Through Black Spruce

Although I'd feared I'd hate it due to rumours of snowmobiles and trapping figuring in the novel--the former especially being things I consider destructive, evil things--you can't fault a novelist for writing about what he knows, about a unique world that really exists. In fact, this might be the ultimate modern Canadian novel. It's not as gem-perfect as his preceding novel, Three Day Road, which is flawless whereas Spruce contains a couple of slight missteps (too small to recall), but Through Black Spruce is a cleverly constructed tale of smalltown winter life and what can go wrong, enmities festering, even in a seemingly peaceful backwater. Unexpected when I cracked the cover were the appearances of Toronto, Montreal and New York, in show more addition to the 'characters' of Moosonee and Moose Factory. Annie and Painted Tongue (aka Gordon) are two of the most believably created characters. A real achievement. Ever a good read! show less

Having read Joseph Boyden’s amazing Three Day Road, I was more than eager to read his second novel Through Black Spruce. Road was set during The Great War, a time period I particularly enjoy reading about. And, of course, the ending left every reader wondering what had become of Xavier Bird.
I was disappointed when I opened Spruce, as it is set in the present day and so seemed completely unrelated to Xavier. Nonetheless, Boyden pulled me in with his skillful prose that paints pictures in just a sentence. The first chapter ends with Will Bird talking about his youth: “I was young still, young enough to believe you can put out your gill nets and pull in options like fish.” I was completely hooked like one of those fish.
The story is show more told in alternating chapters by Will Bird, a Northern bush pilot (and, we find out, a son of Xavier’s second marriage) and his niece Annie Bird. Will is lying in a coma ( we are not at first told why) and Annie has come back home at the request of her mother to visit him. Annie’s friend Eva, a nurse at the hospital, suggests that Annie talk to Will in the hopes that he might respond to her voice & awaken.
At first, the two stores being told in flashback – Will’s of his life in the North, and Annie’s, of her recent, prolonged travels to Toronto & New York in an attempt to find her sister Suzanne, who has lost contact with her family after achieving super-model status – appear to have nothing in common. Each of the characters speaks without reference to what the other has just finished saying.
Will’s story includes Marius Netmaker, the “kingpin” of local drug dealers and a family enemy. Marius is the grandson of Elijah Whiskeyjack, boyhood companion and best friend of Will’s father Xavier. Annie’s story includes her attempt to make a life for herself after returning from the city.
But slowly, the threads of the stories come together & we see the fabric of their lives – Will’s, Annie’s, Suzanne’s, and the girls’ mother Lisette. Just as the movement of a butterfly’s wings sets in motion untold wonders, so Suzanne’s leaving the North sets a knotted pattern for all of the lives around her.
Boyden’s writing has been often & highly praised - and rightly so. I may not be able to find a superlative that has not already been used.
It’s deft & nimble, it captures images & sets them precisely down in a few words, and it finds the cadence of the Northern people about whom he writes. Annie’s “Ever tipsy, me” after having too much wine typifies the softness & frugality of his spoken language passages. I was as delighted as Violet at this phrase – but for much different reasons.
If you’ve read Three Day Road, you MUST read this. If you haven’t, then get a copy & read it – and then read this. I rate it a secure five stars.
P.S. Readers can only hope that rumors are true that Boyden is writing more in this series. My personal wish is that he will fill in the time between Xavier’s return from France & his death. What do you think? show less

After reading Canadian author Joseph Boyden’s Three Day Road last year, it was apparent that I had stumbled upon an extraordinary, new-to-me author. That first book told the story of Xavier Bird and his life-long friend Elijah Whiskeyjack, as they struggled to survive WWI together. Through Black Spruce, winner of Canada’s 2008 Giller Prize, takes place decades later and tells the story of Xavier’s son, Will Bird, legendary Cree bush pilot. Will is lying comatose in a hospital. His granddaughter Annie sits by his side and the narrative is presented as alternating chapters, Will telling his story to Annie and Annie relating hers to her grandfather. Boyden chose joint narratives for his previous book too and this effective narration show more device made it possible for him to leave each chapter with somewhat of a cliffhanger that the reader has to wait for as he reads the other storyteller’s tale. Needless to say, this technique, coupled with brilliant writing made the book impossible to put down.

