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The AIH Transcript for November 11, 2019

Hosts: Carol Off and Karen Gordon

CAROL OFF: Hello, I'm Carol Off.

KAREN GORDON: Good evening, I'm Karen Gordon. This is As It Happens.

[Music: Theme]

Prologue

KG: Tonight:

CO: Coach's scorners. There was outcry and outrage when Don Cherry disparaged new immigrants on TV this past weekend — and now, the outspoken guy in the outlandish suits is just out.

KG: Ring of fire. A year ago, our guest was trapped on the road with her five-month-old son, surrounded by the wildfire that would destroy Paradise, California — and tonight, she'll tell us how she's moved on.

CO: Taking courage from their conviction. Two Halifax booking officers are found guilty of criminal negligence, after Corey Rogers died in a holding cell — and his mother says that's a step towards necessary change.

KG: Under no management. Bolivia's longtime president Evo Morales resigns, blaming what he calls a "coup" — and amid the ongoing confusion, no one is filling the leadership void.

CO: Flying colours. 75 years ago, Howard McNamara was a Canadian fighter pilot during the "Italian Campaign" — and as he prepares to return for a special commemoration, he's remembering those who didn't survive the mission.

KG: And...plus they're concerned about his "Crazy Horse". Neil Young was all set to become an American citizen, before authorities questioned his "GMC — the official abbreviation for "Good Moral Character" — because of his pot-smoking.

KG: As It Happens, the Monday edition. Radio that urges them to go easy on a Young offender.

[Music: Theme]

Part one: Don Cherry fired, Halifax detention conviction, Italian campaign vet

Don Cherry fired

Guest: Sunaya Sapurji

KG: Don Cherry is out. Today, the longtime, controversial co-host of "Coach's Corner" on "Hockey Night in Canada" was fired. Sportsnet said in a statement that, quote, "it has been decided it is the right time for him to immediately step down." Unquote. That decision came because of these comments about the Remembrance Day poppy, which aired live on Saturday night.

SOUNDCLIP

DON CHERRY: You people love… That come here, whatever it is. You love our way of life. You love our milk and honey. At least you could pay a couple of bucks for poppies or something like that. These guys pay for your way of life that you enjoy in Canada. These guys paid the biggest price.

00:02:35 - SPEAKER: F1

KG: Don Cherry, singling out new immigrants to Canada on Saturday night's broadcast of "Coach's Corner". For Sunaya Sapurji, those comments hurt. She's the assistant managing editor with "The Athletic Toronto", and a life-long "Hockey Night In Canada" fan. We reached her in Toronto.

CO: SUNAYA, you wrote in your online piece — it was published this morning — the headline was “It's Time To Say Goodbye To Don Cherry”. Did you expect that by afternoon, that you would be right?

SUNAYA SAPURJI: I didn't actually, but the outpouring has been so huge. You know, after the comments he made on Saturday night, I think there really was no other recourse for Sportsnet to take.

CO: And how do you feel about it? What was your reaction when you heard that he had been fired?

SS: Um, I was actually surprised. You know, Carol, this isn't the first time that he said something offensive or controversial. And he's been able to survive unscathed going back to when he was still with CBC on Hockey Night in Canada before Sportsnet took over those rights. I thought they would just wait for this to blow over, and this would just be another one of these incidents.

CO: And just remind people what are some of the other things he's had to say that were so offensive?

SS: He's called Europeans and French Canadians soft for wearing visors. You know, he's taken potshots at Russian players. He's spoken out against concussion spotters or players who have suffered concussions. People who ride bicycles are pinkos. Like no one has been left unscathed by Don Cherry in his Saturday rants.

CO: At one point, those enforcers — three former ones — who is he called pukes because they spoke out about the dangers of drugs and alcohol. That was after the deaths of some enforcers from the game. So that was another thing he said.

SS: Yeah. That was back in 2011. And then even more recently, he attacked former players who were involved in the NHL’s concussion settlement, saying that it was a money grab. And, you know, that's a bit rich coming from Don Cherry, who has profited from his “Rock’Em Sock’em” videos — which features the same players getting injured or fighting.

CO: At what point did you hear that he had made these remarks ?

SS: Very soon after. The clips began circulating.

CO: And, of course, just to remind people in case they’ve not heard it already, but that it involved people who don't wear poppies that he accused of being, he said that you said that you people love our way of life. You love our milk and honey. The least you can do is pay a couple bucks for a poppy. These guys paid for your way of life that you enjoy in Canada. These guys paid the biggest price. Any doubt in your mind as to who you people is referring to?

SS: No, because he also juxtaposed that with talking about him seeing very few people wearing poppies in downtown Toronto and in Mississauga, where he lives. Toronto is very diverse — as is Mississauga — so I don't think there was any question about what he was trying to say.

CO: Not just that the remark is racist, it's just factually inaccurate. When it comes to service and sacrifice, there are people, not only immigrants in Canada who have been in wars since the Great War to Afghanistan, but also people from other countries who have made enormous sacrifices. What's the reality there?

SS: Yeah, I mean, my great uncle was a doctor in World War 2, and he was killed in Burma. And I think sometimes people forget about the sacrifices that other countries made during World War 2 or in different conflicts. I think one of the really sad things about what Don Cherry said was the fact that you know his comments took away from what we should be doing today. Today we shouldn't really be talking about Don Cherry. We should be talking about our veterans and paying respect to the people who have sacrificed so much for us.

CO: And when you say your great uncle, he was in India and went off to fight the British war effort like so many others from India. And so many more people from India and from other British colonies lost their lives fighting in those wars, didn't they?

SS: Yes, they did. You know, it's estimated that India supported the British air war effort with 2.5 million soldiers around the world. And one of the things about the Indian army at that time is that they were all recruits. Everyone was a volunteer. There was no conscription.

CO: You write that your grandmother, she rarely spoke of her brother — your great uncle — but your grandmother was also a great hockey fan, right?

SS: Yes, she was surprisingly. You know, she became a fan of the Montreal Canadiens. And she would watch them on the French broadcast — even though she couldn't speak or understand French. When I asked her about it, she said she loved the game because it was so fast. And so she became a big hockey fan — at least a Habs fan, yeah.

CO: What do you think she would have thought of Don Cherry's remarks the other night?

SS: To be honest, I don't think she would have paid any attention to him. I think she would know what her family and people like her have contributed to Canada. I don't think she would've paid any attention to those comments.

CO: And lots of people aren't because they just know Don Cherry says things like that. But a lot of people are upset that Ron MacLean would give him the thumbs up sitting next to him. What did you think of that?

