When Mother Angelica, the old prioress at Northwick Priory, dies, many of the nuns think Sister Rosa – formerly Johanna de Bohun, of Meonbridge – should take her place. But Sister Evangelina, Angelica’s niece, believes the position is hers by right, and one way or another she will ensure it is. Rosa stands aside to let Evangelina win, but is devastated when she sees how the new prioress is changing Northwick: from a place of humility and peace to one of extravagance and entertainment, if only for the prioress and her favoured few.

Rosa is horrified to see such sacrilegious changes, but dreads too that Northwick will go to wrack and ruin under Evangelina’s profligate and greedy rule. Yet Rosa’s vows of obedience mean she cannot rebel.

In Meonbridge, John atte Wode, the bailiff, is also distraught by what is happening at Northwick. For years, he visited the priory to advise prioress Angelica, and Sister Rosa, on the management of their estates. But Evangelina dismissed him, declaring his advice no longer necessary. Worse, she barred him from visiting Northwick again.

Yet, only months ago, he had met Anabella, a widow who fled to Northwick to escape her in-laws’ demands and threats, but is a somewhat reluctant novice nun. The attraction between John and Anabella was immediate and he had hoped to persuade her to give up the priory and become his wife. But how can he possibly do that now?

Can John rescue his beloved Anabella from a future he is certain she no longer wants? And can Rosa overcome her misgivings and rebel against Evangelina’s hateful regime, and return Northwick to the haven it once was?

Becoming a nun in the Middle Ages

The latest book in my MEONBRIDGE CHRONICLES series, set in medieval England, is Sister Rosa’s Rebellion. In this novel, the storyline centres, not on Meonbridge – as the other novels do for the most part – but on a priory, to which a character in the first Chronicle, Fortune’s Wheel, departed under something of a cloud. That character was Johanna de Bohun, the daughter of the lord and lady of Meonbridge, Sir Richard and Lady Margaret. The shameful motivation behind Johanna’s decision to sequester herself in the priory as Sister Rosa is the primary thread in the story of Sister Rosa’s Rebellion. For when, after fifteen years of contentment, Rosa’s life in the priory is turned upside down, the reason she came to Northwick to become a nun is threatened to be revealed.

However, as I say, my character Sister Rosa had long been very happy with her cloistered life. She had chosen it and it suited her well. But that was not the case for some of her sisters, including the new prioress. And the possible reasons for discontent amongst some nuns in medieval nunneries is the subject of this post.

I’ve obtained my information for this story from Medieval English Nunneries, written in the 1920s by the medieval historian, Eileen Power. It’s through the records of the bishops’ visitations – the means by which all religious institutions were monitored and managed – that Power is able to tell us so much about the various difficulties of medieval nunneries.

One of those difficulties involved the very reason why the nuns were there. Had they entered the nunnery by choice, to pursue a religious life that they believed was their vocation? Or had they been sent there, possibly against their will?

Power makes it clear that at least some of the nuns in medieval nunneries were not there because they had chosen the life. Some were sent as children, others as young women. Power by no means claims that all of them were forced. She suggests that some – perhaps many, or even most? – professed (officially became a nun) happily enough, and might even have developed a vocation for the religious life. But it certainly wasn’t always the case. For those who entered the nunnery unwillingly or, at the very least, without actively consenting, one can imagine the life might have seemed like a form of incarceration.

To send your child to a nunnery was, I suppose, not necessarily done in order to “get rid of” them. The religious life might have been seen as a sanctuary, an honour, or an insurance for the family’s collective soul. But at least some of these youthful internees might have met their fate when devious relatives did want to be rid of them, in order to access their inheritance, for a nun had no claim on her father’s estate.

In other cases, a man with lots of children might send “superfluous” daughters to a nunnery for a lower dowry than he might need to find her a husband. (In fact, canon law forbade the giving of dowries to nunneries but they happened anyway, and indeed were commonplace.)

For some, a career as a nun might have seemed a natural “alternative” to marriage. Indeed, a girl might choose to take the veil willingly, not to say eagerly. She might see it as an honourable life for a girl who was unwilling or unable to marry, or indeed might have a real calling to the life. But, for those forced into the life, unwilling but unable to resist, perhaps out of fear or simply lack of agency, they might well have been miserable.

It is of course impossible to know how many were willing and how many not. But, from Power’s research, it would seem that the majority of nunneries were not full of desperately unhappy, antagonistic women, but were reasonably calm and contented places so, perhaps, regardless of the way they had entered their life, most nuns did learn to accept their fate and make the best of it. We shall never know.

So, why the nuns were there was one of the potential issues that might make, for some, their life a less than happy one. Another was the day-to-day life itself.

