
No wannabe pretentions in new Brody work
Joan Taillon,
Windspeaker Staff Writer
The Other Side of Eden-
Hunters, Farmers and the Shaping of the World
By Hugh Brody
Douglas & McIntyre
374 pages
$35.00 (hc)
The Other Side of Eden-Hunters, Farmers and the Shaping
of the World may be unique among stories set in the High
Arctic.
Hugh Brody, a writer, anthropologist, university teacher and
filmmaker, has produced a book that the publishers describe as
"part memoir, part adventure story, part intellectual voyage."
That is accurate-it is all of these things.
But it is something more. The author is as mainstream white guy
as they come, right down to every last one of his establishment
connections, yet he managed to spend time in an assortment of
isolated Native communities, sop up their way of life like jackrabbit
stew, and come out-as far as I can tell by this book-still knowing
he is a white guy and that's OK.
A highly intellectual and adaptable man of Jewish heritage, Brody
has lived among the northern peoples of British Columbia on one
coast, Labrador on the other, Rankin Inlet in between, learned
a substantial Inuktitut vocabulary and immersed himself enough
in the Inuk culture that he seems to have gained a familial acceptance
in at least one place. Some other visitors in those circumstances
have either become Native wannabes or think they're already there,
or come out full of insight into how to solve Native problems.
Some lose sight of the difference between being a supporter of
Native causes and a crusader who believes he can speak for Natives.
You wouldn't expect Brody either to glorify the ways of life
he encountered or understate the problems, and he does neither
in this book. He respectfully avoids making certain observations
where he could have done that would have translated as value
judgements-good or bad-and that would have undermined the trust
he earned and his objectivity.
That's it: this book is a subjective account that remarkably
avoids imposing Brody's opinions. At the same time the opinions
are there and they are interesting reading.
It's Brody's life, his trip. While the purpose of his book is
to contrast the lives of hunter-gatherers and agricultural peoples,
the reader can share Brody's experiences, his reveries about
the importance of language, his research, without feeling compelled
towards dogmatic interpretation.
Allowing that this is a journal of sorts, the chapter on Creation,
replete with Hebrew letters and phrases, was a bit of a jolt.
What did this have to do with Aboriginal people, you might ask?
Well, he is not telling an Aboriginal story, he is telling his
own. That involves, for Brody, putting the biblical creation
myth at the centre of his agriculturist slant on the tale.
"The truth of Genesis," according to Brody, is that
it "lies in the profound and disturbing insights it offers
in to the heart of the society and economy that come with-and
descend from-agriculture. Farming has shaped much of the world-its
heritage, nations and cultures."
Later he talks about how Indigenous agricultural practices, settler
farming and hunter-gatherer adaptations to a rooted way of life
met, struggled, and accommodated or defeated each other.
"The evidence of language," Brody decided, "argues
that the farmers overwhelmed the hunters. But this does not mean
that farmers were not also hunters or that the hunters, before
being overwhelmed, did not attempt some farming."
He sets out a thoughtful analysis of the knowledge, intuition,
languages, spirituality and other attributes of the two societies
and their effect on shaping North America during the past 500
years. He says we not only still need both societies, but we
all can experience the need for both societies.
"Without the hunter-gatherers, Brody warns us, humanity
is diminished and cursed; with them, we can achieve a more complete
version of ourselves."
Anyone who knows a hunter-gatherer or comes from a community
that is maintaining the fragments of that way of life, will agree
that hunter-gatherers have their own story and their words must
be saved.