SS: Yeah, you know, I think a lot of people have come to expect that from Don Cherry. And I think what was really disappointing was Ron MacLean's reaction to that. Usually, you look to Ron MacLean for pushback. And so that was a little disappointing that wasn't challenged at the time. Though I did see Ron MacLean's apology afterwards and thought it was heartfelt.

CO: You often saw Ron MacLean looking quite uncomfortable next to Don Cherry when he said things. And do you think that there's a part of Ron MacLean — maybe part of a lot of Canadians — that sees this as an opportunity to rethink how we cover hockey?

SS: I would hope so. And I think things like Hockey Night in Punjabi is a great start. I would love to see more visible minorities, more people of colour, more women on the broadcasts or behind the scenes. I think that would be a great start.

CO: We will leave it there. Sunaya, I appreciate speaking with you. Thank you.

SS: Thank you so much, Carol.

KG: Sunaya Sapurji is the assistant managing editor with "The Athletic Toronto". According to Toronto Sun Reporter Joe Warmington, Don Cherry says he won't apologize for Saturday night's comments. Speaking to Mr. Warmington on the phone, Don Cherry said, quote, "I know what I said and I meant it. Everybody in Canada should wear a poppy to honour our fallen soldiers." Unquote. And you can find more on that story on the As It Happens website: www.cbc.ca/aih.

[Music: Ambient]

Halifax detention convictions

Guest: Jeannette Rogers

KG: Jeannette Rogers knows that nothing is going to bring her son back. Corey Rogers died in 2016, after being taken into police custody in Halifax for public drunkenness. When he was put in a holding cell, he was wearing what's called a "spit hood" — a device over his mouth to prevent him from spitting. Mr. Roger's choked to death on his own vomit in that cell, while wearing that hood. Now, a jury has found the two officers who booked Mr. Rogers guilty of criminal negligence causing his death. But that's not enough to satisfy his mother. She's also fighting for changes she hopes will prevent more deaths. We reached Jeannette Rogers in Halifax, Nova Scotia.

CO: Jeannette, what does this guilty verdict mean to you?

JENNETTE ROGERS: It means that we've finally gotten justice — or some justice — for Corey. I was deathly afraid that it was going to be a hung jury and have to do it all over again. But I was so pleased when the verdict came in as guilty.

CO: I spoke to you last two years ago, after the two special constables were charged. And at that time, you told me that your son Corey had choked to death in police custody. You'd seen as much of the video of what happened as you could possibly watch. But there were details that were still unclear to you. And I wonder if you have had some of those blanks filled in now? What do you now know about the night that your son died?

JR: I know that he was sitting in the back of the police car, but he was banging his head on what they called the silent partner — which is Plexiglas between the prisoner and the officer. So he wasn't actually spitting at anyone. And then when they got him out of the car, I don't think he refused to walk. I think he took one step and then he faltered. I don't think he was on shape to walk.

CO: Because he was very intoxicated, wasn't he?

JR: He was, in the fact that he had chugged or downed or whatever you want to call it a half a pint of Fireball whiskey just before they arrested him. Would lead a reasonable person to believe that he would become more drunk as time went on.

CO: At what point did they put this with the call this spit hood — this mesh hood over — his head that was to prevent him from presumably spitting at the police?

JR: They put it on as soon as they got him out of the car. It was sort of like one swift movement.

CO: And then they brought him in.

JR: And then they brought and laid him on the booking room floor. You could hear him moaning, and I'm sure I heard him say help me at least twice. When they asked him to stand up and walk, he did very clearly say no. But I think that that might have been because he was unable to. The booking officers watched from behind the desk. They didn't come out to check on him. Cheryl Gardner wrote in the medical report that every question — the first seven — were too intoxicated to answer.

CO: We’ll just point out Cheryl Gardner is one of the two who were convicted. This is Cheryl Gardner and Dan Fraser, the two special constables who were supposed to after he was put in the cell with this mesh hood still on him. They were supposed to check every 15 minutes, but they didn't check on him for several hours. Is that what you learned?

JR: Yes, they walked past the cell, but they didn't break stride. Plus, Cheryl Gardner said at one point one of the notes that he responded with grunts and snores. But I believe that that was after he had already passed. The medical examiner put his time of death at 11:41, and no one went in that cell until 1:39.

CO: They were convicted of criminal negligence causing death of your son. Did they express any regret?

JR: I saw none. The only regret I saw was when the guilty verdict came down. And Dan Fraser put his head in his hand. I didn't see it as I'm sorry. I saw it as oh no.

CO: When I spoke with you last, you described your son Corey. Well, you talked about he had this great sense of humour. He loved books. He loved chess. He'd been a tremendous caregiver for you when you were ill.

JR: That’s right.

CO: And you spoke of his problem with alcohol.

JR: Yes.

CO: How do you think he should have been treated by police that night?

JR: I think he should have gone to hospital. Because for one thing, there was no way of knowing if he had a head injury from banging his head. Plus, they should have known that he had downed this. He did it in front of the first officer that arrived. So they should have known that his intoxication level would be rising. They went in and got a spit hood. And on the outside of the packaging of the spit hood are the warnings they're not to leave someone alone with it on. And they’re only supposed to be on if the person is handcuffed or restrained in some way.

CO: And he was asphyxiated because of wearing that hood?

JR: Exactly.

CO: You've lost your son. You have gone through this trial over these years. What else do you want to see happen? What changes would you like to see because of the way that Corey died?

JR: I want to see spit hoods totally done away with. You wouldn't treat an animal the way that they treated my son that night. And the hoods are obviously unsafe.

CO: Those two special constables who were convicted are scheduled to be sentenced in February. And the crown attorney has said that they won't be seeking the maximum a life sentence. What would justice look like to you? What sentence would you like to see?

JR: I would like to see them get at least two years in prison. I mean no matter how much time they serve it's not going to bring Corey back. But I'd like to see them serve some time at least.

CO: Well, we'll be following that development in the New Year, Jeannette. And I appreciate speaking with you again.

JR: Very good. Not a problem.

CO: And, again, I'm so sorry about your son.

JR: Thank you, Carol.

KG: Jeannette Rogers is the mother of Corey Rogers. He died in police custody in 2016. Yesterday, two Halifax special constables were convicted for criminal negligence causing his death. We reached Jeannette Rogers in Halifax.

