With Glowing Hearts

By Dorota Szczepanska

Since the closure of the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympic and Paralympic games, the level of fervour has noticeable died away, as Olympic memorabilia is taken down, visitors return home, and the streets of Vancouver are no longer barricaded to accommodate the sudden increase of festivities. As Vancouver reverts back to habitual existence, columnists such as Erin Anderssen, a writer for the Globe and Mail, ask: how long will the patriotic glow for Canada remain since the conclusion of the games?

Anderssen takes her inquiries to individuals such as Historica-Dominion Institute president Andrew Cohen, who believes that “[w]earing a pair of mittens, waving the flag, buying a Tim Hortons coffee and singing the national anthem are not huge acts of patriotism. They're easy” (Anderssen ¶7). In Cohen’s viewpoint, it would be more beneficial in the long run to transfer the energy and enthusiasm towards programs to “fight child obesity or to inspire young Canadians to vote” in order to build the nation (¶6)

Cohen’s approach may be shared by many other individuals, but consequently, it narrows patriotism to a box, suggesting that it must be substantial and somewhat more difficult then purchasing a coffee at Tim Horton’s in lieu of Starbucks in order to be truly patriotic. More importantly, it implies that patriotism must be based on action alone, as opposed to personal attitude. The truth is that most Canadians will never perform a “large” patriotic action, such as peacekeeping duties in Afghanistan, running in government, or saving the world Jack Bauer-style from terrorists. Furthermore, the majority will not create programs to fight childhood obesity or encourage young adults to vote in the elections, although some will participate with varying amount of enthusiasm.

Patriotism should not be solely defined as small or large, difficult or easy, but should be based on personal attitude of the individual as well. This is certainly exemplified in L.M. Montgomery’s novel Emily of New Moon, as the protagonist Emily, returns to her home at New Moon Farm after spending a vacation with her Great-Aunt Nancy at Wyther Grange:

And she was sorry to leave Wyther Grange; she had grown to love the old beautiful house, with its flavour of hidden secrets— a flavour that was wholly a trick of its architecture [. . .] She was sorry to leave the bay shore and the quaint garden and the gazing-ball and the chessy-cat and the Pink Room bed of freedom; and most of all she was sorry to leave Dean Priest. But on the other hand, it was delightful to think of going back to the New Moon and all the loved ones there— Teddy and his dear whistle, Ilse and her stimulating comradeship, Perry with his determined reaching up for higher things, Saucy Sal and the new kitten that must need proper training now, and the fairy world of the Midsummer Night’s Dream. Cousin Jimmy’s garden would be in its prime of splendour, the August apples would be ripe. Suddenly, Emily was very ready to go. She packed her little black box jubilantly and found it an excellent chance to work in neatly a certain line from a poem Dean had recently read to her which had captured her fancy.

“’Good-bye, proud world, I’m going home’,” she declaimed feelingly . . . (Montgomery 276-77).

When Emily returns to New Moon, she begins to find new appreciation for old things in the farmhouse, which she failed to notice before:

In the old kitchen the candles were lighted and their flames were dancing in the winds of the August night blowing through door and window.

“I suppose you’ll not like candles very well, Emily, after being used to lamps at Wyther Grange,” said Aunt Laura with a little sigh. It was one of the bitter, small things in Laura Murray’s life that Elizabeth’s tyranny extended to candles.

Emily looked around her thoughtfully. One candle sputtered and bobbed at her as if greeting her. One, with a long wick, glowed and smouldered like a sulky little demon. One had a tiny flame— a sly, meditative candle. One swayed with a queer fiery grace in the draught from the door. One burned with a steady upright flame like a faithful soul.

“I—don’t know—Aunt Laura,” she answered slowly. “You can be—friends—with candles. I believe I like the candles best after all.”

Aunt Elizabeth, coming in from the cook-house, heard her. Something like pleasure gleamed in her gulf-blue eyes.

“You have some sense in you,” she said (281).

What is important about Emily’s approval of candles at New Moon, rather unique in their antiquitous use for that present era, is that she is voicing her larger approval and love for her family and home. Her love for her aunts, cousin, and friends supersede concerns of luxury or comfort, and she takes on a patriotic attitude towards the farm, even for its little eccentricities, which other individuals mock.

Taking an example from Emily, Canadians may be patriotic without daily celebrations of flag-waving to affirm their love for their country, or even establishing grand, long-term national programs for the nation. Ultimately, the aspect of “true patriot love” lies in the Vancouver 2010 Olympic motto: with glowing hearts. Yes, it is trope with a dash of cheesiness, but it asserts the heart of patriotism as belonging to, well— the heart. Even if patriotism cannot be measured through visibility or action, it does not mean it fails to exist, nor is it suppressed until the next Olympics come to town— or a really great hockey game, eh?

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Works Cited

Anderssen, Erin. "Canada's Incredible Golden Glow: How Long Will It Last?" Globe and Mail [Toronto] 5 Mar. 2010, National sec. Globe and Mail. CTVglobemedia Publishing Inc., 5 Mar. 2010. Web. 17 Mar. 2010.

Montgomery, L. M. Emily of New Moon. 2nd ed. Toronto: Seal, 1998. Print.