He wrote, she wrote

Several years ago, I completely enjoyed reading Ami McKay's first novel, The Birth House. Set in early 20th century rural Nova Scotia, the book centres around the young Dora Rare, the only female descendant in the Rare family. Through her friendship with the elderly Marie Babineau, Dora learns the trade of midwifery, eventually turning her own home into a 'birth house.' McKay balances stories of tragedy, not unexpected given the time and place, discontent, including Dora's own unhappy marriage to a handsome but scheming con artist, and riotously funny scenes, such as those featuring Dora's Swedish massager.

Contrast this with Christopher Ransom's debut, The Birthing House. Conrad and Joanna Harrison move from California to Black Earth, Wisconsin, to a four bedroom Victorian mansion. Conrad purchases it on a whim, although it turns out that unseen forces may have 'encouraged' his decision. While Jo is away in Chicago for several weeks, Conrad is given an old scrapbook of the house's history by its previous owner, where he sees his own wife's face eerily staring back at him from a hundred year old photograph. If that's not enough to give Conrad the creeps, walking dolls, bloody floors, disembodied newborns' wails, and unusual shadows and reflections will do it. This is not a story of camaraderie and female support as in McKay's book. Here, the act of giving birth is one of supernatural power, one that gives life to the house itself. In its desire to feel the life force of new births, the house, or a presence therein, makes sure that the trend continues.


The contrast between the two books is fascinating. Does it stem from gender issues? Childhood events? Being a parent? Or just simply different interests and imagination? How does the same premise, the story of a birth house, lay the foundations of two vastly different stories, one filled with both joy and not uncommon pain of having children, and one of complete horror and terror? The one similarity is the birth house itself, and the fact that both authors came to live in former birth houses.

Perhaps the answer lies in the spirit of the house itself! If so, don't accept any dinner invitations to the Ransom household.