[Music: Sombre]

Italian campaign vet

Guest: Howard McNamara

KG: 75 years ago, Howard McNamara was a Canadian fighter pilot, stationed in Corsica during the Second World War. He and other members of the Allied Forces were in Italy, as part of the Italian Campaign — an effort to attack enemy territory in Europe, and divert German resources from the Eastern Front. Now, decades later, Mr. McNamara is returning to Italy. Later this month, the 99-year-old former pilot and some of his fellow veterans will attend a special ceremony commemorating the 75th anniversary of the Italian Campaign. But today, it's the ones who won't be there — the ones who didn't make it — who are on his mind. We reached Howard McNamara at home in Montreal

CO: Howard, what comes to mind for you on Remembrance Day?

HOWARD MCNAMARA: Well, Remembrance Day is a day that we're sort of asked to remember the young ones that didn't make it. In my case, I lost my kid brother, and I also lost a few other cousins. So when it comes time to think of those boys, that's when we stop and think at what went on.

CO: You signed up with your brother. He went ahead of you even though he was younger. And you were stationed in a number of places during the war.

HM: Yeah.

CO: What were you doing during when the Italian campaign started?

HM: We were flying fighters. Sometimes we escorted bombers across into Italy. And when we weren’t doing that, we were flying over looking for supply lines. So we'd go down and disrupt the communication, you might say.

CO: And so you have to get fairly close to the action for that or to enemy lines. So how dangerous was your mission?

HM: Dangerous enough that if we were close enough to bombers, we were liable to get hit with the anti-aircraft being shot up to them.

CO: Were you ever hit?

HM: Oh yes, I saw the German behind me in time that I got out of the way. Bullets hit the tip of my wing and the aircraft in front of me. I was protecting him. He got hit in the tail. Luckily, we both survived.

CO: At one point, you did actually have a crash. Can you tell me about that?

HM: I had a crash when we got to Tunisia. I happened to be walking around in the working area where they repair aircraft. And we were being shot at by anti-aircraft. So to protect the aircraft, I was asked to take an aircraft and find a friendly airfield to land. But I had no radio. So we got a little confused on the landing. And I landed the short part of the runway and went nose-over-tail, and an aircraft broke in half. I was slightly injured, but not too seriously.

CO: Wow! That could have been a lot worse. [HM laughs] Can I ask what happened to your brother?

HM: He got killed over France when he was 21. He was flying a fighter aircraft with the Canadian Air Force. He was shot down, yeah.

CO: That must have been very hard on your mom.

HM: Yes, she received the silver medal for that.

CO: And where is your brother buried?

HM: They never did find any part of his body. The whole aircraft was destroyed. There is a large monument just outside London, but all missing Canadian airmen, they’re listed on that monument.

CO: And your brother is one of them?

HM: He's one of them, yup.

CO: When you and your brother went down in Montreal to sign up, what were you thinking about what you were doing?

HM: Well, I don't know, well, you wouldn’t remember back 100 years ago [CO chuckles].

CO: No.

HM: Joining the war to protect the British allies. We thought we were big shots then.

CO: I've seen photos. You're both pretty good looking young fellows who are signing up.

HM: Thanks but, well, everybody was in the same category. Might as well go and help the organization.

CO: Did you worry that you might be killed or that you might be hurt?

HM: In those days, at that age, nothing hurts you. You’re the boss.

CO: You feel invincible.

HM: That was the attitude, more or less.

CO: It's going to be the 75th anniversary commemoration and Italy of the Italian campaign. You're going back for that I guess, eh? That's in a few weeks.

HM: Yes, the 75th is the last one.

CO: And how many vets are still around to share that moment with you?

HM: From what I have learned, there is 22 going.

CO: Oh my! What does it mean for you, Howard, to go there?

HM: Well, I think veterans who gave their lives deserve a little consideration to be honoured in that way.

CO: And I agree with you. But what do you get out of it?

HM: Satisfaction that maybe I could have been there. In one cemetery, at the 70s, the last visit, one of the local volunteers brought us over to a stone commemorating a young veteran. When we looked at what was written on the stone, the kid was 17 years old. So you might say he deserves appreciation. And we're the only ones that can do it.

CO: Howard, thank you so much for helping us remember what happened to people like your brother.

HM: Thank you for calling.

CO: Take care.

HM: Okay, bye-bye.

KG: Howard McNamara is a Canadian war veteran who took part in the Italian Campaign — and will commemorate its 75th anniversary in a special ceremony in Italy, later this month. We reached him in Montreal.

[Music: Piano]

Neil Young GMC

KG: "Roll Another Number for the Road". A song about a person preparing a marijuana "joint" — before operating a motor vehicle. Does that sound like a person with GMC? Some of you look confused when I refer to "GMC". Well, in U.S. citizenship policy, it stands for "Good Moral Character". As defined in the policy manual. "GMC means character which measures up to the standards of average citizens of the community in which the applicant resides." Now, granted, Mr. Young lives in California, so those community standards may be seen as... umm... lower than they might be elsewhere in the U.S. Furthermore, he's Canadian, and who knows what's going on up there! Still, we know he uses marijuana. And now that he wants dual citizenship, so he can vote in the 2020 U.S. election, that is an issue. As Mr. Young himself points out in a blog post today. He writes that he passed his American citizenship test, and was scheduled to take the oath tomorrow. But that's been postponed, because of a policy change in April. "An applicant who is involved in certain marijuana-related activities may lack GMC, if found to have violated federal law — even if such activity is not unlawful under applicable state or foreign laws." So now Neil Young has to take an additional test to prove his Good Moral Character for his "marijuana-related activities" — which raises questions about his GMC.

[Music: Ambient]

Part two: Paradise fire survivor, Bolivia coup?

Paradise fire survivor

Guest: Ellen Johnson

KG: Just over a year ago, fire ripped through Paradise, California. The Camp Fire destroyed the quiet town, costing 16-point-5 million U.S. dollars in damage, and killing 85 people. It was the deadliest fire in the country in a century. At the time, we spoke with Ellen VandenBerg — who spent hours stuck on the highway trying to escape with her five-month-old son as the flames got closer. Here's what she told Carol last November.

SOUNDCLIP

ELLEN VANDENBERG: It was terrifying. And looking at the people in the cars and everyone is scared. And there was one man who kept getting out of his truck and pacing through all the cars. And I rolled down my window. I said, what's going on? And he said I have no idea. He said, but it's coming behind us. It's coming up on us, you know? And I knew he was right. And then the cell service went out. Because I kept calling my husband and saying okay, I’ve moved, you know, a couple of streets further. No one across from the Walgreens or now I’m at this intersection, you know, barely creeping along. And then the cell service went out. And that's sort of when it got bad for me because I didn't have anyone to talk to. At one point, I thought, should I be pouring water on my son? Like [breaking down], are we going to die in our car?