Will and Annie’s stories are entirely different yet they share some common themes: growing up in virtual poverty and often being very hungry, the drug addiction and alcoholism prevalent on the “rez,” the desperate winter weather conditions common to Canada’s Arctic region where the stories take place and the loneliness and depression that is common, the danger of unsavory characters that plague any generation, and the importance of the love of friends and family. Will describes their hometown in this way:

“Moosonee. End of the road. End of the tracks. I can sense it just beyond the trees, nieces. It’s not so far away through the heavy snow. That place, it can be a sad, greedy town. You fall into your group of friends, and that’s that. Friends for life, minus the times you are enemies. Not too many people around here to choose from for friends, or for enemies. So choose right. In this place, your people will die for you. Unless they’re mad at you. If you are on the outs with a friend, all bets are off. You don’t exist. I’m down to my last couple of friends and have been for years. Maybe it’s like anywhere, but we’re some vengeful bunch. I blame it on the Cree being a clan-based people. Each clan has its own interests in mind. And whenever you have your own best interests in mind, someone gets left out and angry.” (Page 11)

Someone is angry at Will and someone is angry at Annie and that is what keeps the narrative moving. The way in which each of their stories is resolved is what keeps you on the edge of your seat. I’m hoping that Boyden is making a trilogy out of this. The silent Gordon and could easily go on to have a book of their own. I wonder what Mr. Boyden is writing right now. Very highly recommended. show less

Through black spruce by Joseph Boyden is a novel of love and loss and persistence set primarily in Ontario at the southern end of the James Bay.

Though about half the narration takes place northern Ontario in their Cree community, and half in New York City, the taiga forest is obviously a well-loved home for both narrators. But this is not a novel full of action.

What hooked me was the tone of the narrators, Will & Annie, reflective and measured, always reaching out to the other. The sentences are short, terse really, but clear and descriptive. Yet the picture is tantalizingly out of focus, and it takes quite awhile to put the pieces together, and even then there are things unfinished, unsaid, unresolved.

The first chapter is clearly a man show more talking to his nieces, obviously in trouble and talking to help keep himself moving. But what kind of trouble isn’t clear. In trouble with alcohol? When the first paragraph of a novel is a description of what to blend with rye whiskey, you know alcohol plays an important role in the story. Alcohol plays a role through rest of the chapter, a description of Will’s first plane crash onto a partially frozen creek lined with black spruce, but not the only one. The other thing that plays a significant role in the story are his family and friends, particularly his nieces; the final paragraph of the chapter makes clear that getting back to them is keeping the narrator going:

"The snow’s deep here, nieces. I’m tired, but I have to keep walking. I’m so tired, but I’ve got to get up or I’ll freeze to death. Talking to you, it keeps me warm."

The second chapter introduces niece Annie, who lets us know her uncle is in the hospital, in intensive care and unconscious. Why isn’t clear until we’re a quite a way into the story. Annie has been away for a long time, out of communication with her uncle (and her mother). We learn eventually that she started out searching for her missing sister, and followed her trail to the glamorous life of a model, locating her sister’s “friends” and living the high in New York City, until Annie’s life there falls apart.

Her friend Eva, a nurse at the hospital, encourages Annie to talk to her uncle. Her first attempt is awkward, and it’s clear she feels guilty, somehow responsible for his ending up here (It took me awhile after I finished the book to figure out why.) But Annie and Will have a bond because, as Annie says, speaking of her sister, “I bet you believe she’s still alive . . . Nobody else around here does but you and me, I bet.” The other bond they have is they both love living in the bush, hunting and trapping.

The remainder of the book alternates back and forth between Will’s voice and Annie’s, and we are left to attempt to piece together the story of what happened to Suzanne and to Will. What happened to Suzanne? Is it possible that she will come back? And what about Will? What happened to him? Clearly he and his niece both desire his return to the land of the living. Will he make it?

My public library does not have any of Boyden's other books, unfortunately, but I hope to read more of his writing.

This novel won the Giller Prize in 2008. show less

This seems to be a place-marker kind of book: something to hold in place between [b:Three Day Road|823411|Three Day Road|Joseph Boyden|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1327905456s/823411.jpg|809209] and [b:The Orenda|17661831|The Orenda|Joseph Boyden|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1363710334s/17661831.jpg|24652514]. Like all place-markers, it stands as a static symbol of waiting until one can pick up the story again -- and indeed, there is a lot of waiting, to no purpose in this novel.

While Three Day Road was a heartrending journey of finding one's way home and The Orenda was an equally emotional journey back in time, this seems like a long walk to nowhere.

It's isn't as if it's a bad book; it's just not a very good one, given show more Boyden's ability to shine like the Northern Star, when he wants to; when he puts his heart into it.

