By Sasha Yurchenko
Beneficiary
by JoAnn McCaig
University of Calgary Press (2026)
Seren lived many lives. She was born into a picture-perfect family with matching sweaters and yearly personalized Christmas cards. She never fit in. On the break of 1970s, she escaped her pearls-around-neck life and rebelled through her teenage years and early twenties. Some think her life started when she married TJ and became a mother, though it might have been the end of her. Seren certainly felt more alive than ever after sudden inheritance brought her back to the life she once ran away from.
It is a story of a woman who is afraid of being defined. A mother, a divorcee, a rich girl… Seren never wants to live within constraints of one word. She seeks her life and freedom, avoiding yet falling victim to uncomfortable stereotypes that keep her safe. Seren is not a loveable character at first sight, but she becomes an old friend whose flaws you accept and cherish her honest charisma. Seren, as a teenager, is a seeker of an unknown fantasy; she rarely understands her own desires or actions of others. We see a more mature version of her later in life, although still clueless about the way people around her think and bitter about some tragic parts of her life. By the end of her life, Seren becomes a conscientious citizen with a stable moral compass. She is reflective of her life and her actions. She knows she isn’t perfect and she owns her flaws. “What she thought to herself was I don’t deserve this. But I accept it with gratitude” (214). After living a life of denying her privilege, she finally accepts it and sets out to help less fortunate, to make a difference in a meaningful way.
Beneficiary is a book for readers who take their time getting to know true nature of characters. JoAnn McCaig masterfully recreated Canadian 1970s to early 2010s depicting each decade as a distinct era for Seren. This book is packed with vivid detail; it replicates Seren’s emotional turmoil with great care that combines turns the novel into a beautiful recollection which often reads like a memoir. McCaig is not afraid of brutally honest sentences and sincere reckoning moments. The way she tells the story reflects the narrative in Seren’s head, highlighting the memories she considers of great importance to her character, while briefing through some significant parts, the ones she is doing her best to forget.
“A few days later, she woke up from yet another sweaty hallucinatory daytime dream and she knew exactly what was wrong with her: I miss my own pain. An ill-favoured thing, but my own” (88).
The author manages to create a palpable presence of a woman who is perceived so differently by every person in her life that a reader cannot help but wonder who she really is. Sometimes it remains a mystery to Seren herself. She makes mistakes, lots of them, which makes her character so compelling that it’s impossible to think of her less. Like all of us, she navigates this life with blind effort, and she is sincere about every turn.
Sasha Yurchenko is a Ukrainian-Canadian writer and a prose editor for a queer-led journal Ivy Literary. She is currently earning her B.A. in Creative Writing and Publishing in Sheridan College. New to Canada, she enjoys reading about unique cultural experiences, especially from marginalized communities. Her work can be found in Darkness Falls anthology and B222 Journal.