Book Review: Indian Horse by Richard Wagamese

Update:  Wagamese's Indian Horse--the movie--has been reviewed on Rotten Tomatoes. Thanks to Netflix, I recently (November 2021) had a chance to watch this movie and it's almost as good as the book. 

My one-sentence review:  Indian Horse by Richard Wagamese is like a slap shot--a quick and powerful read. (scroll down for more...)

Blurb from the back cover:  Saul Indian Horse is in trouble, and there seems to be only one way out. As he journeys back through his life as a northern Ojibway, from the horrors of residential school to his triumphs on the hockey rink, he must question everything he knows. In Indian Horse, author Richard Wagamese has crafted a wise and magical novel about love, family and the power of spirit.

Buy this book

I took notes as I read...

'Many hearts beating together make us stronger.' (p. 2)

I'm so glad I decided to read Indian Horse after The Orenda--they are very compatible books. 

Wagmese's matter of fact writing style is very easy to read and before I know it I'm on page 30. And I'm not full; I hunger for more.

The narrator speaks in a simple, straightforward manner but words like 'ministrations' are off-putting. They make you question your assumptions regarding the narrator's background. I read on... 

Saul:  'I read once that there are holes in the universe that swallow light, all bodies. St. Jerome's [Indian Residential School] took all the light from my world. Everything I knew vanished behind me with an audible swish, like the sound a moose makes disappearing into spruce.' (p. 43)

If you've ever wondered about the cruelty inflicted on students at residential schools read chapter twelve. It's hard to but read it. And while you read remind yourself that these are children they are physically and mentally abusing.

'When your innocence is stripped from you, when your people are denigrated, when the family you came from is denounced and your tribal ways and rituals are pronounced backward, primitive, savage, you come to see yourself as less than human. That is hell on earth, that sense of unworthiness. That's what they inflicted on us.' (p. 81)

Saul on Hockey:  'I can't explain how it came to me, but I could see not just the physical properties of the game and the action but  the intent. If a player could control a measure of space, he could control the game.' (p. 58)

It's very important for the reader to see what Saul had to give up (his life with his family) and to see what he had to endure (in the residential school) so that we can appreciate what hockey gave to him. It gave him a reason to spring out of bed each morning; it instilled in him a love for life. 

This book would make a wonderful movie. (And it turns out it did.)

Wagamese love for the game of hockey rings out page after page. And it's infectious--even for this decidedly non-sport-minded woman. 

I want everything to work out for Saul. I want him to live happily ever after with the Kelly's. But I know it's not to be. I know because I'm only half-way through the book and I know because of the way this book began. 

Wagamese skillfully uses foreshadowing on page 140.

This would be an excellent book for a reluctant reader--especially one that loves hockey.

Chapter 48 is so powerful and underlines a message I firmly embrace as true--to heal you must remember.

Chapter 49 reads like a hard slap across the face. How could  be so naive? Why didn't I know? Why didn't I see?

I couldn't stop reading, but I didn't want it to end. Thank you, Richard Wagamese.

Friday's guest post:  Interview with Shirley Hershey Showalter (memoirist)

Sharing my author journey...

Who Me Idle? (part 2) by Joel Harvey

(continued from an article posted on this blog on July 25th)

Joel Harvey with his granddaughters

During the Clayquot Sound anti-clearcut protest (summer 1993) I noticed thick mists of sympathy for First Nations wisping around, but these mists evaporated easily at talk about how those ancient forests could provide jobs for native loggers rather than corporate ones. So I helped to put together a First Nations / environmetalist conference at UVIC, and was kvetching over coffee to North Island Chief Francis about how much static I had to endure from government officials, consultants, and environmental activist folks, just for suggesting that First Nations views needed to be heard - from themselves. He commiserated quietly with "You suffer a lot that way?" Much much later, his centuries deep irony hit me.

At a circle meet for the South Island Treaty table, having been invited as a witness, in the initial round of intros I said I was not sure exactly why I was there. Chief Bill (well known then for his punchy "we should have killed you all" quip) grinned and gruffed - well why are you here? ( 'here' obviously taking in all of North America).