We are given two diverging, yet intertwining storylines: an uncle who is in a coma in a hospital bed recounts, in his mind, the story of his troubled life to his niece; the niece, who is equally troubled, talks to the comatose uncle, and through this therapeutic talk, finds herself again.

The entire novel, in fact, is riddled with voiceless people: Will cannot speak because he's in a coma; the only real conversations that Annie has is with her comatose uncle Will, which can be said to be no conversation at all; Gordon, Annie's love interest and protector, is mute and communicates only with a pen and a pad of paper; Suzanne, Annie's sister, is missing and so she only speaks through Annie's memories of her. It's a wonderful metaphor for the infection that ails the indigenous people: never having a say in their own destinies; unfortunately, Boyden fails to tease this out in a satisfying way. Everyone is voiceless, and then everybody gets back his/her voice, abracadabra and presto! Huh?!

The novel unravels in the usual tug-of-war between Canadian indigenous virtues and the (painted) American Woman of profanity: Annie loses herself in the tawdry and competitive world of high fashion models of NYC who are drowning their lives with drugs, booze and sex. Oh so predictable, and oh so cheap. While Boyden could have made much of this scene by exploring it with real sentiment, it is a surprise to meet only caricatures. Annie is saved, (and saves herself and Gordon), when she returns to her native roots in Northern Ontario, on the shores of James Bay. A little too much of a cliché, because it is done too smoothly. This placidity, in the face of great harm, is all so improbable that it detracts from what could have been an extraordinary journey of redemption.

It may sound trite and reductive -- but that's it; that's the story in a nutshell, and on one level is not much more profound than this.

What saves the novel from complete failure is that Boyden injects Will's character with his signature Boyden incisiveness. While we can dismiss Annie's journey out of hand, we are hard-pressed to do so with Will, for we connect with him immediately, and viscerally. He has a real story to tell, not a cranked out re-run from the Oprah syndicate.

Old men speak in riddles, nieces, but if you listen carefully, they might have something important to tell you.

I look forward to listening, again, when Boyden returns to his authentic voice. show less

Life on a Cree reservation in Moosonee, in the arctic lowlands of northern Ontario. Uncle Will, son of Xavier, is in a coma, hospitalized, while his nieces, Annie and Suzanne Bird are on his mind. His mind is telling the story of his life, of his nieces childhood, and of his worries for them. Suzanne is missing. Annie spends time at her uncle's bedside, willing him back to consciousness, and also tries to find her sister. The stories of the girls and their uncle, the past and present, are interwoven.

A generation who remembers the old ways, or at least stories from their elders, trying to make a life proscribed by circumstance and government. The juxtaposition of life and time from old Canada to new; from Indian ways to town ways; from show more independence to dependence, on government, on drugs and on alcohol. The intermeshings and the collisions of all these things are the story of this book.

This author creates a stunning sense of place, from wintertime northern Ontario in its frozen beauty, to Toronto's seedier side; from a tiny, peaceful, trapping cabin near a frozen river to a model's penthouse strewn with discarded clothing and party remnants; from the run-down nature of a reservation town to campsites in the wild north.

I'm an early riser, me. … My favourite summer mornings were when the sun had begun to push through the black spruce ahead of me, pure thin threads of light heating the ground, the limbs of trees, the cold dissolving into mist. A new day. A better day for me. … A smoke or two and a cup of coffee. I'd shiver and watch the world brighten a bit at a time. … A part of life here I've been through more than fifty times.

Me, I liked this book very much. show less

Through Black Spruce by Joseph Boyden is a novel that explores indigenous culture, family ties and identity. I found this to to a powerful story that follows two distinct POVs. The elder voice is that of Will Bird, a retired bush pilot who lies in a coma as his mind is actively going over the events that led to his condition. The younger voice belongs to Annie, Will’s niece who visits with her uncle and tells him of her journey of the past few months as she followed her missing sister’s trail to Toronto, Montreal and New York City before returning home to their small community of Moosonee near the shores of James Bay.

While the story takes us through heartbreak, mysterious disappearances, and violent confrontations what jumped out at show more me was the strong bond of kinship that these two characters shared. While not directly addressed, as the story advances, the plight of the indigenous people with drugs, alcohol and the death of their traditional way of life is made very clear.

Although there has been some controversy surrounding this author, I chose to simply concentrate on the story and I found it to be powerful, original and unforgettable. My only concern was that the ending seemed rather contrived but overall this was a very rewarding read. show less