Softly Blows the Bugle, by Jan Drexler is thoroughly enjoyable. Historical Fiction is my favourite genre to read, and I have discovered a new (to me) favourite author. The writing flows well and the pace is just right. Romance and suspense and integrated historical detail bring alive the setting.
Although the third in a series, it reads very well as a stand-alone. Incidents and people from the previous books are sometimes referred to, but not in a way that creates any gaps in the story.
The main character, Elizabeth, is a young widow. She strayed from the Amish faith of her parents and married a non-believer, too late realizing her mistake. Elizabeth is actually glad to be a widow, as she endured thirteen years of abuse at his hand. Seeing the contrast between her husband and the men of her Amish family, she vows never again to marry someone from outside her community. But never say never. You’ll have to read the book to find out what happens.
I love how the author portrays the various characters with their flaws and thought processes. There are twists and turns in the plot. Characters’ eyes are opened, causing them to undergo changes of heart.
Readers become acquainted not only with the Amish community, but also with the civil war and the then-recent legal emancipation of blacks shown through characters from those realms. One feels with them the despair of their circumstances as well as the peace and joy of putting their trust in Jesus, the Redeemer of our souls.
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I sadly removed the veterans plates from my Ford Escape last month when I renewed my insurance. Veteran’s widows are not allowed to keep them on the car. But I only had to turn in one of them, so I have the other as a souvenir of Sid’s three years in the Canadian army.
Signing Up; A Life-Changing Commitment
In the late ’60s Sid and his brother worked on their cousin’s ranch in the Chilcotin Valley, a vast scenic plain between mountains in mid BC. Taking a break to sit on the fence and chat, their cousin noticed and came over to scold them.
“What are you doing sitting on the fence when you should be working?” he said.
Without thinking, Sid responded, “I’ve decided to join the army.”
His brother went along with it. “Yeah, me too.”
They shoved their few clothes into bags and off they went, south to Vancouver, to enlist; a life-changing commitment made on the spur of the moment. At the enlistment office, next to a beautiful beach, they went in separately for their individual interviews.
The officer scanned Sid’s application. Noticing his unstable, rather wild history, he looked dubiously at Sid. “What makes you think you want to join the army?”
Again Sid surprised himself by replying, “Because I need to learn discipline.”
That was just the right answer, and the officer signed him up on the spot.
Discipline; Physical Training as a Gym Instructor
Sid told me lots of stories of his army days. I suppose he learned some discipline (haha), but some of it was learned in the detention centre. Yes, my Sidney was about as wild as the horses that roam the Chilcotin.
They discovered that he had an interest and aptitude for learning about the physical body, and started him on training in medicine. He enjoyed learning all about muscles and bones, but beyond that he lacked academic discipline to study books.
So they put him in the tank division. He had very good aim for firing tanks and enjoyed that until he got bored of it.
One day he complained a little to the right person, who told him they needed someone to be a gym instructor. This was perfect for Sid. He proudly trained soldiers who subsequently fought in Viet Nam. He thrived on it, and was respected and well liked.
Sid loved to demonstrate to me how he ordered those guys around in exercise routines. He definitely had a knack for it. “Don’t ask the dog if he wants to go out! Tell him. Out, Bear, you little maggot!” he said when I asked the dog, “Do you want to go outside, Bear?”
They offered Sid the opportunity to go to Cypress, but he liked being a gym instructor and he liked Canada, so he passed up on that adventure. Later a friend who went to Cypress told him how he got bored there and shot at sheep on a hillside for something to do.
It was a Significant Phase of Sid’s Life
Just as suddenly as he joined up, three years later Sid quit the army. There was no apparent reason other than that it was time to move on. He returned to his cousin’s ranch. His three years in the army was a significant phase of Sid’s life; an integral part of him. His brother stayed in the army and had a lifetime career in refrigeration, which served him well.
On a sad note, Agent Orange, a deadly chemical, was released at the army base in Ontario when they were there. Many soldiers contracted various types of cancers as a result, which showed up later in life. His brother has suffered several types of cancer, but has had them removed and still lives. Sid was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in early 2019, and passed away from it July 28, 2020.
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I chose The Key to Love because I wanted to read a light romance as a get-away from tough times this year. Thank you, Revell, for choosing me as a reviewer and sending me a copy.
The title and cover promise a sweet love story, with pink and black and a bakery window full of French pasteries. I hoped perhaps this novel would even take me to Paris and I might get a recipe for macarons. But no, the story stays in a town called Story in the heart of rural America.
The Key to Love, by Betsy St. Amant
St. Amant presents us with a taste of Americanized ‘French’ romance. The main character has a French name, as does her love interest. Born and raised in this little American town, she is devoted to it and her career as a French pastry chef in the footsteps of her mother. Her mother had gone to Paris to learn this skill many years ago. The book makes me want to eat petit fours and travel to Paris. The protagonist does eventually get there but disappointingly we readers don’t go with her.
Down-home, messy realities
You will like The Key to Love if you get off on non-stop sarcasm and bickering. To give them credit, the main characters consciously attempt to overcome these habits. However, it takes at least the first half of the book for them to climb out of their rut. Hope exists, though, and there is light at the end of the tunnel.
There is lots of homey humour, and love is seen through acceptance of reality rather than holding out for the imaginary dreamy version. I just wish, as an honest reviewer, that the first two-thirds of the story could have been shortened and the last third developed more. It’s not until the end that we get some more serious thoughts about the real keys to love.
What was the mother’s story?
Some intriguing mysterious threads are only loosely tied up in the end. I hope St. Amant will write a sequel taking readers to Paris with the protagonist. She might research the history of her mother’s time there. Perhaps we could meet the legendary photographer she knew. The author could take us to the places mentioned in The Key to Love and look into the mysteries that she has enticed us with.
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