Later, a high point was hosting Nisg'a folks, especially Chief Joe Gosnell, for the grand treaty signing ceremony at the Legislature. On 2 Dec 1998 Chief Gosnell, in majestic red and black traditional regalia, made an all-Canadian greatest speech at the bar of the legislature, reminding BC how far we have come since 1887 when Premier William Smithe told aboriginals from northern BC their land-claims were meaningless: “When the white man first came among you, you were little better than wild beasts of the field”. Gosnell summarized the progress: "Under the treaty we will no longer be wards of the state, no longer beggars in our own lands."

It was an honour to watch his immense civility and negotiation skill, and then help nominate him for the Order of Canada, which he received about the time the redneck backlash (``One Law fer All`) in BC started. Out of these negotiations came one charming leaked comment about loss of "our" forest access from a Forest company exec: "I suppose there is no need for Natives to worry about tomorrow, the government will always look after them. They see it as today's lifestyle being better than yesterday's. Proof that white people owe them something."   The backlash was also expressed in the Campbell government's attempt to nullify the Nisga Treaty in court. That case was dismissed then. Campbell tried again with an absurd, expensive treaty referendum (2002) - which failed as well. 

While that treaty may be a model for others to come, a recent attempt to nullify it was initiated - and lost - by a group of Nisga citizens, unhappy in their own way about the whole thing. Can't life be hard, and unfair, sometimes?

The BC Treaty Process, too, has not been productive, running into constant roadblocks, more government 'studies', etc,etc. In 2013, there are just 3 done treaty deals out of over 50 First Nations in BC, many now opting to risk more court action rather than rely on the process.  Recently the Commissions' chief commissioner, Sophie Pierre, pondered  “If we can't do it, it's about time we faced the obvious – it isn't going to happen, so shut 'er down.”, though she is staying on - with hopefulness - for another term. Locally, the Hul'qumi'num (South Island) Treaty Group  process has been stalled for years. This group has taken a complaint against BC & Canada's insincere, obstructionist approach to an international tribunal  (Inter-American Commission of Human Rights). Now, whoever might have suggested such a thing?

And so, things keep on moving on, and from what I can see some have got much better over 20 years (in business, media, education,  attitudes, even activist collaboration). But while 'retired' in a tranquil rural island hideout, I know there's way longer to go, even when there are so many other places to shine our care. All us many real heroes and leaders,  allies, sympathizers, supporters, letter writers, well wishers in government and out, on reserve and off, and those just interested in artistic works, seeking authentic spirituality, collecting bits of lore, curios and dreamcatchers, or even cool native place names  - dear gentle hearts - can we just keep on pushing more in our own small ways?

Your journey may be like mine, you may not be fast but you are slow, learning very late about the nasty-shadowy-mindless easily enraged beasties that still snooze lightly in the culture out there. I probably should have paid that $10 to get the lowdown early in life. Ahead there remains serious deprogramming of 2 centuries of Imperial tinged religion, paternal land acquisitive legalism and repression, cartoon injun stereotyping ("they" are so spiritual, cute/exotic/wasted but noble - and almost extinct or assimilated).  Like, "we" are not yet out of "our" own swampy woods. So that 'we' may continue moving - being non idlers - and maybe challenge ourselves, not be dumb as rocks about this stuff, I offer suggestions from my own encounters:

·          "A Long and TerribleShadow" (1990), a relentless look at our real history, by former BC Supreme Court Justice Tom Berger (Swedish/All-Canadian).

·          "The Orenda" (2013) by Joseph Boyden (Anishinnabe/Scottish), a fictional history of early Canada, on personal impacts of devastating native wars and spiritual clashes (at the library).

·         "The InconvenientIndian" (2012) by Thomas King (Cherokee/Greek), of CBC's Dead Dog Cafe, for sparkles of wit and good dark storytelling (laughter along the trail of tears), a fun and crisp de-mything read  (at the bookstore and library).

