Timothy Irving Frederick FindleyOCOOnt[1] (October 30, 1930 – June 20, 2002) was a Canadian novelist and playwright.[2] He was also informally known by the nickname Tiff or Tiffy, an acronym of his initials.[2]
Biography
Early life
One of three sons, Findley was born in Toronto, Ontario, to Allan Gilmour Findley, a stockbroker, and his wife, the former Margaret Maude Bull. His paternal grandfather was president of Massey-Harris, the farm-machinery company. He was raised in the upper class Rosedale district of the city,[2] attending boarding school at St. Andrew's College (although leaving during grade 10 for health reasons). He pursued a career in the arts, studying dance and acting, and had significant success as an actor before turning to writing. He was part of the original Stratford Festival company in the 1950s,[1] acting alongside Alec Guinness, and appeared in the first production of Thornton Wilder's The Matchmaker at the Edinburgh Festival.[1] He also played Peter Pupkin in Sunshine Sketches, the CBC Television adaptation of Stephen Leacock's Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town.
Career
Though Findley had declared his homosexuality as a teenager, he married actress/photographer Janet Reid in 1959. The union lasted only three months and was dissolved by divorce or annulment two years later.[2] He eventually became the domestic partner of writer Bill Whitehead, whom he met in 1962. Findley and Whitehead also collaborated on several documentary projects in the 1970s, including the television miniseries The National Dream and Dieppe 1942.[2] Whitehead and Findley won the ACTRA Award for Best Writing in a Television Documentary at the 4th ACTRA Awards in 1975 for The National Dream.[3]
Through Wilder, Findley became a close friend of actress Ruth Gordon, whose work as a screenwriter and playwright inspired Findley to consider writing as well.[2] After Findley published his first short story in the Tamarack Review, Gordon encouraged him to pursue writing more actively, and he eventually left acting in the 1960s.[2]
Findley's first two novels, The Last of the Crazy People (1967) and The Butterfly Plague (1969), were originally published in Britain and the United States after having been rejected by Canadian publishers.[2] Findley's third novel, The Wars, was published to great acclaim in 1977 and went on to win the Governor General's Award for English-language fiction.[2] Director Robin Phillips subsequently adapted the novel into the 1983 theatrical film The Wars.[2]
His writing was typical of the Southern Ontario Gothic style – Findley, in fact, first invented its name[4] — and was heavily influenced by Jungian psychology. Mental illness, gender and sexuality were frequent recurring themes in his work. Many of his novels centred on a protagonist who was struggling to find the moral and ethical and rational course of action in a situation that had spun wildly out of control. His characters often carried dark personal secrets, and were often conflicted – sometimes to the point of psychosis — by these burdens.
He publicly mentioned his homosexuality, passingly and perhaps for the first time, on a broadcast of the programme The Shulman File in the 1970s, taking host Morton Shulman completely by surprise.
Findley and Whitehead resided at Stone Orchard, a farm near Cannington, Ontario, and in the south of France.[2] In 1996, Findley was honoured by the French government, who declared him a Chevalier de l'Ordre des arts et des lettres.[2]
In the final years of Findley's life, declining health led him to move his Canadian residence to Stratford, Ontario, and Stone Orchard was purchased by Canadian dancer Rex Harrington.[5]
Findley died on June 20, 2002, in Brignoles, France, not far from his house in Cotignac.[1]Tiff: A Life of Timothy Findley, a biography by Sherrill Grace, was published in 2020.[6]
"When we have stopped killing animals as though they were so much refuse, we will stop killing one another. But the highways show our indifference to death, so long as it is someone else's. It is an attitude of the human mind I do not grasp. I have no point of connection with it. People drive in such a way that you think they do not believe in death. Their own lives are their business, but my life is not their business. I cannot refrain from terrific anger when I am threatened so casually by strangers on a public road." – from 1965 journal, at p. 16 of Journeyman: Travels of a Writer.[8]
"A myth is not a lie, as such, but only the truth in size twelve shoes. Its gestures are wider—its voice is projected farther—its face has bolder features than reality would dare contrive." – from 1992 speech, reproduced at p. 75 of Journeyman: Travels of a Writer.[8]