KG: That was Ellen VandenBerg speaking with Carol a year ago, after she fled the enormous wildfire known as the Camp Fire, in Paradise, California. A year on, people are still assessing the damage, and the recovery. So we called Ellen VandenBerg again. She now goes by Ellen Johnson. And we reached her in Grants Pass, Oregon, where she lives with her son and her husband.

CO: Ellen, I can't imagine what it's like for you to hear yourself from a year ago?

ELLEN JOHNSON: Yeah, that was harder than I thought [chuckle]. It's tough.

CO: What comes back when you hear that?

EJ: You know, just that so many hours of being just so trapped and with so many other people and we were all just trapped together. And I just was, you know, there was a level of powerlessness that was really hard for me. I remember trying to plan out what should I do if, you know? And the pouring water on my son thing, that was I definitely was like okay, we're going to have to run. And there's no way we can get through this because there's fire everywhere. So yeah, there was a lot of fear for me then.

CO: And your baby, he was five months old at that point?

EJ: He was.

CO: You told us about the moment when you could finally break away, when they closed both ways — both directions — of the highway and you just booted it and you got out of there and you met with your husband. And we spoke to you just after that. So what a relief for you!

EJ: Oh yeah, that was the best part. [happy laugh] All of a sudden, there was blue sky and, you know, still some smoke, but it was definitely I broke free from the pack and drove, yeah.

CO: You told us also that as you. You got out of that and left people behind who were still trying to get out of the same situation you had been in, you couldn't stop thinking about them and whether some didn't survive.

EJ: Yeah.

CO: Do you know anything more about others, the people who were with you on the road that day?

EJ: You know, Netflix just put out a documentary called “Fire In Paradise”. And I watched that finally. It took me a long time to watch it. We watched it on November 8th, on the one year anniversary just to kind of, you know, go back and be in memory of what happened. And, you know, it's it was nice to get more information about stories that, you know, people told. And there were people who did have to get out of their cars and run. And I knew that, but no one had told me that. I just I knew that that must've been the case. But I still don't have very much information about you know the majority of the people and how it all worked and how it all happened. You know, after that day I left.

CO: You've never been back?

EJ: We've been back. We went back twice, but just to go and see the property. But there aren't that many people there. You know, we're not in the community.

CO: What's it like now? Do you know who's still there? What have they been able to rebuild?

EJ: I've heard that they've built some houses, but not many. I know that there are people living there. There are trailers everywhere. But it just looks so different that I mean it’s not the same town.

CO: Where did you live after the fire?

EJ: Um, we spent about four months in the Sacramento area — which was a culture shock — kind of in the city. And then we moved to a cabin actually in the woods [laughing]. It was close to where my husband was teaching, and we lived at 4,000 feet elevation in the snow. We had about five feet of snow there for the winter. And that was a little cabin that was off grid. And so we did that.

CO: Was that healing for you? [laughing] I mean, many people couldn't do it, but it sounds quite lovely.

EJ: Oh no, I very much needed that. We didn't have internet access. We had very limited cell access. And there was snow everywhere. And I had a backpack for my son and snowshoes. And I would snowshoe every day. And I would go walk up to the generator house and put gas in the generator. And it was very peaceful and very kind of like idyllic. It was just nothing that I was used to. But it was very much what I needed. I needed to just be away from everything.

CO: You must be aware of what so many people have gone through. I mean, there were 85 people killed in that fire. And people were found in the cars that they didn't get out of. And your escape is, well, it was just a victory, wasn’t it?

EJ: Yeah. You know, I kind of couldn't get over that we just lost everything. And now, I realize that we have everything. We have everything that we need. We have everything that we could possibly want. We, you know, even got our pets and everything. So it's like there's this level of gratitude of how we came out of it. But then also we think about the people that didn't. And we think about the people that have that did get out, but that are having a really hard time bouncing back. I mean, I really feel for some of the older folks and some of them, you know, just the folks that didn't fare well, you know?

CO: Your boy is how old now?

EJ: Seventeen months.

CO: What's his name?

EJ: Knox.

CO: How is Knox doing?

EJ: He's good. Yeah, he's just running around now and climbing on everything, and he has a little tricycle that he's riding. And yeah, he doesn't remember any of it [laughing].

CO: Could you live in an area that was prone to fires again? It seems some people say they look at it as the new normal. They're prepared to leave whenever they have to. Could you ever do that again?

EL: Oh, I mean, I don't know. I don't know. That's a very good question. I don't know if I could. What I like about where we live now is there's a river. Even now it's you know November again, but we haven't had much rain, but still everything's green. And then just last month, those fires in Vallejo in California, Sonoma, all those fires. That was scary for me. I definitely was feeling those people and trying to figure out how we could contact some of them and say hey, if you need a place to stay come stay with us. You know, because I know it's so hard to be displaced and not know where to go and it's just so rough.

CO: Ellen, I'm glad the things that you have recovered. For the most part, you've got your family, you’ve got what you need. And it's good to talk to you again. Thank you.

EL: Yeah, thank you so much.

CO: Take care.

EL: You too. Bye.

KG: Ellen Johnson survived the Camp Fire in Paradise, California last year. We reached her in Grants Pass, Oregon. We have more on her story on our website: www.cbc.ca/aih.

[Music: Sombre]

Gillers Bezmozgis

KG: In the first story of the latest collection by David Bezmozgis, a man in Toronto gets in a car accident. It's not a serious one. But it ends up revealing some serious truths about the immigrant experience. Mr. Bezmozgis is one of six writers nominated for this year's hundred-thousand dollar Giller Prize, which will be awarded next Monday. Before that, we're featuring readings from all the finalists' books — including Immigrant City, which the Giller Prize Jury called a "wise and assured collection."

Here is David Bezmozgis.

