First effort needs rework
Joan Taillon,
Windspeaker Staff Writer
By The Skin of the Teeth
By G.E.M Munro
Tangent Books, Inc.
307 pages
$24.95 (sc)
When I saw G.E.M. Munro's recently published work of fiction,
By the Skin of the Teeth, with a painting by him illustrating
the front cover, I wanted to like the book.
I was only a little amused that the paperback, self-published
under the imprint of Tangent Books, Inc., had an even larger
photo of the author on the back. After all, it is his first book
in print; he wants to be known. There is none of the usual salutary
jacket-back copy, but on the inside back flap was another photo
of the author. Mmm . . . no writing, just the picture. My question
became then, would I find the author in the story too?
It's a work of fiction about the seamy side of Saskatoon and
about Native people's subsistence in that environment, written
by a former newspaper columnist for the now defunct Saskatoon
Free Press.
"Write what you know," is the advice given most often
to budding authors, and with Munro's experience as a journalist
in that city, you would expect him to have a handle on his subject.
He does, insofar as that relates to knowledge of the inner city's
social problems and the prejudice that Native and poor people
encounter from their less transient neighbors, agencies and authorities.
In the forward, fellow journalist Warren Goulding, who also recently
published a Saskatchewan-based book about Natives, sets up Munro's
work as a testament to the truth about survival in the decaying
substrata of downtown.
Sorry to say, though, I don't find Skin of the Teeth as
powerful a book as does Goulding and I can't agree with the great
reviews of it that I have seen published on the Web. Just because
it shows empathy for the plight of the unfortunate and it sounds
a call to action for marginalized Natives is no reason to ignore
the book's faults.
And faults there are plenty, once you get past the fact that
Munro or his wife, who handles publicity, at least chose a readable
typeface for its 307 pages.
Mainly, Munro puts dialogue into the mouths of street people
that they don't use in real life. The speeches of Solania, the
prostitute who doubles as a prophet and becomes the love of protagonist
journalist Perles' life, don't ring true. They're speeches.
Native people in the circumstances of this fictionalized character
just don't talk this way: In her first encounter with Perles,
in a restaurant, Solania asks him for money. Perles says no and
asks her why she thinks he'd give her money if he had any.
Solania says this: "One day you will kneel before me as
my servant, and when you rise again, it will be as my knight.
But before you come to that day, you will have great suffering."
Perles, who is nearly always suffering from the need for a drink
or recovery from drink, thinks -he just met her, remember-"I
think I must be resembling a fish she's caught and holds gasping
in her hand." He answered, "What audacity! I bend my
knee to no one."
Solania's character is flat and undernourished, much as her body
is portrayed. We're supposed to believe she, with no identifiable
connection to any Native community, shows up in Saskatoon and
starts spouting visions and minor prophesies, not a few of which
involve Perles. All of a sudden other Native people rally around
her and become activists in the cause of their own downtrodden
rights.
With Solania to lead the charge, there are demonstrations and
challenges to the same civil authorities that kept them cowed
until the guru lady appeared. Nobody thinks to ask Solania what
she's been sniffing, as they might do in real life.
When her own words fail her, she quotes Perles. She goes to the
newspaper office, reads and absorbs his columns, which echo her
own opinions. She "hungrily consumed his eloquence and dark
wit in defense of the defenseless." Not bad for a street
person.
Perles, too, is an enigma. As an alcoholic newspaper columnist
hanging tenuously onto his job, we are supposed to believe that
he defends the underdog by day and perhaps murders them by night.
Even Perles doesn't know the truth. Not just whether he committed
one murder, but several. Someone plants the clues to implicate
him and he actually wonders if he's done it. But again, his character
hasn't been developed to make us wonder too.
The exposition, in dialogue or otherwise, needs an overhaul.
It's here that I wonder if I've met a crusading Munro in the
book's characters, especially Perles.
Some of the descriptions are good. The book can be salvaged.
Munro should rework it and find a commercial publisher. Chances
are that with only 2,000 copies printed, not too many people
will read what should have been a draft manuscript.