·          "First Nations and theFuture of Canadian Citizenship" (2013, CBC.CA/Ideas, Search: Ideas Atleo), Massey Lecture by Shawn Atleo (Ahousat/National Chief AFN). Our Precious Lives and Founding Relationships, Past Disasters, Work Ahead. Could you need more Clarity?

·          "Peace, Power,  and Righteousness" (1999) by Dr. Taiaike Alfred (Mohawk), toward a truer moral calculus for our land, that even newcomers can follow. Showing a people's ancient deep and sure dignity, that newcomers can also aspire to.

·          "They Called MeNumber One: Secrets and Survival at an Indian Residential School " (2013) by Chief Bev Sellars (Xat'sull/BC), Unsparing stories of women in BC residential schools - genocide, eh? say no more. Preface by Chief Bill.

·          "This Ragged Place" (1998) by Terry Glavin (Cannuk/MayneEscapee), Essays on awesomely crazy BC, especially Native & Forest Issues, the Fisheries Fracas.

·          "First Nations?Second Thoughts?" (2002) by Dr. Tom Flanagan (Wildrose/Yankee), background philosophy and arguments for the Harper Government's nouveau assimilationist, market-on-the-cheap-solutions,  Alberta-Oil Rampant. Like? UnFriend??

·          Some links (including these books at Amazon) and references (& your comments?) on my (Clan Keith/Geek) own rough, evolving topical aggregator web site  (IdleWatch.MayneHome.Net).

My point: Who was Idle? Is Idle Now? Me? So Many others? You? How much is enough?

While we've yet to see the noonday brilliance of a Nelson Mandela's (Madiba) smile to guide our way on, this agelong struggle continues within us, and without us.  Peace.

Joel / jpharvey@shaw.ca

Dec 2013. Thanks to the writing group - Amber, Leanne, Catherine, Gail, David - for listening & helping to coax this peice out of me, unplanned as it was, unperfected as it may stay. I should add - thanks to Annette for organizing that initial IdleNoMore event , and to Bill for provoking my interest in writing a short note about it and giving a few gold stars for style. Then it grew.

(For more information regarding this Joel's article please visit his web site.)

Book Review The Orenda by Joseph Boyden

buy this book

Front cover blurb:  The Orenda opens with the kidnapping of Snow Falls, a spirited Iroquois girl with a special gift. Her captor, Bird, is an elder and one of the Huron Nation's great warriors and statesmen. Although it's been years since the murder of his family members, they're never far from his mind. In Snow Falls, Bird recognizes the ghost of his lost daughter; he sees that the girl possesses powerful magic, something useful to him and his people on the troubled road ahead. The Huron Nation has battled the Iroquois for as long as Bird can remember, but both tribes now face a new, more dangerous peril from afar.

Christophe does not see himself as a threat, however. A charismatic Jesuit missionary, he has found his calling amongst the Huron, devoting himself to learning and understanding their customs and language in order to lead them to Christ. As an emissary from distant lands, he brings much more, though, than his faith to the new world.

As these three souls dance one another through intricately woven acts of duplicity, small battles erupt into bigger wars, and a nation emerges from worlds in flux. Powerful and deeply moving, The Orenda traces a story of blood and hope, suspicion and trust, hatred and love. A saga nearly four hundred years old, it is at its roots timeless and eternal.

Tons of people have warned me that this book is very violent. (I don't know, I guess I look particularly fragile.) But I decided to disregard these warnings.
Why? 
Well... I'm a fan of Joseph Boyden. In fact Three Day Road got me through a bout of shingles. So you see, I owe him.
And also... The Orenda is a winner Canada Reads 2014 Selection
So you see, I had to read this book...

I took notes as I read...

Snow Falls:  'Wolves can't live on berries and twigs, after all, and their viciousness is what allows them to keep going, and will allow those who will one day follow to do the same....
It's a big decision, isn't it? I can hear your voice asking it, Father. Do I grow up to become a deer? Or do I grow up to become a wolf?' (p. 50)

I love the humour contained in this book. Clearly Christophe means 'live' instead of 'die' but his limited knowledge of the Wendat (Huron) language forces him to make this mistake. Yet he arrogantly believes that he has a gift for languages.