SOUNDCLIP

DAVID BEZMOZGIS: I have three daughters. One is a baby. One is seven and prefers to stay at home. One is four and wants to come with me wherever I go — even to the drugstore or the bank. If I don't take her, she cries. Recently, backing out of a tight parking spot, I damaged the front passenger side door of my car. I heard the sound of metal against concrete — the sound of self-recrimination, duller and incalculable expense. In the aftermath, I called my wife, who was born in America and raised in mindless California abundance. For her family, scratching cars and misplacing wallets was like a hobby. I, on the other hand, had been an immigrant child with all the heartache and superiority that conferred. We ate spotted fruit. I told my wife what I'd done. Her response was less than sympathetic. I called the car dealership. I called the local body shop. I called a number tacked to a telephone pole. Then I called my uncle Alex, whose greatest fears were identity theft and getting a bad deal. He told me of a Serbian mechanic, who if you paid in cash and didn't ask any questions. I started dialing the Serbs number when I remembered the year was 2015 and the incompatibility of my uncle's fears. On a classified’s website, I keyed in the make and model of my car door. Who knew? Didn’t every kind of flotsam washed up on the blasted shores of the Internet, including a black 2012 Toyota Highlander front passenger side door? Indeed, there one was, offered for sale by Mohamed Abdi Mohammed of Rexdale. In the accompanying photo, taken on an apartment balcony, the sun glinting off its immaculate finish, it looked just like my door before I'd mangled it. I sent Mohamed a text. He texted me back. I counter-texted. Soon we had a deal consummated in texts. There are a number of practical questions that could be posed at this point, presume my wife posed and I answered them. However, there are many different considerations in life and practical is a relative term. Perhaps buying a car door from a stranger on the Internet isn't the most practical decision. But I was viewing the thing in existential terms. I was asking who am I? How far have I strayed from my formative self? What is the selling of my soul? The next morning I prepared to go get my door. My wife needed the car for work, but that didn't deter me. How do you plan to get it home? She asked. Like an immigrant. As I put on my shoes, my four-year-old, Nora, sidled up to me. Where are you going, Papa? To get the door. We’re in that aimless interval between the end of summer camp and the start of the school year, a nanny was looking after the baby, and the two older girls were either fighting or intertwined in front of the television, a lazy fan spinning overhead. I want to come with you, she said. It's far, I said. In anticipation of my answer, she made ready to cry. I reflected. Was this precisely the sort of trip my daughters needed? What do they know of the real world? While they eat take out sushi, Syrian refugees were being tear gassed by Hungarian cops. And Greek grandmothers flayed by austerity were walking off rooftops. My oldest daughter resisted all coercions, so Nora and I set out on the journey by ourselves.

KG: David Bezmozgis, reading from his short-story collection Immigrant City at a recent Scotiabank Giller Prize "Between the Pages" event in Toronto. The winner of this year's Giller Prize will be announced one week from today on CBC Radio and Television. For more on all the contenders — and instructions on how to tune in — visit: www.cbcbooks.ca.

[Music: Horns!]

Bolivia coup?

Guest: Raul Penaranda

KG: Evo Morales is calling it a coup. Thirteen years after he became Bolivia's first Indigenous president, Mr. Morales gave up power over the weekend. He's now been granted asylum by the government of Mexico. Mr. Morales' sudden departure follows weeks of protests in the capital, La Paz — protests that Bolivia's police and military refused to stop. His departure also follows serious questions about his recent, really-close, election win. But Mr. Morales isn't conceding anything, and tonight, it's his supporters who've taken to the streets. Raul Penaranda is the managing editor of the news agency Agencia de Noticias Fides. We reached him in La Paz.

CO: Raul, who is in charge of Bolivia tonight?

RAUL PENARANDA: Well, Carol, actually nobody. We have a vacuum of power that is really annoying and incredible. This is the first 24 hours that we are without government. We don't have ministers, we don’t have actually nobody in charge. And apparently, this is going to last maybe quite for a few more days. We don't know.

CO: Okay, so really annoying. Is it also a bit dangerous?

RP: Yes, dangerous because now we have groups of people that support former President Morales that are looting some houses and stores. They set fire on different houses. So we have a very violent situation right now. In my neighbourhood where I live, today, people that thought that we were in the situation that we have to leave our houses. So this is really a situation that is dangerous. And that we don't see really how could this end.

CO: And we know that Mr. Morales — Evo Morales — is calling this a coup d'etat, as he leaves the presidency. What would you call it? How would you describe it?

RP: I don't think it’s a coup d'etat really. We had three weeks of protests in Bolivia — massive protests. Most of Bolivian cities were with road blockades. We had a situation where the president could not come to La Paz — the seat of government — because the city was totally taken by the protesters. In only three weeks after the protests began, he lost most of his power. And at the end, of course, when the police first entered mutiny, and then the army told him to resign, it was the only chance that he had. But I don't think there is a coup d'etat.

CO: How important was the role of the military and the police in Bolivia to Mr. Morales decision to step down on the weekend?

RP: It is important. When the president loses the support of the police and the army, it is important. But that was only the last face of this crisis. Actually, we had these three weeks of protests. Those protests made the police to mutiny and the army to say what they say. I understand that for a foreigner eye, this could be seen as a coup d'etat. But I insist that the country was I think totally ungovernable for the president before the mutiny and before the army's decision. He could not come to La Paz because the streets were taken all over the place by protesters.

CO: Yes, outsiders looking in, we’re looking through our filters, aren't we? But aren't people in Bolivia also questioning the role that the military played in the decisions on the weekend?

RP: I'm sure — especially Morales supporters. They think that the army pushed him out of power. But what were the chances that we had? I mean, what were Morales chances of staying in power? I think that maybe we can see it in another way — the opposite way. Maybe, in this case, this army's decision was a way of making that kind of a peaceful transition. It didn't happen because now we have all this looting, et cetera.

CO: So what happened because Mr. Morales was, as you know, quite popular. He had power for 13 years. He came in on a wave of popular support. First Indigenous president that you'd had in Bolivia. What changed that that he is now so unpopular?

RP: I think that one important thing here is the referendum of 2016. He lost that referendum to change the constitution to be able to run for a fourth term. But then he went to the Constitutional Court where his friends were. And this Constitutional Court said that he could run again. So I think that that's the origin of the problem. The moment when Morales didn't accept the result of the referendum, I think that there was a big change in Bolivian mood. In this election, in the election night, when 83 per cent of the vote was counted, and there were only seven points of difference between Morales and Mr. Mesa, who was second. And the second ground needed to be called. The results were, as you know, shut down. And 24 hours later, they are resumed, and suddenly the difference is not seven points. It is ten-point-one, just enough to avoid calling a second round. So that I think that also was kind of a moment where this wave of protests began.

CO: We know that that President Trump is supporting Mr. Morales’s defeat. And, at the same time, Mr. Morales is saying that he is not going anywhere. He you said you never abandoned me. I will never abandon you. And he is going to repudiate this coup he says. What support at this point does Mr. Morales have?

