The British in Canada
By DESMOND E. HENN IT is unfortunately impossible to embark on a discussion on how the English-speaking Britishers (an offensive term presently in vogue, but one apparently devoid of derogatory overtones) transplanted to Canada since the war have reacted to their new environment and on the extent to which whatever hopes they originally cherished have been either fulfilled or disappointed, without first making a definitely invidious dis- tinction between the Working Classes and the Others—or, better still, between those who earn wages and those who receive salaries. For though in Canada the" dividing-line, is more an economic technicality than a social Iron Curtain fortified by differences in accent, education and dress, yet the divergent attitudes of mind brought over from the Old Country are preserved with such devoted tenacity as to impose a psychological dichotomy which cannot be ignored.
Consider, for example, the case of Mr. X, whom we will assume to be a carpenter, a welder, an electrician or the fortunate possessor of some other skill regarded with com- parable favour by modern civilisation. Finding the restrictions of post-war England little to his taste, he crossed the Atlantic in the hope of obtaining a larger share of life's amenities than he could reasonably aspire to at home.. The transfer com- pleted, he probably found little or no difficulty in securing a job at which he could earn between two and four times his previous wage; housing may have presented some initial difficulty, but a car, a washing-machine‘ and various other conveniences ejusdem generic were achieved in short order, together with the possibility that they would all eventually be paid ' for. The Missus—that shadowy cipher with her depressingly predictable tastes—was ecstatic. On the material plane neither of them had any grievances that in their former habitat would have been worthy of the name. Nevertheless, they- were, both unhappy. Whatever their natural talents for empire-building, the British are insufficiently adaptable to make good emigrants, and, though the political refugee may feel obliged to accept matters as he finds them, those whose exile is self-imposed consider themselves entitled, simply by virtue of having exercised an independent choice in the matter, to comment freely on any aspects of the country on which their presence has been thus generously, conferred which do not meet with their full approval. Canadians, not unnatu- rally, are inclined to resent these uninhibited expressions of opinion, the more so since they are acutely aware that the Dominion is still very much in its formative stages, a natior in posse rather than in esse. Moreover, immigrants as a specie; are no more popular in Canada than they are elsewhere. Taken together, these factors bring home to the X's a feeling of social isolation, a suspicion that they are really out of place and a presentiment that perhaps they may have made a Dread, ful Mistake. Stifled in summer and numb in winter, they reverently treasure fugitive copies of the Sunday Pictorial and contemplate the prospect of Home through spectacles tinted so deep a shade of rose as to become finally opaque. They save their pennies and at last, after anywhere from two to five years, establish furtive contact with a travel agency. The visit home is an unmitigated disaster. The primitive squalor of life in England comes as a nasty shock, and theil former friends, still car- and fridge-less and with only the exiguous shelter of a council house—lacking not only a furnace but even a basement to put it in—to ward off the elements, are objects of shuddering pity : wattle huts, they feel, coul hardly be worse. Their stay in England is cut short, and th X's, feverishly counting their blessings and uttering little cries of relief, scamper back to Canada. 4 The case of Y provides something of a contrast. Parent of the best type available, public school education and perhap a university degree (Arts, of course) have led but to a stocl broker's office or to one of the smaller publishers, to the marketing department of a, soap company or a tobacco firma or even to a precarious toehold on the slippery crags of Broad, casting House—the exact site of his occupational cul-de-sac il not important. Y examines his prospects, finds them unpleasin4 and decides to take ship for Canada (alone; Amanda and the Children will follow when Daddy has dug himself in). Arrived, he makes known his availability and awaits the rush. Instead there is an ugly silence. Mildly irritated at their lack of enterprise, he goes so far as to canvass likely employers. t After a succession of such interviews, it is suggested that he become a salesman. Recalling importunate Fuller Brush men, Y at first recoils in horror until it is explained to him that in Canada selling is not only an honourable and extremely lucrativ9 profession but is also the keystone of the country's economy, Still dubious, {he can just picture the raised eyebrows ill Gerrard's Cross when this news gets home) he decides to give ... it a whirl.
He rents a house, starts the new job and finds to his surprise that he is a success : his English customers display a welcome loyalty, while the others find his accent irresistible. Amanda arrives but declines to be impressed; ex hypothesi, she does not much care for living in the Colonies, and instead of a herd of loyal black retainers she finds the servant problem worse even than at home. Moreover she much prefers a twilit cabaret to even the shiniest washing-machine, and few places in the Dominion are madly gay—indeed, the Canadian Sunday is a fairly close approximation to the Living Death. Discoursing lightly on these topics, Amanda's social life grinds fairly, rapidly to a halt, and she is reduced to brooding over the half- timbered cottages depicted in the pages of Country Life. , Meanwhile Y himself is becoming restive. Though his earnings are more than satisfactory, his social life is less so. He finds the Canadian preoccupation with money rather common and the mentality of his associates so relentlessly provincial that he is at last driven to joining the small cricket club organised by the local equivalent of Sir C. Aubrey Smith. Here he can compare notes with fellow exiles, each reinforcing the others' determination not to go native and accept the mores of a people so manifestly uncivilised. He is further troubled by the problem of what to do about the Children; both he and Amanda are firmly resolved that on no account must they be allowed to grow up bearing any resemblance to the impertinent, ill-mannered, undisciplined, gum-chewing, blue-jeaned offspring of their neighbours. Little Susan may have to take her chances in the local sch6ol (and even Canadians admit that their educational system varies front indifferent to disgraceful), but there can be no question about Michael going to a decent school in England. The situation deteriorates. Neither parent feels the slightest inclination to follow the freely proffered advice about " becoming Good Canadians." Both suddenly yearn—though they seldom found time in England—to attend the theatre and the ballet; and the Canadians, though affable, they find restless, uncultivated and preoccupied with Business. In turn, their own natural arrogance is mistaken for unnatural arrogance and they are regarded as being exaggeratedly patronising and insufficiently gregarious. In the end, having accumulated what would now in England be regarded as a small fortune, the chances are that the Y's will return home for good.
These are two case-histories at opposite poles, both in some respects characteristic, in others misleading to the extent that individuals are seldom wholly typical of anyone but themselves. The final balance would certainly be in Canada's favour. Pro- bably eighty-five per cent. of British immigrants do not seriously consider retracing their steps, and are as well adjusted to Canadian life at the end of five years as they are ever likely to be anywhere. " I wouldn't mind going home for a visit, but I'd never go back there to live," is the almost invariable feeling about the Old Country.
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