It overwhelms me, the cruelty that man can inflicted on man, because of desire.

The chapter titled I Saw You, Lord ends on such a sad note because we, of course, know that Bird is right. 

I like how Boyden recounts a scene through the eyes of more than one character. I thought such a treatment would seem redundant, but it doesn't--not at all.

The French send young priests to 'civilize' the dwellers of the harsh land. But Iroquois greet them with arrows and sink their canoes. Are we meant to rejoice--the land remains out of their clutches? 
Yet more and more of the Huron are listening to the priests. Will they turn from the old ways?
Of course, we know they will. It's only a matter of time. 
I wonder how different things would be if they hadn't? Would I be here? Would there be a country called Canada? Would our Prime Minister be Huron (Wendat)? What version of history would be taught to our children?

Gosling:  ' "Your wampum [Bible] says that man is the master and that all the animals are born to serve him...I say that humans are the only ones in this world that need everything within it... But there is nothing in this world that needs us for its survival. We aren't the masters of the earth. We're the servants." ' (p. 163)

Magic is alive in Gosling.

I think Joseph Boyden is using a balanced approach to recount the days of first contact. Instead of painting the priests as bad and the native warriors as good, he rises above such pat conclusions to fairly represent both.

'his face is like the sun rising' (p. 219)

The secret power of the priest and the secret power of Gosling--they spring from such a sacred place, defying reason. Are they truly that different?

I'm touched by the simplicity and love expressed on pages 380 and 381.

Is He Finds Villages (Aaron) symbolic of the natives who were so willing to embrace the white ways that they lost their own way?

The present tense is especially effective during the battle scene. It heightens my tension, making me feel like I'm right there. And I read on...

I'm very impressed by Boyden's ability to tell this story using three narrators. I, the reader, never get lost. And Boyden doesn't use the technique I would employ--labeling the chapters using the character's name. There's no need, I know the characters so well that I easily identify who is speaking.

Christophe's strength and his devotion to his faith can be clearly seen in the chapter titled The Stolen Fruit.

Inspired by this story I write...

Orenda

I walk with respect, thoughtfulness, and kindness 

on Turtle Island, my mother Earth

Orenda

Guest post Friday:  Who Me Idle? by Joel Harvey

Sharing my author journey...

Who Me Idle? (part 1) by Joel Harvey

photos by Leanne Dyck

Last January (2013) I joined a small Mayne Island IdleNoMore support gathering at the Welcoming Figure on Felix Jack road. We did a circle and talking-feather go-round.  At my turn, memories of my "previous-life" activism arose, and I told about a native rights lawyer I had admired.

But then, as now, I felt uneasy at one strand of the implied criticism - especially promoted in the media - suggesting past supporters of native rights had been "idle", or worse. Touching into this unease, I wondered at how apt my own small part had been:

·        Did I play at wannabe native, seeking earth-spirit roots I lacked?

·        Did I really care about long standing oppression of unknown others, or just enjoy indulging in a feisty, airy stance?

·        Did I work from a sense of enlightened world-saving noblesse oblige; sure my hat in the ring would make all the difference? 

Joel Harvey

I know I am in good company with such doubts. But to be an 'ally'', supporter, helper, neighbour, or friend across the long-time settler / oppressee line in this our 'glorious and free' Canada can still raise squirm-inducing, enshadowed questions. It helps me to recall, to squeeze some closure from my own little story, and might interest you, so I'm glad for your attention should you follow along here.

Way back, as an all-Canadian kid in a plush Montreal suburb, the state-imposed oppression of native folks ground on around me - without my awareness, or permission. All I knew about such things was from weekend cowboy movies with Roy Rogers messing round on fancy horses with Hollywood injuns. Once, a friend and I bike adventured way over the Jaques Cartier Bridge to the mysterious "Cogna-Waaga" reserve (Kahnawake Mohawk Territory). We were stopped at the entrance by a rough frowny guy who wanted $10 admission, or else. In five seconds we were back at the highway; peddling home, we wondered what the heck a Mafia guy was doing there.

