Ruth Anne Latta

 Interview with Ruth Latta about A Striking Woman (Ottawa, Baico, 2023) Q: Who and what was the inspiration for A Striking Woman? A: The novel was inspired by a period in the life of the trade union leader Madeleine Parent (1918-2012). I won’t say that it is “based on” her life because to say that suggests that it is one hundred per cent faithful to her life events, and it isn’t.  A Striking Woman is historical fiction; it isn’t biography and it isn’t scholarly history.  That’s why I’ve called my central character, “Jacqueline,” not “Madeleine.” Like all novelists, I have created scenes and characters and have given fictional names to some people, organizations and places, but not to others. Characters derived from real people mingle with imagined ones and composites. I’ve changed family configurations and certain characters’ backgrounds. The emotions, behaviours, beliefs and opinions that I have given my characters are the product of informed guesswork and some of the characters hold

TOIL AND TROUBLE My husband, a retired scientist, is also interested in my field, history. Recently he drew my attention to a "history" article in his latest copy of Scientific American . In their article, "Witch Hunts," authors Silvia Federici and Alice Markham Cantor relate outbursts of accusations and persecutions for witchcraft tend to occur with times of massive upheaval caused by the transition to capitalist economies. Speaking of the European witch crazes of the 16th and 17th century, they write: "Although popular imagination regards the trials as outbreaks of mass delusion and superstition, the fact that they peaked between the 1580s and the 1630s, a time of massive upheaval as a capitalist economy emerged, suggests a different story." Multiple factors combine to produce witch hunts, they write. These include a belief in sorcery; patriarchal society; sudden deaths resulting from lack of health care; inaccessible justice systems that favour attacker

STARTING SCHOOL by Ruth Latta      When I started Grade One at Savard Consolidated School, back in 1952, I had yellow hair like Baby Sally in the primary reader and was very nervous about leaving my family all day, five days a week. My mother, who used to teach the primary grades at our two room rural school, told me that I would be fine.      Living on  a backwoods farm in Northeastern Ontario, I hadn’t much experience with other children. My sister, who was three when I started school, was a good companion, though a bit young.  My four cousins, who, at the time, ranged in age from seven to infancy, lived on the same farm as my grandmother, but because of winter weather and unplowed roads, we didn’t see much of them in the winter. The eldest had been in school for a year, but hadn’t done well and disliked it. He would be no comfort to me as a shy newcomer at school.      Fortunately, the teacher, whom I will call Mrs. J, a motherly woman with several grown children, had sympathy for t