In a fair country?
Cormac Rea
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Saul: "I'm not making an academic argument - I'm making a human argument"
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Esteemed Canadian intellectual John Ralston Saul opens Writer's Fest with a bang
Have you ever asked yourself who you are? Where do you come from? What does that red and white flag stitched to your backpack really mean? Am I Canadian? Are you? Aside from awkward Molson beer commercials expounding on the merits of "eh" in conversation, pushing hockey and beer as the answer to all ills, these questions are rarely asked in public forums. It's as though their very existence is uncomfortable and stale - studiously avoided like the Radical Marijuana Party option on an electoral ballot. There is something tempting, and yet totally unsavoury, about indulging the point: what is a Canadian? Canada's national symbols and mottos, though treasured, are often hackneyed and lack any real application or force in the identity debate. What the hell can you do with a beaver? Can I build character with maple syrup? This past electoral season presented an excellent example of division: what do we have in common? What do we stand for? Who are we? Each political party has a different interpretation and so do most Canadians.
In his recent book, A Fair Country, John Ralston Saul makes a persuasive argument as to how and why Canadian remains a conundrum. En masse, he maintains, we were tricked, deceived and hoodwinked by a carefully contrived rewrite of this country's history.
"What I'm saying is that a large part of the inspiration for this country's civilization has these aboriginal roots. And that re-centres, it completely changes, the way of thinking of what we're doing, whether you've met
someone who is first nations or not," explains Saul, reached over the telephone at his Toronto office. "The big missing conversation in Canada is the one between Aboriginals and new Canadians. The ones in between keep getting in the way." These "ones in between," according to Saul, are the colonialist settlers who began to dominate in the late 19th century, whose interpretation of Canadian history was entirely empire serving, and whose rewrite of history continues to dominate Canadian classrooms and suitably confuse the rest of us, to this day. It is the reason, he reveals, for a certain Canadian paralysis and inaction on the world stage and an identity disconnect at home.
"Our capacity to explain what we're doing to ourselves, and for that matter the rest of the world, is limited by our inability to explain where it came from," adds Saul.
"If you go back to the 16th, 17th, 18th centuries, what you find here is 2 million people living in a very interesting society based on non-monolithic principles," explains Saul.
"These principles were based on the idea that minorities can live together; based on the idea that they can figure out ways to keep talking to each other so that if violence happens it is as little as possible; that you don't actually resolve problems of complexity but continue to live in a very complicated situation and that complexity is not bad."
Sound like the country you live in? It should. Canada still houses a huge complexity: one of the most diverse populations on the face of the earth lives here. Put quite simply, "multi-cultural" and "peaceful" are two major touchstones in the bedrock of Canadian civilization.
But Saul's most compelling arguments have to do with how these ideas are continually challenged by mention of "ethnic enclaves" and pan-Americanism; how their definition was muddied early on in our history by European empire builders; how ideas of well-being and fairness collided, and continue to butt heads, with such tenets as order and colonialism.
"The way in which we live together in Canada, is not the way we would live together in Ireland, Italy, Holland etc...," explains Saul. "I'm not making an academic argument - I'm making a human argument. How is that we've managed to live together in this way and not in the European or U.S way? How is it that we've figured out that if we just keep talking and don't insist on clarifying everything that things won't fall apart and we won't resort to violence - how did we figure that out, where did that come from?"
Saul's questions are ultimately rhetorical. A Fair Country purports to "tell truths about Canada" and Saul's careful study of history is based on one very important interpretation: early Canadian settlers learned these valuable secrets of civilization and survival from Aboriginals and Canada would benefit hugely from recognizing this fundamentally.
In an excerpt from his book, Saul points directly at the source.
We are a people of Aboriginal inspiration organized around a concept of peace, fairness and good government. That is what lies at the heart of our story; at the heart of Canadian mythology, whether Francophone or Anglophone. If we can embrace a language that expresses that story, we will feel a great release. We will discover a remarkable power to act and to do so in such a way that we will feel we are true to ourselves.
Regardless of your personal opinion, Saul's In Fair Country offers a riveting read based on a very cogent argument. His talk at the Ottawa International Writer's Festival should be mandatory attendance for any Canadian looking to gain a better understanding of where they come from, of what they are - beyond the hockey stick and body politic.
John Ralston Saul
@ Ottawa International Writer's Festival
Sunday Oct 19
National Library & Archives
(392 Wellington)
Ticket prices and info:
www.writersfestival.org" target="_blank">www.writersfestival.org
XXXA Man Ascending
Toronto's Justin Rutledge completes the Writer's Fest circle
The music of rhythm and meter is present in all human languages. At times, a slip of the tongue can be mother for invention, an unintentional chord, while a popped guitar string can hit like an exclamation point. For Toronto's Justin Rutledge, a gig at Ottawa's International Writer's Festival is a chance to unite the two bedfellows - minus the popped strings.
"I try to involve words, which I love, and music, which I love, in the same moment," explains Rutledge via telephone. "The difference between music and words is that the melody brings it to life."
Rutledge's songwriting abilities have gathered praise from critic's quarters near and far; his 2005 debut on Six Shooter Records brought U.K acclaim, while 2006's The Devil on a Bench in Stanley Park hooked "Songwriter of the Year" honours from Toronto's NOW magazine.
His latest album, A Man Descending (2007), pivots successfully off an inspired quote from Canadian author Guy Vanderheaghe:
A man descending is propelled by inertia; the only initiative left him is whether or not he decides to enjoy the passing scene.
"I guess you'd call that a paradox. So I just followed that idea all the way through [the album]. The key is really the second part of that excerpt. I guess what I was doing with those songs was really enjoying the passing scene," reveals Rutledge, chuckling.
"What I prefer to do, rather than telling a story, is act as a lens or photographer and capture ideas about a certain thing," he explains. "That's really my technique to avoid just regurgitating what that character is doing. What I'm trying to do right now is just imagine what would happen after the chapter, what this character did before he opened the door in the morning."
Justin Rutledge
w/ Kyrie Kristmanson, Glenn Nuotio
@ Ottawa International Writer's Festival
Monday Oct 27, 8:30 p.m.
Tickets & Info:
www.writersfestival.org" target="_blank">www.writersfestival.org