RP: This is a very polarized country. And I think that Morales has a big support. He has still a big support. He won with 47 per cent with fraud. But let's say 45, it's still a lot for a person that is 14 years in power. So he's still popular. And especially he's popular in rural areas, with Indigenous people, with peasants, and in general, he's very popular among poor people we can say. But this is a country that is polarized. And another half of the country wanted a change after 14 years of government. Mr. Morales was an authoritarian leader. He co-opted the media. He chased journalists. He sue many journalists. He put in jail his opponents. So also in Bolivian mood was to recover a sense of normalcy. We can say that the country is divided by two. With two sides that it is said that there is no dialogue between those two sides.

CO: Raul, it's really good to talk to you. This has been very helpful. Thank you.

RP: Thank you very much, Carol. Bye-bye.

KG: Raul Penaranda is the managing editor of the news agency Agencia de Noticias Fides. We reached him in La Paz, Bolivia.

[Music: Ambient]

SOD: NZ winning bird

KG: New Zealanders take their birds very seriously. So when the country's annual Bird of the Year contest comes up, the competition is fierce. Take, for example, the Hoiho — the rarest penguin in the world. And a bird with a rare place in the hearts of New Zealand's bird-lovers: this year, it won Bird of the Year with 12-thousand-and-twenty-two votes — which is more than three times the amount of Hoiho penguins left on the planet. Hoihos are a weird bunch. They're extremely anti-social. And when mates reunite, they greet one another with this delightful squawk. It's our sound of the day.

SOUNDCLIP

[Sound: Nope. This sound is not lovely at all]

KG: New Zealanders are also extremely excited about Hoihos winning Bird of the Year — because it's the first time in 14 years of this competition that a seabird has been crowned. I know — they said it would never happen. The endangered yellow-eyed penguins were named for that distinctive, deeply sensual cry of seduction. Here it is one more time.

SOUNDCLIP

[Sound: Nope. This sound is not lovely at all]

KG: The sound of the Hoiho — our sound of the day.

[Music: Ambient]

Part three: Feature: The Long Take

Feature: The Long Take

KG: "He remembered every bar as a battlefield/ sodden with carnage,/ and the blurred ghosts of drinkers, their glasses emptying, filing, emptying;/ the dirt in each corner, dreams and despair." Those are a few lines from Scottish poet Robin Robertson's book The Long Take: A Noir Narrative — which was shortlisted for last year's Man Booker Prize. It's been described as a "verse novel" — because it walks the line between poetry and prose. And it does so by tracing the wanderings of a D-Day veteran by the name of Walker. Walker is from Inverness County, Cape Breton. It is 1946, and he's fresh back from the front and suffering from PTSD. He decides he can never return to his rural roots -- and instead hurtles toward the vague, elusive promise of America. Eventually, he settles in Los Angeles -- to the extent that he's capable of settling. The American Dream he's chased there is dead. L.A. is a husk of a city, swallowing itself in pursuit of progress and spitting out damaged and displaced souls. Amid the chaos and upheaval, Walker is increasingly transported to the height of his trauma: an unrenowned atrocity inflicted on his regiment, The North Nova Scotia Highlanders. Earlier this year, Robin Robertson joined Carol from a CBC studio in London, England. Here again is their conversation.

CO: Robin Robertson, welcome to “As It Happens”.

ROBIN ROBERTSON: Thank you.

CO: This story you tell — “The Long Take” — this is an extraordinary story to begin with, but all the more evocative because you tell the story in verse. And I know you're a poet. That makes sense. But how daunting was it to approach a narrative of this size and length — this scope — an epic, in fact, and to do it in verse.

RR: Well, I wish I could claim it were planned. I simply wanted to write a longer piece of work — a narrative of some sort. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, or how long it would take me, or how long the final book would be. So it was as much a surprise to me as it was to my publishers.

CO: The language is so rich, and after you settle into it, you can't imagine this being written any other way. Did you feel that there was no other way to create the images of America, of the war, of Cape Breton except to do it to verse?

RR: Well, by trade I'm a poet. So that's the way I write. Very dense and some would say costive or constipated.

CO: I wouldn't be one of them.

RR: So that's how I set out to write, but I realized with this book that for the first time I was dealing with quite alien territory — largely urban, and series of characters which needed to be developed, And a narrative that needed to go somewhere. So I realized subconsciously at some point that the kind of writing that I was going to be using would have to be a little bit more adaptable. So there is still the lyric poetry in this. Though it tends to be slightly more hidden, the narrative itself is told in broken lines, but it's quite a loose form of poetry. And most people who dislike poetry quite frankly say they haven't been put off by the way this has been written. And they say that well actually I completely forgot it was poetry after page three, which is perfect.

CO: There are reviewers who have compared “The Long Take” to Homer — to “The Iliad — not just because it's an epic poem, but because it's also about war, and the effects of war more than about the violence of war. But the effects of war on soldiers and the warriors who were part of it, and that's certainly in Homer's work — in “The Iliad” and “The Odyssey”. Men coming home, trying to find home again, what did you want your readers to understand about the effects of war?

RR: Well, I wanted, first of all, to have a character who had a psychic wound. And my central character, Walker, who is a Nova Scotian ex-veteran with post-traumatic stress disorder, has come back from the campaign and ending the Second World War. And he has been broken by it, and can't go home as you say. He can't go back to the Maritimes. He is completely shattered. And he wants to try and find some sense of community. And he does what many returning servicemen did, which was to go for the anonymity of the big city. So he starts in New York, and then Los Angeles, and then San Francisco, and then back to Los Angeles. And he's looking for some kind of peace, some kind of tranquility, some kind of the camaraderie that was the only thing that was decent about the war. So it does have some slightly epic scale. But I was interested also in looking at this particular time in North America, which seems to me fascinating. It's where the American dream kind of unspools and starts to fail, even though the USA was at that point at its most powerful economically and globally. But this is in a sense a pivotal moment historically and culturally. So that's why I set it when I did.

CO: Your character, Walker, who you say that’s his name and his nature, what is Walker looking for in America?

RR: Well, he's looking for a replacement to the home he once had in Cape Breton, which now feels to him like a strange istle at a perfect paradise. Having been through the traumas of war, having done and seen terrible things, he can't face the purity and the innocence of that landscape and the people in that landscape. So he's looking for anonymity, for repair, and as I say some kind of home. And he has to travel right across the United States in order to find that.

CO: He discovers a postwar United States yes, at its height of prosperity, but he is drawn to or perhaps has to find himself in the low life part of America from flap houses. But he also is intrigued with Hollywood movies, and of course, the long take and the whole film noir part of your poem — of your novel — is so key to that. He's looking through that prism of movies and black and white. What is the America he is traveling in? Can you describe how you see that landscape?