In the early days of nunneries, a nun’s day (aside from eating and sleeping) was marked by prescribed periods of prayer, some hours of work, and time allowed for reading and study. But Power tells us that, by the fourteenth century, reading was no longer widespread, and even work occupied less time than it once had, as servants tended to do it. As a result, says Power, “all nuns had was prayer”.

Obviously, those for whom the sequestered life was a vocation, for whom prayer was one of its most important, indeed joyous, aspects, would undoubtedly have relished spending most of their time in chapel. Moreover, even if reading and study had declined overall, nuns with a vocation would surely read and study anyway, so most of their time would be usefully, and happily, occupied.

But for those who had no vocation, the lack of occupation could have rendered their lives as tedium without relief. A dearth of meaningful activity also encouraged some to try and brighten their lives a little, with more colourful clothes, pet dogs and forms of entertainment. It is evident that bishops did attempt to curb these “brighteners”, on the grounds that the nuns weren’t observing the requisite life of simplicity and abstinence, which suggest it was a problem, though how widespread it’s impossible to know.

However, frivolity was one level of failing. How much worse when nuns broke the bounds of morality!

In principle, a nun’s life was “cloistered”: she didn’t leave the confines of the nunnery for any reason. Yet, it seems nuns made all sorts of excuses for escape, and again, that bishops tried to curtail them implies that such getaways were commonplace enough. Some of the “excuses” were probably legitimate enough, especially if they involved visits to a nun’s secular family, but it’s clear too that sometimes nuns took advantage of, say, a weak-willed or incompetent prioress, and ended up visiting ‘improper” places, like monasteries, men’s private houses, or taverns. The latter seems somewhat unlikely but perhaps it has some truth! Anyway, as Power says, for hundreds of years, the bishops were mostly unsuccessful in forcing nuns to stay “cloistered”, and in the end, of course, the nunneries (like the monasteries) were dissolved, with the excessive freedom to “get away” cited as one of the principal reasons.

The authorities’ insistence upon sequestration was, of course, their desire to keep nuns away from men (and vice versa). Chastity was one of a nun’s vows, and (it was presumed) the only way of preventing nature taking its course was to keep her locked up. Nonetheless, she might come across men inside the nunnery: illicit liaisons with priests were certainly recorded in the visitation reports. Moreover, some of the in-house servants might be men, and if a nun engaged in any outdoor work, she might have occasional contact with farm workers. So, opportunities were probably always available for those who wished to find them…

Power concludes that the majority of nunneries were almost certainly perfectly moral, and didn’t have their nuns gallivanting around the countryside or getting themselves into inappropriate liaisons. However, the records of the bishops’ visitations reveal that immoral, even outrageous, behaviour, did occur, some of which led to the inevitable unwanted consequences.

Occasionally, it was the prioress herself who set a bad example. There appear to be a very few examples of prioresses, or even abbesses, who bore several children and even brought them up in the nunnery, which sounds extraordinary. Sometimes it was a nun who got into trouble, and sometimes she left the nunnery – apostatised – perhaps to set up home with her child’s father. Yet it wouldn’t have been a happy answer to her problem, for she risked being excommunicated. Often it seems, the apostate returned to the nunnery and had to undergo arduous penances in order to recover her hallowed status.

However, as I’ve written in my Author’s Note, this picture of a medieval nunnery should not be taken as the norm! I suspect that most of the 140 or so nunneries in Medieval England were probably reasonably tranquil and pious, their nuns working hard to make ends meet as best they could. But, as Eileen Power writes, the evidence from the bishops’ visitations does suggest there were examples where nuns were discontented and caused trouble of one sort or another.

In truth, I feel it’s perhaps surprising that more nuns didn’t succumb to misbehaviour, given the circumstances in which some of them had entered their cloistered life, and the restrictions under which they had to live. Especially when you realise that nearly all nuns came from the gentry and nobility, and might have expected their future lives to be comfortable not constrained!

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Carolyn Hughes

Carolyn Hughes has lived much of her life in Hampshire. With a first degree in Classics and English, she started working life as a computer programmer, then a very new profession. But it was technical authoring that later proved her vocation, word-smithing for many different clients, including banks, an international hotel group and medical instruments manufacturers.

Although she wrote creatively on and off for most of her adult life, it was not until her children flew the nest that writing historical fiction took centre stage. But why historical fiction? Serendipity!

Seeking inspiration for what to write for her Creative Writing Masters, she discovered the handwritten draft, begun in her twenties, of a novel, set in 14th century rural England… Intrigued by the period and setting, she realised that, by writing a novel set in the period, she could learn more about the medieval past and interpret it, which seemed like a thrilling thing to do. A few days later, the first Meonbridge Chronicle, Fortune’s Wheel, was under way.

Seven published books later (with more to come), Carolyn does now think of herself as an Historical Novelist. And she wouldn’t have it any other way…

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