When a young Pierre Trudeau was campaigning for MP, I recall his saying in some speech how the "Indian Problem" was vexing to him. He added something like "These people cannot expect to be treated different from every other conquered people - what would you have us do? (shrug)  Give the British Isles back to Druids"? Later, as Prime Minister, he softened, having improved his sharp federalist mind with some good reading, learning a bit of actual history, having had his perfect solution "White" paper harshly rejected by the native community, and having to honour the first of many legal decisions that insisted past governments' promises to native peoples were .. well .. still real promises.

As a young dad working in Victoria BC, my adventuring continued in July 1990: after a week's kayaking sun sparkled waves on wild West Coast Van. Island, past treed islets, rocky bays, salal-ed shores, our homeward group settled into a white sandy beach at the entrance to Clayquot Sound. Just as evening campfires smoked, and tents went up, the fishing fleet from Ahousat Village putted by. One little boat peeled off, right up to the beach; the guy yelled "you better get outta here by sunset or the warriors will be around!"

Needless to say, no one slept well that night, sitting upright at every rustle in the beach grass. But we stayed, believing the radioed RCMP assurance that below hiwater mark was public Crown land. Waking thankfully next morning, we paddled into Ahousat, wandered among depressing 3rd world shacks and junkyard landscaping, played with some kids and dogs, asked an adult about what`s up with the warrior thing. First, he said ``O that`s just old Ernie - he`s always like that. Most of the guys are at the Alberni games.`

Then he told us the other news young urban kayakers had missed: it was the 3rd day of the Oka crisis, and much of the country, especially Indian country, was really worked up, angry, scared.

During 1990-1991 the BC press was alive with stories and editorials about the ongoing Gitksan and Wet'suwet'en land claims case in BC Supreme Court (Delgamuukw v. British Columbia). It had gone on for 4 years, bringing in archeological experts plus ancient elders to court, to strengthen claims around occupancy, lineage and cultural usage. The judgment - later quashed - came as a rude shock. The headlines reported the claim dismissed ("at the pleasure of the Crown") as the Justice asserted the northern natives to be barely civilized, leading lives that had been and were "Nasty, Brutish & Short".

At the time I figured that was the name of his law firm, and wondered which one was him.

After this, I began to question - what the hey is going on in this land? I met some "church ladies" at a Victoria event, and learned about incredible support work for First Nations they were involved in. They had an understanding of 'not trespass against others' that they found to be 'lite' in too many Canadians. As part of this group, I learned much about fighting the good fight. And I learned respect for these, my own gracious elders. They knew in friendship so many active First Nations folks - and their kids - up and down the province. They had done effective advocacy, fund raising runs, providing places to stay and arranging public forums. Many evenings were spent in nearby cedar-smoked longhouses, as we were welcomed to watch decision making and storeytelling times.

At a meeting with the new Aboriginal Affairs Minister I listened - astounded -  as several of these ladies opened a grilling about the new (1993) BC Treaty Process with something like "I played bridge with your mom, and babysat you. Think your office's colonial decor is really appropriate to your new role?  So the courts are making you move: do you actually feel your novel process will do any good?"

Thru this group, I took part in interesting advocacy and support actions. At a Canada-wide meet of "allies"  in a big monastery north of Toronto, a polite 200 strong circle conversation about native rights progress was starting. Ignorant me - I had to ask one of the star guests if he knew of a certain renowned native rights activist: Lawyer Bruce. Chief Gary's explosive "Bruce ...!!!  that *&^%$"!!  ricocheted around the high-arched red-granite contemplative spaces.

Turns out lawyer Bruce had lost a lot of that (Anishinnabe) band's timber rights in a case using his foolproof legal approach. Namely: the Royal Proclamation of 1763 was a prime directive to all colonial authorities and subjects and their descendants who claimed to honour the Crown, and that without proper agreements, they were never, ever, to diddle with its meaning to suit their own land grab aspirations.

With Canadian Justice, what ever could go wrong?

(Part two of Joel Harvey's article will be published on this blog on

Friday, August 1st)

For more information regarding this article, please visit Joel's web site.