Where'd that arrow in my back come from?

Page 5

There are three things in this world I would urge people never to be or do. The first two are unimportant, but the third definitely would include being a critic or reviewer in the Native artistic community. Because no matter what you may write, you can be sure somebody you know will not like it and make sure that you know they do not like it. Or they will never talk to you again.

To begin with, in Canada, the Native population is fairly small. The Native artistic community is even smaller. And in a place like Toronto, most of the Native population would fit in my mother's back yard for a barbecue. As a playwright, I know almost all the other Aboriginal playwrights in Canada, as well as the vast majority of actors and directors. As a published author, I also know most of the other First Nations writers on a personal level. As a Native film-maker...you get the picture.

And with the advent of political correctness, it's no surprise that many institutions that review books, plays, films etc., would prefer to avoid the hassle of seeming insensitive to the artistic aspirations of this country's Indigenous population, and at the same time, review their work without a potentially "racist" slant. So often times, they call on a First Nations peer. That's where I often come into the picture, like a lamb to slaughter.

I think it's important to point out that unlike many critics, I actually work in the fields I may review. Otherwise, what's the point of offering up an uneducated opinion? God knows there's enough of those in the world. Critics can sometimes be like people who watch a lot of porn, but never have sex.

In the past I have reviewed books by Tom King, Brian Maracle and Richard Wagamese, as well as movies ranging from Dances with Wolves to Pocahontas. I've written my opinion about various television shows, and many detailed articles exploring the world of Aboriginal theatre. So needless to say, I've both pleased and pissed off a lot of people.

And the ironic thing is, I'm not an exceptionally brutal critic. I bend over backward to find positive things to say about the material I am reviewing. This is because there is often perceived to be a fine line between those who support our artists, and those who feel the need to be critical and drag them down. It's often referred to in the over-used cliched "crab story."

It goes something like this: "A man was walking down the beach one day and saw this Native man approaching. In the Native man's hand was a pail. Inside the pail was a bunch of live crabs. The man said to the Native man "You better put a lid on your pail or all your crabs will get away." The Native man shook his head with a smile, saying "I don't need a lid. They're Indian crabs. The minute one of them makes it to the top, the others will pull him back down."

That is often the danger of writing from inside a marginalized group. I have been told numerous times: "After 500 years of oppression and suppression, what our nations need is positive reinforcement and encouragement. Otherwise, you're playing into THEIR hands, and dividing us in our time of cultural renaissance"... or something like that.

As a result, the objectivity in reviews can be suspect. In many of the Native magazines I've seen, the review section consisted of 99.9 per cent glowing praise if the book/film/album was Native-originated. It got to the point where if I saw the word review, I didn't bother reading the text because I knew instinctively it would be kind words and rabid support. Again, it's difficult to consider such support as a fault after several hundred years of being told our stories and arts were worthless and meaningless. Thus the conflicted nature of being a Native critic.

Many other marginalized communities, i.e. the gay and lesbian community, the Asian, Jewish, Black, or left-handed walnuts merchants, have similar issues. It is perceived that an objective opinion can quickly be misconstrued as a personal attack and the reviewr has been corrupted by mainstream sensibilities.

The Native playwrighting populations may consist of a dozen or two, so every time you say or write something like "So'n'so's dialogue seemed a little cliched and could have been more original," it's not anonymous words form an anonymous patron. Especially when you've sat at the bar with this fellow writer, lent them money, or they lent you money, then it seems like a betrayal, regardless of the accuracy of your comments. I personally have received long letters deconstructing my reviews and pointing out, both rudely and politely, how invalid my opinion is. And that's what a review is, simply an opinion.

So with all that is being said, reviewing somebody's work is a huge responsibility. Reviewing somebody's work in the Native community is fraught with delicate considerations. However, growth comes with constructive criticism, be it Native or non-Native. The real trick is to take what you can, and ignore the rest. Easier said then done, but it sure beats getting an ulcer.