Florence Banks, the protagonist of Tara Gereaux’s new novel, “Wild People Quiet” (Simon & Schuster Canada), resides in the fictional small town of Torduvalle, Sask., where the last thing she wants is for her appearance to draw her neighbours’ attention. For the past 30 years, when her brown roots begin to show, she delicately bleaches her hair so that she may pass as a white woman. The year is 1946, and Banks, a Métis woman, has cultivated a life of fragile dignity.
“She’d never want anyone who told her what she could and couldn’t do,” Gereaux writes. “She’s lucky in that way, not to have anyone to constrain her — no husband, no children; no one, period. Her whole life has been about getting to this point. This town, with this house and her job — a life without constraints. She’s worked hard for it.”
Following in the footsteps of Nella Larsen’s “Passing,” Darius James’ “Negrophobia” and Shirley Sterling’s “My Name Is Seepeetza,” Gereaux describes the state of precarity engendered by “double consciousness,” the concept advanced by W.E.B. Du Bois to describe how socially excluded races do not possess true self-consciousness, but can only see themselves through “the eyes of others,” “measuring one’s soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity.”
Taking its title from Prime Minister John A. Macdonald’s infamous words regarding the suppression of Louis Riel’s 1869 Métis uprising — “I anticipate that he (member of the House of Commons William McDougall) will have a good deal of trouble, and it will require considerable management to keep those wild people quiet” — the story of Florence Banks is a cautionary tale about racism operating within the highest levels of government, and how the institutional and epistemic violence that it unleashes will be felt for generations to come.
Gereaux, whose other books include “Saltus” and “Size of a Fist,” is a citizen of Métis Nation-Saskatchewan. She lives in Regina on Treaty 4 territory.
What did you last read and what made you read it?
“Greenwood” by Michael Christie. I’d been wanting to read it for a while, mostly because I understood it to be a literary crime or mystery novel, which it is, but it’s also about so much more — family, ambition, greed, climate change … And its unique structure that mirrors the concentric rings of a tree is astonishing.
What book would your readers be shocked to find in your collection?
People won’t be shocked to know I read comics, but I have several comics for middle-grade readers, and the “Lumberjanes” series by Shannon Watters, Grace Ellis, Noelle Stevenson and Gus Allen is one of them. There was a time in my life when I thought I’d end up being a children’s TV writer and though that’s no longer a goal, I do love clever comics with butt-kicking female characters for young people.
When was the last time you devoured a book in one, or very few, sittings?
I’m the slowest reader in the world, but I read Kevin Barry’s “Night Boat to Tangier” in two sittings. A haunting, hilarious and heartbreaking story about two aging gangsters and the effects that a life of crime has on the soul.
Who’s the one author or what’s the one book you’ll never understand, despite the praise?
What a dangerous question! But I will admit that while I enjoyed many aspects of Karl Ove Knausgård’s seasons quartet, there is still something about it I feel I don’t quite get. (Though, it may be unfair of me to select this series because I haven’t finished it yet.)
What’s the one book that has not garnered the success that it deserves?
Conor Kerr’s “Prairie Edge” definitely and deservedly received praise, but it deserved all the praise. It blew me away. About two Métis cousins who abduct a herd of bison from a national park and release them into downtown Edmonton to disrupt settler colonialism, it’s gripping and taut, and deeply moving.
What book would you give anything to read again for the first time?
Louise Erdrich’s novel “The Night Watchman” had me on my knees the entire time I was reading it. Inspired by her grandfather’s life, it’s about a man who fights against a U.S. bill that will see his community, the Turtle Mountain Band of Chippewa Indians, be dispossessed of their land under the guise of emancipation. It’s a painfully beautiful read. Her love for her characters — so flawed and complex and human — is in every single word, and her writing is layered and lyrical. Everything about it is stunning.
When you were 10 years old, what was your favourite book?
It was likely “Little Women.” I’m not sure if I was 10 exactly when I first read it, but it was my favourite for many years when I was young. I dreamed of being Jo — independent, driven and kinda badass, as well as loving and loyal.
What fictional character would you like to be friends with?
Maybe this stems from the fact that I lived with my grandparents for years while a child, or because I’m yearning for a kinder, gentler world right now, but I would love to live at the Cooper’s Chase Retirement Village and be friends with Joyce, Elizabeth, Ibrahim and Ron from the “Thursday Murder Club” series.
Do you have a comfort read that you revisit?
I keep returning again and again to Colum McCann’s “Let the Great World Spin.” I’m continually amazed at how he created such a varied cast of exquisitely drawn characters that dovetail in and out of each other’s lives over the course of a single day. It’s comforting to see someone handle such complexities — both in terms of themes and technique — so (seemingly) simply.
What was the last book that made you laugh or cry?
I bawled through the last several pages of André Alexis’s “Fifteen Dogs,” took a break after I finished it, then bawled some more. A powerful and insightful examination of the pains and joys of what it means to be human, all through the lives of dogs who gain consciousness.
What is the one book you wish you had written?
“Spill Simmer Falter Wither” by Sara Baume, about a misfit man and his misfit dog. I dream of writing something so bare and raw, so pared down and potent at once. At times, it felt like she had created her own language in this book.
What three authors living or dead would you like to have a coffee with?
Louise Erdrich. Toni Morrison. Stephen Fry. I think we’d laugh a lot.
What does your definition of personal literary success look like?
I will always write. Whether or not it is published is another thing entirely, but if my writing connects with others, if it sparks something within them — an idea or a feeling — then that’s literary success to me.
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