RR: Well, it's a place that had almost doubled its economy during the war years. And was full of migrant workers — all the cities were full of migrant workers. And all the Indigenous communities were being displaced. It was the beginning of kind of civic turmoil that has continued to this day. It was during the cult of the car. So in places like Los Angeles, most of the city centres were being pulled down so that they could build parking lots, or freeways, or whatever garages. It's a place of great transience. And there was no real room for people. This was a time when the corruption in the States was rife all the way through from top to bottom. And I wanted to address some of that. And film noir is effectively the art form of this period from the mid-40s to the late-50s. And it is timed very nicely with some of the best jazz, I think, that was ever made. So this is that's smoky after hours melancholy feel of the city at night.

CO: I was going to say that this is one of the few novels I've read where there's a soundtrack to it that you can't stop hearing in your head. The jazz, and the smoky bars, the sound of that — I mean it's ever present in this place. But Walker describes American cities have no past, no history. Sometimes I think the only American history is on film. And so he's drawn to that, isn't he? He's drawn to those stories. What is it he finds in the movies?

RR: He finds himself mirrored in these films. And I think that is where there is an autobiographical element because when I was growing up in Scotland, I would see these strange black and white films — usually at odd times of the day on television. And I just completely clicked with them. I didn't know why, but they said something to me. And I didn't know they had a name or anything. But when I moved down to London in the late-70s, these films were showing up in all the repertory cinemas. And it said film noir. So I went wow! that's what they're called. They spoke to me. Everything I felt was in those films — the excitement, the disorientation, vulnerability, the desire, the paranoia, the anonymity of the city. Film noir charts that world — sort of violent, incoherent, but fascinating world without any moral boundaries or social cohesion. And that's what urban America seems to have been like from all the books that I've read about during this period. It was frontier town.

CO: You're very detailed in your descriptions of the United States. The small details like the price of a television, or a shot of rye, or a freak snowstorm in L.A. in 1949, the murder of Emmett Till, historical moments small and large that are the backdrop for it. How did you immerse yourself in America not just now, but how did you immerse yourself in the time that you’re in in the 1940s and ‘50s?

RR: Well, I used the films as a beginning. I watched four-five hundred films for all kinds of reasons to get a sense of the language, the iconography, the style, but also the geography of the places that I was going to be writing about. I also read very widely. All the details that you mentioned, the prices of packs of cigarettes and shots of rye, they’re all accurate, and slavishly accurate — even down to the timetables of the buses and the train. Because you know if you believe that, and you should believe that, then you should believe everything that I'm saying. I can't have any flaws. I had it has to be exactly as it was. And so I introduce, as you say, political and cultural references. So that also gives you a sense of the movement of time because this book is all about time. It's about a man trying to recover from trauma and failing in a way. And he's watching us himself disintegrate and the cities he is trying to live in disintegrate around him.

CO: You're listening to “As It Happens”, and I am speaking with Robin Robertson about his noir narrative “The Long Take”. And he joined us from a studio in London. Your character Walker he gets a low-paid-job as a reporter in Los Angeles, and he begins to explore this city as you’ve described it as a place that has no memory — that's eating itself. And he wants to tell the stories of the destitute people he meets. And he has a key encounter — a person who becomes very important to him — named Billy Idaho. Can you tell us about Billy?

RR: Well, Billy he's kind of the father confessor, if you like. He’s somebody in a similar situation — a little older, black guy, a veteran who's been living on the streets for a while in downtown Los Angeles. And there is something that Walker has to confess, and he doesn't find himself able to confess it till the very end of the book — something that happened in France back in the war. But Billy is a kindred spirit. He's the man who shows him around downtown Los Angeles, who recommends a place to stay, and a job he might want to take. And so he sees his first and probably his only real friend during this book. And he doesn't meet a happy end either frankly.

CO: This is all taking place… most of it taking place in Bunker Hill. And though there is somebody different geographical places you take us, Bunker Hill is the map you put in the book. This is the most important piece of geography because everything comes together in Bunker Hill. Can you tell us what it was at that time and is now?

RR: Well, it doesn't exist anymore. As you say, the book's largely set in Los Angeles. And anybody who's been to that infernal city will know that it's just a never ending sprawl to see. During the late-40s/early-50s, downtown Los Angeles was being abandoned for the suburbs. And Bunker Hill, which was a once genteel and then rather shabby 130 acre community, which sat above downtown — quite high above — as being systematically cleared and demolished and lured by hundred feet in the end to accommodate as I suggested at the beginning a freeway system and a central business district. So the council decided let's get rid of all these houses and all these people. And this was some two thousand people just evicted and their homes were leveled. And then Bunker Hill was left. And so the reason I'm fascinated by Bunker Hill was that it was the backdrop for many of the most important film noir. It's attractive because all these films were made on the cheap — not in studios but out on the streets. And Bunker Hill was visually stunning because of its elevation, stairs, its tunnels, its angles, and drops, these rickety wooden mansions on top of it — perfect for nighttime location shooting. And it doesn't exist anymore. And it's the only territory I write about in this book that I haven't walked. You know I can walk through San Francisco as it was then, and New York as it was then, down the coast of Cape Breton, in through France, in London. All these places still exist in some form, but Bunker Hill has gone forever. So I ended up watching all these films in order to piece together the geography of these streets that I couldn't physically walk. So I would study these scenes and make the connections between one street which led to this corner. I know there's a bar on that corner. Sure enough, there was a bar because I've seen this in another film. So I drew the map of Bunker Hill from watching the films.

CO: And as he explores Bunker Hill, and as he sees the destruction of Los Angeles, where people are people live who are not important to the city as it's being destroyed, that's when he starts to perhaps not coincidentally to tell us what happened in the war. And the sound he says the sounds, the movement of war, a ballet of battle without the guns. That's just how he describes Los Angeles. The willful destruction — even the sound of it — reminds him of war. Why does that bring the war and the horrors of what happened to him in the war so clearly to his mind at that time?

RR: Well, all the way through the book — even from the first two or three pages — you see his PTSD being triggered by sudden noises, which is very typical, a car backfiring, something being dropped, a shout. He has to plug his ears during New Year's Eve celebrations because the fireworks remind him of bombardment. But once the demolition of downtown Los Angeles begins in earnest, which is towards the last fifth or sixth of the book, that is when the triggers of the noises of war start to really enter his brain conclusively. He can't get away from it. Everywhere he goes, another building is being pulled down. And so this allowed me to speed up the whole narrative process, and start introducing a lot more flashbacks to the war which chimed with the demolition of the houses. So the whole thing is happening both in real time and in historical time.

