3 Canadian authors reflect on the life and legacy of Harold R. Johnson and the power of stories
Q&A | CBC Radio | Posted: November 10, 2022 8:31 PM | Last Updated: November 10, 2022
Harold R. Johnson's final book is The Power of Story
Harold R. Johnson, the son of a Cree mother and Swedish immigrant father, was an influential voice among Indigenous writers in Canada. The late Johnson did many things in his life: trapping, a stint in the Navy, logging, mining. Later, he became a lawyer and writer. He wrote fiction and nonfiction books that both enthralled and defied genre categorization.
Johnson died on Feb. 9, 2022 at the age of 68.
Johnson's final book, The Power of Story, reflects on the power of storytelling — from personal narratives to historical sagas — as they relate to humanity and even how humans structure societies. In the posthumous nonfiction work, he makes a case for how stories can shape and change our lives for the better.
Brian Thomas Isaac is the author of the novel All the Quiet Places; Marsha Lederman is the author of a memoir called Kiss The Red Stairs; and David A. Robertson is the author most recently of his first novel for adults, The Theory of Crows.
On location at the Vancouver Writers Festival, Shelagh Rogers spoke with the three writers about Johnson's final work — and the power of story in their own lives and writing.
Shelagh Rogers: The three books that we're talking about this evening put a lot of emphasis on your relationship with grandparents. Can you talk about the importance of those relationships?
Brian Thomas Isaac: The grandmother in All the Quiet Places was modelled after my grandmother. She was tough as nails and she had six girls and six boys. And she never took a backseat to anyone. But she was great to be with for me, and she was a lot more demonstrative than my mother was.
She was just great to be around and laughed a lot and we got along great. I was lucky.
Marsha Lederman: I grew up without grandparents. I didn't even know about grandparents until I made a friend and she had these older people who came over and pinched her cheek and were warm and sweet and gave her gifts and all of the stuff that I wasn't getting.
They were also the oldest people I'd ever known, because my parents' circle were Holocaust survivors and they didn't have any parents who survived.
These stories came at me in bits and pieces and I pieced those stories together to try to come up with the story of who they were — the big story. - Marsha Lederman
So one day I just innocently went home and said to my mother, "Well, Pearl has grandparents, why don't I?"
And I obviously blindsided her with this question. She was not prepared for it and her answer was far too honest and probably damaging. She was an amazing parent. She was just lovely, but she didn't know better, in terms of how to tell this story.
We're talking about story today. The way I learned about my parents' histories was through story. These stories came at me in bits and pieces and I pieced those stories together to try to come up with the story of who they were — the big story.
David A. Robertson: The grandfather in The Theory of Crows is a very thinly-veiled version of my father and he's an anchor to the father, Matthew, and to his daughter, Hallelujah. He's the place they go to seek calm and to receive calm. My dad was the same way. He had that presence to him.
So the grandfather has that quality to him as well. And then I think when he's gone, the question becomes, "Where do we find that calm?" Where does that calm come from again, and how does it live within us? Does it flow through the land? Does it move through the swift water? I think that's part of the journey. It's more than just finding the trapline. It's finding that spiritual connection.
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Shelagh Rogers: Brian, the character Eddie in All the Quiet Places is a real observer. I sense that you're also a real observer?
Brian Thomas Isaac: Yeah, when I was young, I noticed everything. I think being hyper-vigilant and traumatized, you tend to watch out more.
Shelagh Rogers: Marsha, you're nodding.
Marsha Lederman: Hyper-vigilance. Yes, that's my curse and my gift. I'm constantly on the lookout. I'm an observer by trade; I'm a reporter. I observe, and then I write it down. It's great for a career. But my book is very much about intergenerational trauma and how I believe I've been affected by the trauma that my parents experienced.
And one of the symptoms, I guess, of that is hyper-vigilance, always on the lookout for someone who's done me wrong, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Good things don't happen to me, or at least without something terrible happening afterward.
My book is very much about intergenerational trauma and how I believe I've been affected by the trauma that my parents experienced. - Marsha Lederman
It really is a hard way to live. That's why I took so much from Harold's saying that you write the story, you're in control of your story. That doesn't have to be my story. My story can be something else and I can still be observant and I can still be hyper-vigilant, but it can be a good thing. So I'm working on it. I'm a work in progress.
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David A. Robertson: As a writer, as a storyteller, I feel like that's part of the makeup of our DNA is to observe the world around us and to notice things. I was also thinking about how even my memoir, to my brothers, is a lie. And that's something that Harold was saying as well.
My father isn't the same father my brother had. My stories of my father, my relationship with my father and how close we were — that father to them, doesn't exist.
The journey that we're on in this life is to completely rewrite our story as we go along and try to author something better within ourselves in the stories that we create. - David A. Robertson
They have a completely different father because their story of him is different. And the story that I think they would write, if they were writing their own memoir, would have a completely different dad.
I was thinking a lot about that and then connecting that to how we tell our stories and how the journey that we're on in this life is to completely rewrite our story as we go along and try to author something better within ourselves in the stories that we create.
Shelagh Rogers: Can the three of you share some of Harold R. Johnson's words from The Power of Story that resonate with you?
Marsha Lederman: This very short paragraph from Harold's book really, really spoke to me.
"If you tell yourself a victim story, your life story is defined by that status. You are a victim in the victimized story. Something was done to you. It happened to you, but it is not who you are. You are still in charge of that. You can tell your own story."
David A. Robertson: This is the one I love from Harold here:
"This connection to the land is far more than a mere emotional or intellectual attachment. It's not a simple preference. It's something far deeper than that. It is a spiritual connection. It's a connection to one's ancestors, a connection to the life forces, a connection to the great spirit and to creation."
Brian Thomas Isaac: "Do you know how to visit? I mean real visiting, it's a lost art in many places. Maybe it's because visiting is storytelling and storytelling is becoming a lost art. I know only a few who are good at visiting and it's a pleasure to be with them. They understand story structure and story cadence."
Shelagh Rogers: What role does humour play in the way you tell your stories?
Marsha Lederman: Jews have dealt with their persecution with a lot of humour over the years, and it's how I deal with everything. The book is very much a reflection of who I am, told very much in my voice, including jokes.
Brian Thomas Isaac: Yes, it's almost the same with First Nations people, pretty well. Out of the horrible stuff, you've got to find some kind of humour.
If two non-First Nations people are walking down the street and one falls, the other one would say, 'Are you ok?' If two First Nations people are walking down the street and one of them falls, the other one just laughs their head off. That's First Nations humour.
David A. Robertson: We're good at that as Indigenous people like us. I mean, even in the most traumatic stories, we always find humour because I feel like it's like healing.
It helps us to cope as well with the things that we've experienced and gone through or that our ancestors or grandparents have gone through.
It's important to bring humour into these stories, because I think it's a bit of a breath. But it's also that laughing is healing. It's all part of that journey towards healing. - David A. Robertson
So it's important to bring humour into these stories, because I think it's a bit of a breath. But it's also that laughing is healing. It's all part of that journey towards healing.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.