From Anna's Diary - How do I love thee?

I don’t know how this is possible, but I find myself drawn to this man, this priest, Christopher Dryden. How can anything whole and healthy survive between us? I have led such a life that, even to tell it would shock him to the core. As for him, he leads a life I would find dreadfully boring. It’s all routines and ritual and sacrifice.

But still, I must admit to an unavoidable attraction. It has something to do with his pure convictions, and the way he looks at me, not as a woman so much as a work of art. I’m tired of being looked at as a woman, as an available woman, as a woman that miners can resort to when their passions must be relieved. I do want to leave this life of bondage to men’s crude lusts. But if that were my sole attraction to Christopher I would squash it underfoot.

The odd thing is, despite all his talk of creeds and salvation and eternal damnation, he has already forgiven me my sins without my having bowed to any of it. I can tell by the way he looks at me that Christopher cannot bear to condemn me to perdition. I am a torment to him, and a balm, and love being his perpetual contradiction in the flesh. In a peculiar way his perplexity delights me because it makes him fallible as well as pure. I do not want to destroy his faith, but am not content to leave it unchallenged. For in my heart I know he desires me as something more than an ideal, and I think he will be a lover such as I have never known.

Just who's saving who here?

My reading of Red Lights on the Prairie has shifted the centre of gravity for Stained Glass somewhat. Anna Armstrong has become much more prominent.

Madame Blavinsky's offer to finance the installation of the stained glass window in St. Saviour's is really an act of vengeful pride. Having been slighted by the high society types for the 'social evil' she has brought down on the community, Madame Blavinsky wants to leave a permanent testament to her own power and impunity. What better vengeance than to have the congregation look through her stained glass window every Sunday when they gather in their church.

Christopher Dryden does not see the situation for what it is. He accepts her gift as a token of repentance, which he has a moral obligation to accept. Anna, who is Madame Blavinsky's agent and confidant, knows very well what her mistress is up to and, despite her occupation as a prostitute, abhors Madame's tactics and motives. Increasingly unhappy with her role in the affair, she wants to warn the naive Reverend about the danger to him and his ministry, and hints broadly at the nature of Madam's gift. But Anna is afraid to betray outright the woman who controls her livelihood, and who can visit a terrible punishment on her girls.

Anna lets Reverend Dryden 'save her' from her sinful occupation because she loves him. For his part Reverend Dryden, whose naivety is somewhat feigned, enjoys being saved because he believes it's in Anna's best interests to think she's committing a saintly act on his behalf... and because he loves her! Their feelings for each other are sublimated through the lens of Victorian morality and righteousness, but cannot forever be contained by that inhibiting set of values, which are not meant to be applied to all people, at all times.

Sketch: The Shard

It sat in its cradle of wood, transubstantiating the crisp white light of a fall afternoon. Grandmother had placed it on her kitchen windowsill, which faced southeast, looking out toward Newcastle Island and Nanaimo Harbour. I had never noticed it before, but it had been there all along, refracting the brilliance that poured in on sunny days; dimmed somewhat, when scudding clouds roiled in off the Strait of Georgia; inanimate after nightfall, when the only available light was the crass effulgence from her kitchen fixtures.

One day Mother would inherit this heirloom. But that was a long way off. And it would be an even longer time before I took any serious interest in the shard. As a child I didn't really recognize the image of Mary Magdalen etched into the fragment. I was more interested in the unformulated patterns of light that played tricks with my eyes, and ended up splayed on the scuffed linoleum of my Grandmother's kitchen floor. Pretty, was the only word I had to describe the sensations that light caused. But even then, it meant so much more to me.

"That belonged to your Great-Grandmother Anna Dryden," Grandmother informed me. She knew just how meaningless her concatenation of genealogy would be to a four-year-old, so she didn't press the matter. Now, when I think of it, I realize that Grandma was Anna Welland's daughter-in-law, and that her husband Cameron was Anna's only son, and that the tendrils of relationship extend back that far. Farther than I ever could have imagined, before Mother told me more about that remarkable piece of glass.

I had hoped to own it someday - but Brenda has laid claim to it too.

Funny to think a shard of glass would become such valued treasure that it would be contested article in Mum's estate. But neither Brenda nor I are good losers, and even though Mum's not dead yet, we're already scrapping over it. I think it's rightfully mine because I did the research that added a historical dimension to what was, after all, merely a shiny object. Brenda believes it's hers by some feminist variant of logic that adds up to a quasi-legal birthright. She's not at all interested in sharing. Which is just as well, because I don't want to share it either, even though I made the suggestion. "You'll just have to come over and visit more often so you can have a look at it when it's sitting in my kitchen window," was her last word on the subject.

Actually, the kitchen window reference is anachronistic. The Shard of Mary hasn't sat in Grandmother's kitchen window for almost 20 years. When Dad inherited it Mother placed it on top of the piano in their living room. Neither of them seemed bothered by the fact that it would never be activated by direct sunlight as long as it sat there. They seemed content to leave its luster dulled by the drab, brown wall behind. Didn't bother me much, either, until later. Truth is, I experienced an evanescent epiphany when I first saw the stained glass fragment on Grandmother's windowsill, then I forgot about it. It became a glittery part of her world beyond reach or significance.

Further Notes:

• There will be analogies drawn between the coloured glass and hallucinations brought on by Kyle's use of drugs in his hippie youth;
  
• The fragment was picked up by Anna Armstrong after the window in St. Saviour's had been shattered by the opponents of Rev. Christopher Dryden.
• She kept it as a memento her entire life, having the edges of the shard capped in copper and a little stand built for it.
• Mary Magdalen's profile along with a glimpse of halo is captured in the fragment.
• Anna and Christopher were left alone in the church after Madame Blavinsky and her girls fled the window's dedication service - they and a few miners had been the only ones in attendance.
• Christopher continued with the service even after the newly installed stained glass window had been shattered. After the service he sat with Anna alone in St. Saviour's to pray.
• She had not accepted his proposal for marriage at that point. She knows after that service that she will, and that they will have to leave Barkerville.
  
• The shard symbolized all that for Anna, and Kyle is the one who will rediscover the story in the glass.
  

Anna Armstrong

A young prostitute, Anna has been chosen by Madame Blavinsky to seduce Rev. Dryden. Young and pretty, she is an odd combination of innocence and toughness. She is ill-suited to the assignment she has been given. More so because she will take an instant liking to Christopher, which will place her in an acute dilemma. Anna knows how things work and how dangerous it can be to thwart the instructions of Madame, to whom she owes allegiance.

Essentially, Anna is an unstable character because she is constantly switching between two persona. On the one hand she is child-like, wanting to step backward in time so she can start her life over and avoid the unfortunate circumstances she finds herself in; on the other, she has to be hard nosed if she wants to avoid being completely downtrodden as a 'working girl' in Madame's employ. Fear triggers the latter persona; craftiness and love the former. She knows herself well, and knows the young innocent can sometimes make headway when the hardened street girl cannot. Anna consciously uses that aspect of her divided personality.

But the young innocent is real, too. Anna really does want to become that girl whose future is unformed and who can make whatever she wants of her life. She will only show that side of herself to someone she loves deeply and trusts completely.

Things I don't know about Anna:

• How did she end up a prostitute?
• Where did she come from and how did she get into the service of Madame Blavinsky?