CO: This is “As It Happens” And I'm speaking with Robin Robertson from London where he is in the studio. We're talking about his book “The Long Take: A Noir Narrative”. Walker has we talked about went to war from Cape Breton. He was part of the North Nova Scotia Highlanders. He landed on the beaches of Normandy presumably. He was in what Canadian soldiers describe as “Hell's Corner”, when it came to D-Day. And he did witness hell, didn't he?

RR: Yes. I mean I I've read a fair bit about the Normandy campaigns and subsequent campaigns towards the end of the war — and particularly the history of the North Nova Scotia Highlanders. And there is a rather badly documented war atrocity, which I'm sure is known about in Canada, but certainly it was news to me. But nearly 200 Canadian prisoners of war from that regiment were killed by the Hitler Youth Panzer regiments. And so this sort of rather fell into my lap, and Walker became a part of that regiment.

CO: To describe that as a badly documented part of Canadian history is understatement. You say do you think Canadians know it. They don't actually. It's not well-known at all, and I thank you for reminding people to start exploring this. You're talking about the figure about eighty seven Canadian soldiers who were executed brutally at the hands of a crazed group of Nazi youth. But I wonder why you did choose a Cape Bretoner as the protagonist in your story? I mean why not someone from your own country? There are many soldiers traumatized by that war you could have chosen as your character.

RR: No, you're right. But I wanted very much the central character to be Canadian from the same land mass as the US, but an outsider. Just as I was an outsider moving from Scotland down here to England. And it's allows a certain distance, a certain angle to the inquiry. And also because I spent a year in Canada doing a master's degree with Alistair MacLeod — the great Cape Breton novelist and short story writer — so I had a fondness for the place before I even set foot on it.

CO: And you were with Alistair MacLeod in Windsor, yes? He was teaching there, and you were a teaching assistant for him in Windsor University, is that right?

RR: Yeah, I was a very, very poor teaching assistant for him. And he was also teaching me much more successfully in creative writing. And subsequently, when I became a publisher, I was lucky enough to publish his stories and his novel and then his son Alex publishing his stories.

CO: And Alex MacLeod was a reader for your book when you were making sure that you got everything right. Do you think you did? Do you think you do capture Cape Breton? Do you worry that you romanticize it. You said you're looking for a place that's pure. Do you think that you maybe romanticized it?

RR: Oh, I don't think it is pure. I think Walker imagines it in his head as being pure after having fought through Normandy and the low countries. Of course it isn't, but it's it represents the opposite of what he saw in the war. So he's a he's a broken man, very confused, and no, I'm not setting it out as paradise. But it is the antithesis of a combat zone.

CO: He keeps remembering Annie MacLeod, the girl he left behind. And he writes a few postcards to her from L.A. And it's not a coincidence I would imagine that her name is MacLeod. What influence did Alastair MacLeod have on you?

RR: He taught me to rein in my sort of slightly wild imagination, and fix it and in reality — test it against reality, and experience. And he was a very good teacher. He didn't shout. He talked very, very quietly, and just made me see what idiotic mistakes I was making.

CO: And fixing something and in reality I mean his great work “No Great Mischief”. His short stories certainly do that. Did you spend some time with him in Cape Breton?

RR: No, I never sat with him in Cape Breton unfortunately. I’ve been to his ancestral home there to look at what he saw from those cliffs, but I met him in Scotland and London and in Canada and in the States, but never in Cape Breton, not in Broad Cove unfortunately.

CO: But you certainly walked those hills. You describe many places very well, Lake Ainslie, and Broad Cove and the whole coast and all the places that he attends. So how much time did you get to spend in Cape Breton?

RR: Well, not as long as I would like. But again, I can't write about any place without walking it and seeing it and tasting it and getting some sense. But I was there for only five or six days. But it's only in that part of Cape Breton. I want to concentrate on that. But you know I ended up in a BandB, and the owner was a cousin of Alistair Macleod.

CO: Oh, big surprise.

RR: Yeah, quite small, small world.

CO: They're all related to each other, as you soon learn. I just want to return to United States — to America to conclude this interview, Robin. And looking at the parallels of your story with America today. It's not lost on the reader that the destruction of the cities, the indifference to the poor, but I think mostly the politics that you were describing in the late-1940s in this book in the early-1950s — the era of McCarthyism, the House Un-American Activities, the fear of foreigners, the fear of the other as it's described so well by the characters, including Walker in this story. How do you compare today's United States with the post-war years of your story?

RR: Well, I suspect that as I said the beginning of the interview that this is where the rot set in at this moment of high success and optimism. In 1946, America started to go wrong. It had got through the Depression, rise of totalitarianism, the war, and then suddenly it panics, and this deep paranoia comes into the culture. So the fear of communism, the fear of the bomb, the complete collapse of the cities, the inability to deal with the endemic racism in that country. It had just won the war, but it was so deeply traumatised by the conflict that all the moral certainties seem to founder. And there is you could argue a direct narrative line it goes from Second World War to Korea, to Vietnam, to Afghanistan, Iraq, and so on to the catastrophe that they currently face.

CO: There's one stanza in this describing what you're saying. We're back to circling the wagons. This is our fear of the other, Indians, blacks, Mexicans, communists, Muslims, whatever. America has to have its monsters, so we can zone them, segregate them, if possible shoot them. They call this patriotism, nativism, but it's racialism pure and simple, and paranoia. This is description of late-1940s America as you've written it, but that could be right now, couldn't it?

RR: I'm afraid so.

CO: Do you think the United States is durable enough to survive?

RR: Yes, I do. Yes, I do. I've traveled in the states since I was 20, and in Canada. I love both countries. There are many things that are fundamentally wrong with the US, but it still has extraordinary people and landscapes and cities. And this is a particularly disgraceful period in its history. But I mean we just came out of the Obama years which were very different. So it is a more liberal place than you would think from looking at from the outside.

CO: And so you see hope?

RR: A limited amount of hope, yes.

CO: Robin Robertson, I really appreciate speaking with you, and I thank you greatly for this work, “The Long Take: A Noir Narrative”. Thank you.

RR: Well, thank you for reading it so carefully.

CO: Bye bye.

RR: Bye.

KG: From January, Robin Robertson speaking with Carol about his novel, The Long Take: A Noir Narrative. It was published in Canada by Anansi Press.

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November 11, 2019 episode transcript

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