Product Description

What is more devastating than the death of a child? When Harry, the local cop, knocks on Paul Unger's door early one morning to give him the grim news -- that his son, Stephen, has been found drowned -- Paul descends into a grief that carries him to a dark and unfamiliar place.

See the Child is an extraordinary exploration of love and loss: between parent and child, man and woman, grandfather and grandchild. Paul Unger has a comfortable life, but it starts to unravel when his son becomes involved with a provocative young woman, Nicole. Soon his world is overturned, Stephen is gone, and he is left to question his own role in the death. When, several years later, Nicole returns to town with a child who might be Paul's grandson, Paul imagines in both of them a path back to his son.

Set in small-town Manitoba and reaching to Montana and back, See the Child is a haunting and beautifully rendered observation of sorrow. Acclaimed Canadian novelist David Bergen brings to his landscapes a series of indelible portraits: Paul's wife, Lise, who tries to understand why he must leave her; Harry, who desires Lise but knows he cannot keep her; Sky, the child who seems to bear the imprint of the dead Stephen; Wyatt, the gun-toting lumberjack who wants Nicole and Sky; and Paul, a man who must first forgive himself before he can go forward with his life.

Written with tenderness, eloquence, and an exquisite sensuality, See the Child explores the healing power of time and the nature of love.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #6391107 in Books
• Published on: 1999-01
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Hardcover
• 234 pages

From Publishers Weekly
Bergen (A Year of Lesser) explores death, grief and guilt, and the interplay among them in this plaintive, deeply moving novel. Paul Unger, a prosperous middle-aged man living in a small town in Manitoba, wakes up one night to the news that his alienated teenage son, Stephen, is dead. Paul's resulting spiral of depression tears apart his marriage and drives him to isolate himself on his farm, where he throws himself into bee husbandry. When Nicole, Stephen's sluttish girlfriend, comes back to town with a child, Paul cleaves to them with a fierce intensity. While creating a powerful bond with his grandson, Sky, he also seeks solace and answers in Nicole: what exactly was her relationship with his son? Did she love him? Are her current intentions mercenary or genuine? The three form an odd family unit, living on the farm even as gossip swirls about in town and in the Unger family. Paul emerges as an oddly bifurcated figure. At times, his grieving is brought into sharp focus, and the pain of a father exposes itself as biting, guilt-ridden and ubiquitous. Yet he remains curiously dispassionate when confronted with danger, both physical and emotional. Bergen writes with a precision that reveals every detail, every action, carefully depicting Paul's emotional vulnerability and his need to determine how much he is responsible for his son's death and the fate of his grandson. Each of the secondary characters inhabits a tangible reality, whether it's the burly, rather menacing Montanan with whom Nicole trysts or the endearingly pathetic wife of the local constable who propositions Paul in a painfully awkward scene. This authenticity deepens the novel's perspective, allowing this compassionate tale of mourning to be told with graceful honesty.
Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information, Inc.

From Booklist
Following his acclaimed A Year of Lesser (1997), Bergen offers another quiet, moving novel set in the stark landscapes of small towns and Canadian prairies. When his rebellious young-adult son dies, Paul Unger's seemingly tidy, satisfying life unravels. His marriage disintegrates, and he retreats into beekeeping, a longtime hobby. Paul's son left behind a girlfriend and a baby. It's those two who draw him out again, as well as his own wife and daughter, and it's Paul's nearly moment-by-moment scrutiny of these shifting domestic relationships that form the story. The question "Who are we to each other?" lingers, along with larger questions about how best to live gracefully, despite sin, and care for the soul; is it through work, parenting, sex, or love? Taken as a whole, the book loses some of its intensity. Best are the moments, written in Bergen's tender, unflinching, precise language, that capture private revelations between people--a parent's awareness of his child's sexuality; a husband's discovery, in his middle-aged wife's face, of the woman he married. An uneven whole of beautiful parts. Gillian Engberg
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved

Review
The Toronto Star See the Child confirms Bergen as one of the country's finest novelists. -- Review

Customer Reviews

A deeply moving novel written in luminous prose
I was not far into this novel, which opens with a father's loss of his son and his feeling of guilt about that loss, when I began to feel that this was one of the saddest stories I'd ever read. Before long, however, that feeling changed: the book becomes a delicate, deeply nuanced, and brilliantly written meditation on grief and the human condition. (I know that sounds corny, but this really is the genuine article!) I'm a wide reader of contemporary Canadian fiction, and this is one of the very best and most moving books I've read in years. (For readers of contemporary American fiction, think of writing in the tradition of the later Jim Harrison -- _Dalva_ or _The Road Home_ -- but even better!) This book makes me aware once more of just how good Canadian writers can be on the question of responsibility and the complexities of the family dynamic (think: _Fall on Your Knees_; _Crow Lake_; _Fifth Business_; _St. Urbain's Horseman_; Alice Munro; David Adams Richards). On the evidence of this one book, Bergen is the best undiscovered novelist in Canada. I can't wait to catch up with the rest of his work.

