“People were like that, though. Basically good until they thought they could get away with shit without being caught.”
A one-sentence summary for Son of a Trickster could go something like this: slacker boy spends his days getting drunk, high, and/or puking.
“The world is hard, his mom liked to say. You have to be harder.”
Having loved Eden Robinson’s Monkey Beach (one of the most memorable coming of ages that i’ve read in the past few years) I was expecting Son of a Trickster to be just as good. In this novel, Robinson once again showcases her ear for language, and the dialogues and conversations peppered throughout the narrative certainly rang true to life (in spite of how bizarre things get towards the end). The dialogues have this very naturalistic quality that I really enjoyed. The story however wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the one from Monkey Beach. While Monkey Beach wasn’t necessarily plot-driven, its characters and setting were incredibly compelling. Son of a Trickster instead doesn’t quite deliver on those fronts. Our protagonist, Jared, is a Native teen who doesn’t seem all that engaged with the world. He bakes weed cookies, gets high or drunk, has bad trips, and gets into scraps with the local douchebags. His deadbeat dad is largely absent from his life, his mother has some serious anger issues & is wasted a lot of the time.
The kind of scenarios Jared finds himself in would not be out of place in an episode of Shameless. Except that here the humor takes the backseat. There are some genuinely funny scenes and lines, but for the most part reading time and again about these dysfunctional characters getting drunk, high, puking, farting, being horny, enabling one another…it wasn’t all that fun. The narrative retains this fuzzy quality that makes it difficult to wholly grasp wtf is going on most of the time. Jared has a few odd encounters or experiences that he chalks up to being ‘off his head’ but as we read on we will begin to suspect that that may not be the case after all. But, by the end, most, if not all, of the odd things that occur earlier on in Jared’s story are given zero explanations.
There were also a lot of scenes and dynamics that left me feeling kind of icky. This was likely intentional but I, for one, could have done without it.
Jared’s high school ‘friends’ were grating, and some of the teenage jargon seemed a bit too self-conscious. I appreciated how messy Robinson’s characters are, there truly are not ‘good’ or ‘bad’ guys here. The ‘supernatural’ element only comes in towards the end of the novel and by then I was a wee bit bored by the random vignettes that seem to comprise the majority of this narrative. Still, I found the issues Robinson touches upon during the course of the novel to be thought-provoking (abuse, generational trauma, neglect, addiction, the horrific realities and impact of residential schools).
While I’m not sure whether I will be reading the sequel to this, I am still keen to read more by Robinson (hopefully not all of her work has this much puke in it).
my rating: ★★★☆☆
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“Names have power. This is the fundamental principle of magic everywhere. Call out the name of a supernatural being, and you will have its instant and undivided attention in the same way that your lost toddler will have yours the second it calls your name.”
First published in 2000 Monkey Beach is a deeply evocative and multilayered coming of age. Monkey Beach transports its readers to Northwest British Columbia, to Kitamaat, home to the Haisla people. After her younger brother Jimmy goes missing during a fishing expedition, twenty-year-old Lisamarie Hill is overwhelmed by grief. As she makes her way to the place he was last seen, Lisa looks back to her childhood and teenage years. Lisa recollections ring incredibly true to life. The author captures the way children think and speak, celebrating moments of silliness and happiness that occur between siblings and childhood friends. While there are many moments of lightness in Lisa’s childhood, the author doesn’t shy away from portraying the many injustices and struggles experienced by indigenous people. Lisa’s relationships with her family members—in particular, her loving uncle Mick and her resilient Ma-ma-oo—are as powerful as they are moving.
As a child, Lisa is very much a ‘tomboy’. She doesn’t back down from a fight, has a bit of a temper, enjoys getting into scrapes that frequently land her into trouble. Her uncle is her biggest fan and their interactions are simply a joy to read. I also liked that although Lisa does exhibit some of those ‘Not Like Other Girls’ traits, the narrative ultimately subverts this, introducing us to multiple tough girls and by not dismissing those girls Lisa had a falling out with.
The author depicts the realities of growing up indigenous and female, emphasizing the importance of family ties, however knotty these may be, and Haisla beliefs and customs. The narrative also delves into magical realism territories as throughout her youth Lisa is visited by a strange if ominous figure. Lisa’s premonitions and her ability to see ghosts are a terrible weight as she is often unable to stop tragedies from unfolding.
This novel has easily some of the most realistic dialogues and interactions that I have ever come across in a book. The setting is as vividly rendered as the characters, and there are many stunning descriptions of the landscapes surrounding Lisa.
While I wouldn’t necessarily recommend this to lovers of plot or fast-moving narratives, Monkey Beach will definitely resonate with those readers who are looking for a nuanced family portrait. I truly appreciated that while the author manages to convey with crystal-clear clarity Lisa’s childhood, some things in her story retain a sense of ambiguity.
While the first half of this novel is brimming with more light-hearted moments, the latter half is heartbreaking and unexpectedly dark. Lisa’s voice and character arc were truly compelling and I found myself not wanting to reach the end (as that would mean saying goodbye to her).
I came across an interview in which Emily St. John Mandel says that Monkey Read is her favourite book to re-read, and I actually think that this novel would indeed appeal to fans of Mandel (the remote & atmospheric setting, the magical realism). Readers who enjoyed Hannah Tinti’s The Twelve Lives of Samuel Hawley should also consider giving Monkey Beach a shot as the two share a similar ‘feel’.
Monkey Beach was a truly absorbing read, one that I am already looking forward to reading again.
my rating: ★★★★☆
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