Kanata (55 page)
| Q: | As a young man, Michael experiences war in Europe and love in America before eventually returning to Alberta. Do you think it's important to see the world in order to fully understand and appreciate what we have in Canada? |
When I travelled to Europe as a student, years ago, I remember thinking it seemed so much more sophisticated. Nevertheless, after months of travel, it was a joy to return home. Canada has gotten much more sophisticated since then, without losing the essential force of its personality. Now it's a model for the coming century, a harbinger of the successful multicultural state.
| Q: | Many of the political figures depicted in the book, such as John A. Macdonald, Louis Riel, and Mackenzie King, have strong and complex personalities defined by what some may call serious character flaws. Why do you think such traits are so common in the political world? Do you think these leaders have earned their places in Canadian history because of or despite those flaws? |
I suspect that Louis Riel's bouts of mania helped propel him through the hostile political landscape. They were what launched him and what defeated him at Batoche ultimately. He needed those flaws, but they were his undoing. Macdonald once remarked that the people would rather have John A. drunk than George Brown sober. His flaws and his gifts were wrapped up so tightly that they became indistinguishable. His energy was heroic for all things: politics, alcohol, and life. King succeeded in spite of his flaws. He was insecure, overly attached to the mystical, and curiously isolated. But his natural instinct for compromise helped govern an ungovernable country. Arguably, it was also what kept him from being great, however.
| Q: | Kanata covers almost two hundred years in our history and touches upon many important people and events. Were there other events or figures you wanted to include but simply could not find the space for? If so, do you have any plans to explore them in the future? |
There were a lot of stories that I couldn't find space for. Some of them I wrote and then reluctantly cut. The stories themselves were fascinating, but they seemed to stray too far away from the central theme. I originally wrote a section dealing with the Dene Natives who worked in the uranium
mine at Great Bear Lake. They were shipping the uranium to the U.S. to be used in the first atomic bomb. A third of the Dene miners died of cancer, and Deline became known as the “Village of Widows.” It's a tragic story and historically rich, but I cut it, finally, because I felt there just wasn't room. It opened up too many doors; it needed a longer treatment.
| Q: | What were some of the practical challenges in creating a fictional interpretation of events that took place hundreds of years ago? Were you mindful of presenting a “truthful” fiction? |
The practical challenges aren't as great as one would think. There was a wealth of existing description, especially in Thompson's exhaustive records. The literary challenges are more of a problem. The question of what is “truthful fiction” lurks. There is no hard and fast rule.
Kanata
was presented as “historical fiction,” a term that means different things to different people. I wanted to have the book governed by central truths, but I took liberties with certain events, or collapsed events into a single scene. I used dialogue and descriptions from the historical record, but also manufactured my own. I tried to stay truthful to the spirit of the characters and to historyâan impossible task, ultimately. All historical fiction necessarily takes liberties. It does so in the service of the story.
| Q: | Which of the historical figures did you find most interesting to explore? Did any of them present a difficulty or a challenge in capturing their voices? |
I deliberately used characters who had left a written record of their own. Thompson's journals helped give him a voice. Bethune also wrote a great deal, and his voice and personality
shine through in his work. Mackenzie King left an astounding archiveâmore than thirty thousand pages. My greatest affection was for Thompson, but I gained a surprising empathy for King. I don't think he was a great leader, but he was, in his way, very human. He was like a character in a Samuel Beckett play. Diefenbaker was another character I hadn't much liked as a politician, but I had sympathy for the man. He became, very quickly, a man out of time. It is difficult to be so beloved and then so ignored. And Diefenbaker had no other life. He was purely political.
| Q: | How do you respond to those who say that Canadian history is boring, especially when compared with that of the United States? Why do you think Canadians are reluctant to embrace or explore our country's history? |
I think my generation was shortchanged as far as Canadian history went. I remember the Plains of Abraham being a compelling story. But I don't recall many other stories being told to us. Our history was presented as a series of inevitable battles, generically heroic figures, and dates. A lot of dates. I didn't sense a narrative, I didn't get a sense of the personalities. The drama had been removed, and the history felt neutered. So we looked to the south, where American history was being distorted in a thousand entertainments.
| Q: | If some of the historical figures in Kanata were able to borrow Mackenzie King's crystal ball and peer into the future, what do you think they would say about the nation that Canada has become and the state of their own personal legacies? |
Well, Clifford Siftonâthe minister of the interior under Wilfrid Laurier and the man charged with the task of filling
the empty prairies with immigrantsâwould be cheered. Diefenbaker would be disappointed that the British legacy has faded so much. Thompson would be proved right (he predicted that the Natives would be pushed off the land in favour of settlers). Mackenzie King would look at our current political situation with its minority stalemates and think that what the country needs is a man like him.
| Q: | You have an impressive career spanning fiction, non-fiction, and journalism. Do you find that your approach to writing changes depending on whether a project is fiction or non-fiction? Is one more rewarding than the other? |
At one level, non-fiction and fiction are a cure for each other. There are moments in non-fiction when you wish the character could be more interesting, or more flawed, or more something. But you're stuck with him. And there are days when the blank pages of fiction can be daunting rather than energizing, when one wishes for the prescriptive structure of non-fiction. But when it's going well, fiction probably offers the greater rewards. It is a purer act of creation, I suppose.