See the Child
It is hard to find a novel that captures and stimulates my heart to the same extent as it challenges my intellect, however I strongly believe that I have succeeded in this task. I would describe "See The Child" as a diamond in the rough, a chilling-yet brilliant storyline that plays with the innocence on a child, and the morbid thoughts of an adult. David Bergen, the mastermind behind the novel, enable me to in vision the characters and become so attached to them that I sincerely felt that I knew them, and wanted them to prosper and be happy within their lives. At many times, as I vigorously turned the pages to satisfy my eagerness to read on, I had to remind myself that it was only a book; the plot was fictionist, regardless of how I had already put faces to each character. The vocabulary used, sparked an interest of mine. Bergen never attempted to utilize fancy terminology to impress his audience, yet at the same time was so descriptive and emplaced every last action, thought, and emotion in which the characters underwent. As I said in the latter statements, this tool enabled me to grow a strong sense of appreciation for the characters, especially the main character Paul Unger, which in turn allowed me to feel connected to him, almost as if I was his friend. The ideas and dialect behind the novel are quite simplistic, yet miraculously "See The Child" carries such beauty and exquisiteness that makes it truly one-of-a-kind. Doors open in every page that allow for the reader to grow a deeper understanding of the innocent actions of a child, and shows us how gentle the world can seem in his eyes. On the contrary, takes us into the mind, body and soul of true human nature, and mocks our behaviours. To say that this novel kept my interest would be an understatement, and I strongly urge the open-minded souls to open their hearts and mind to "See The Child", and experience a ravishing tale first hand.

A FATHER'S GRIEF
Many people have expressed the opinion over the centuries - but I believe I remember Sri Ramakrishna, a Hindu saint of the 19th century, saying that `...there is no greater pain than that of a parent who outlives a child'. SEE THE CHILD deals with that sort of pain and grief, and does so in a deeply moving (but never maudlin) manner - with intelligence, insight, and fine writing.

The central character of David Bergen's wonderful novel is Paul Unger. He lives in a small town in Manitoba, near Winnipeg, with his wife Lise, daughter Sue, and his son Stephen. As is often the case in families (I almost added `modern', but I'm sure these tensions have been present in one form another since the dawn of civilization), there is strife between father and son. Stephen is eighteen, and is pushing the envelope of parental control, trying to find his own way in life. He takes up with a young French-Canadian girl, Nicole Forêt - she is beautiful, and a little too `wild' to suit Paul. He can easily sense that she will bring pain and suffering into his son's life. He also knows that simply telling his son what he sees in store for him will do no good whatsoever, so he feels that he has no choice but to allow the relationship to run its course.

One morning Paul is awakened from sleep by a knocking at the door. It comes from the knuckles of his friend Harry, the town constable - Harry is the bearer of sad tidings indeed. Stephen has been found dead, lying facedown in a pool in a muddy field. He had gone to a party, gotten drunk, stumbled and fell into the shallow pool and drowned. Paul's grief at the death of his only son is compounded by the burden of guilt that comes to rest on his shoulders, on his very soul. Just a few days before Stephen's death, the boy had been caught breaking into the family business, in an apparent burglary attempt - and the confrontation over this incident, as well as the pattern seen by Paul emerging in Stephen's life, had resulted in an ugly argument between father and son. Paul had sent Stephen away from the house, and when the boy returned after a short while, unable to find friends with whom he could spend the night, Paul had not opened the door to him. This scene will come back to haunt the grieving father again and again - consciously and subconsciously - throughout the story.

After Stephen's funeral, Nicole reveals that she is pregnant. Lise, Stephen's mother, is doubtful that the child is Stephen's - but Paul accepts it as the truth. When Sky, Nicole's son, is born, Paul sees in the child a chance at redemption for himself - and a connection to the son he has lost. Paul's journey through this stark emotional landscape and his attempts to cement a relationship between himself and his grandson, as well as with Nicole, form the bulk of the novel. Paul's marriage suffers greatly under the weight of his grief for Stephen and the guilt that he bears - and that's an awful weight to place upon a marriage. He soon recognizes that there is no way he's going to change Nicole into a `settled' mother for Sky - and his attempts to hang on to his relationship with the two of them are understandable and heartbreaking at the same time.

Bergen's characters are well wrought - ones with whom the reader can easily identify. We have all known people like those depicted in this story - we live among them, they inhabit the towns where we dwell, as well as the families we cherish. They are basically good people, some are just more confused than others as to how to deal with the hand they've been dealt - some make good choices, some make bad ones. Life is a continuous lesson in itself - and this novel portrays that process in a deep, gentle way - and in a way that both illustrates and strengthens the healing abilities we hold within us. It's a moving story, masterfully told.