A few weeks ago, I mentioned how much Naomi’s Atlantic Canada reading has impacted the books in my stacks. (Check out her project here, along with pages dedicated to the Halifax Explosion and regional literary awards on Consumed by Ink.) When I reach for another book set in Toronto (a city I love, a city I now call home), I’m missing an opportunity to learn about another place I could also love. Thinking about what we do not choose can be more revealing than thinking about what we choose. My first post in this series appears here, and the next will appear on December 11. Meanwhile, here are three more Atlantic Canadian reads:
Séan McCann and Andrea Aragon’s One Good Reason: A Memoir of Addiction and Recovery, Music and Love (2020). Mostly a set of husband-and-wife remembrances in prose, there are court transcripts, bits of Atlantic outport family lore, newspaper articles, letters, tweets and song lyrics (McCann was a member of Great Big Sea) to expand the story. “I may have been singing in the choir, but I was definitely no altar boy,” McCann writes. Intergenerational trauma, alcoholism, strained partnerships (romantic and artistic), parenting, the “never-ending party” of musicianship, and abuse within the context of Catholicism: it’s a lot. And a lot that you might feel you’ve heard before. Even so, this memoir moved me to tears twice (if you’ve read it, I’ll say when) and had me making playlists. Thanks to Nimbus for encouraging me to read this.
L. Jane McMillan’s Truth and Conviction: Donald Marshall Jr. and the Mi’kmaw Quest for Justice (2018). McMillan first saw a documentary about this story of wrongful conviction and imprisonment in 1991, when she left Ontario for Halifax, to study marine biology.
A rebroadcast inspired by the death of Donald Marshall Sr, it was a timely discovery for her, because three weeks later, she would meet Donald Marshall Jr, at the Misty Moon, where Jeff Healey was playing.
It had been ten years since the Marshall Inquiry exposed the errors and systemic racism which resulted in his wrongful conviction.
They fell in love, she changed her major to anthropology, and in 1993, they were charged with fishing without a license (which denied the fishing and hunting rights protected for the Mi’kmaq [sic] in the Peace and Friendship Treaties of 1760-1).
“I came to realize that the rage-infused racism—the rawness of discrimination—was far more widespread than I had ever imagined. It was ugly. It was violent. It was inhumane.”
This book is an act of reconciliation, a “process of healing relationships that requires public truth sharing, apology, and commemoration that acknowledge and redress past harms.”
This isn’t for the casual reader (although the endnotes and photographs make the narrative more accessible) but it’s an essential read for anyone concerned with the impact of colonialism on indigenous peoples and the legacy of genocide which endures.
And given the recent conflict in the headlines this autumn, this book is ever-more egregiously important.
Afraid of the Dark (2018) is spoken-word poet Guyleigh Johnson’s second book.
Her Afterword talks about creating change and this collection is her philosophy in action: “If we want more black books, let’s write black books. If we want more sacred spaces to learn, heal, and share, let’s create before we complain.”
There are also short stories here, revolving around Kahlua, a composite character inspired by the author’s and others’ personal experiences, struggles and triumphs echoed in poems like “Living while Black”, “Take a Knee”, “Philando Castile” and “Cops and Robbers”.
“I know you won’t ever feel my pain
But why can’t you at least try and understand.”
Her tone is earnest and pleading, stalwart and declarative: she is putting her words to work. There is a lot of rage and sorrow here, but her determination and compassion outweigh everything.
Why haven’t I read these ones yet?! They all sound wonderful! But it’s also nice to think that you’re covering some of the books I’m not. 🙂
The Donald Marshall Jr. story is so tragic. (I had no idea that he and the author were a couple.)
I just put Guyleigh Johnson’s first book on hold – thanks for the nudge!
Hahah. Well, your projects inspire me either way. I like knowing that my reading friends are getting to the books that I’m not getting to yet, too. It’s reassuring somehow! And hopefully I can keep up the habit of pitching reviews for books from across the country, not always those set closer-to-home.
Wow that second book couldn’t be more timely! I’ve heard of the first one and it does sound interesting too. Atlantic Canada seems to be ripe with storytellers, we are so lucky to have them as part of our glorious country 🙂
I suppose this has been an ongoing concern, but it really does seem like it’s a book that’s walked straight out of the newspaper headlines these days. It’s great to have so many small, independent publishers working hard to get so many different kinds of stories out there for readers. 🙂
That’s a stunning trio of books. I get the impression that you’d need to be Canadian to ‘get’ them, especially the poetry. A similar Australian book might reference ‘Doomadgee’ for instance which, for us, immediately brings to mind the death of an Indigenous man on Palm Is. Qld, who died of shocking injuries when he “fell over” while in the custody of a police man who was of course acquitted (no Qld policeman has ever been convicted of the murder of a Black person).
I am currently reading, and should review, an essay on regionalism in Aust.Lit. It’s sometimes difficult to discern and I get the impression the divisions in Canada – Atlantic, Toronto, Pacific, inland plains, Arctic (or whatever they are called) are much greater. In fact you and Naomi rarely seem to stray from Toronto and Atlantic – that leaves an awful lot of empty country. (Please feel free to point out all my errors!)
Hah, nothing to point out there, really. There are more divisions than one would guess. Maybe that’s more often true than one would think? I used to think that Australia was more homogeneous, but through your reading (and S’s and L’s and B’s) I’ve learned that’s not true. And it takes a concerted effort to read beyond one’s usual habits. There is a surprising number of independent publishers in Atlantic Canada so I can see why Naomi reads so many of their books. And there are so many writers who choose to live in/around and write about Toronto because there are so many publishing houses here that I could probably spend all my time reading “here” too. Given your familiarity with indigenous writers and concerns closer to your home, I think you’d be surprised how easily you’d “get” the issues about indigenous rights and sovereignty in the Marshall story; but I’m sure there are other indigenous stories that you’d choose to read first, with more regional relevance for you.