Posts Tagged ‘Kevin Major’
Blood Red Ochre by Kevin Major
Posted on: July 7, 2012
- In: Adventure | Eastern Canada | Grades 6-8 | Grades 9-11 | Historical | Realistic | Recent (1950-1999) | Romance
- 4 Comments
Kevin Major’s earliest novels typically portray the main character, always a teenage boy, in conflict with his family. Often the boy lives in a fishing village, which allowed Major to introduce Newfoundland culture to readers. In later books, such as Blood Red Ochre, Major began to directly infuse aspects of Newfoundland history, sometimes more successfully than others. The dilemma in doing such is whether one can expose readers to a world different from their own without confusing them. In Blood Red Ochre, despite some failings in style and one character portrayal, Major does a reasonable job of intertwining a story of Newfoundland’s indigenous Beothuk into a story about David, who falls for a new girl and fights with his step-dad.
As you can tell from the plot summary, if not for the Beothuk twist, Major is treading on familiar ground. Yet why not, when he does such an excellent job of portraying family conflicts and capturing teen boy emotions? I like the scene where David talks about how he and his mom rarely talk about school: “The school could burn to the ground, she joked, and she’d have to find out from someone else.” David then reflects on how once he had never thought of his mom in any other role than that of a parent, but now he is beginning to see that there is more to her life, including her reasons for not getting married to his father. In another great scene, David visits his dad for the first time. Often times, this kind of moment is portrayed in other media as highly dramatic, but Major shows it as awkward and almost mundane. To me, this seems more realistic, which is an adjective I would generally use to describe Major’s portrayal of relationships. Sometimes authors are so bent on constructing the plot in such a logical way that they forget life and people are not always rational. Major instead creates a scene where David cuts short a conversation with a friend for no reason other than a “rotten mood”. The last example I’ll mention is a scene in which David’s step-dad talks to David after David has visited his birth dad. David is surprised that the “old man” wants to settle their differences. “He never thought it would come to that.” And so now David has to rethink their relationship.
English: Imaginary picture of a beothuk camp, drawn by Major John Cartwright. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Alternating chapters focus on Dauoodaset, a fictional headstrong teenage Beothuk boy in love with Shanawdithit, the actual last known surviving Beothuk, who died in 1829 in her late twenties of tuberculosis. I suspect the reviewers (who seemed to be mostly Newfoundland students) were thinking mostly of these chapters when they faulted Blood Red Ochre for its boring plot. For some reason, despite telling David’s tale in third-person, Major decided to narrate Dauoodaset’s tale in first-person. I’m guessing because such a perspective would be more foreign to Major, the style is sometimes stilted and regrettably dull. And yet there were a few shining moments. When Dauoodaset returns to camp with two kills, “There has not been fresh meat in our camp for many days” and so “My father greets me with much smiling and even my mother loses her face of sorrow.” A hunter-thanking song is sung. Everyone is happy, but then the suggestion is made to play a dice game. That might have also been a time of merriment, except that Dauoodaset takes advantage of the moment to challenge the band leader for his arrows. The chapters which describe the bold move on Dauoodaset’s part to journey to the salt water to find food for the starving and weak band are taut with tension, as are those when white men shoot at and pursue Dauoodaset for cutting their fishing nets, which Dauoodaset interprets as robbing the Beothuk of food.
Interestingly, while negative reviews faulted Major most for his boring plot and surprise twist, I felt most off put by the portrayal of Nancy. David’s first impression of her is that she is different, foreign, and a bit mysterious. Major isn’t the first author, and probably won’t be the last, to introduce a character who is from a different time and place. However, perhaps because he doesn’t outright admit to this until near the end but rather just teases readers with clues about her eccentric behavior, Nancy never feels real. I wonder if perhaps her story might have been more successful if Major hadn’t tried to save it for a surprise. As for those clues, there are her strange responses to David’s questions: “I have learned not to waste time” and “I don’t have the time to spend with you if you’re interested in the marks” and “You keep your secrets and I’ll keep mine.” There are also her intensely negative reactions to horror movies and seeing a display of Beothuk at the museum. Finally, there is how weird her house is, being almost of freezing temperatures on the first floor and sauna-like atmosphere on the second floor. It’s unfortunate that she doesn’t feel more real, because Major does a wonderful job at portraying David’s dating jitters. I also love how true to adolescent relationships this description is: “When they reached the theater, she was still going on about what they might find and how impressed Dalton would be with their assignments. All David could think of was the two of them in a tent.”
As with Gaffer, which I reviewed earlier this week, Blood Red Ochre represents a creative way to convey historical events. To me, Blood Red Ochre will be far more accessible to average readers. Despite some flaws, it’s an engaging story. I’m eager to read more of Major’s books, to see what else I can learn about Newfoundland.
My rating? Read it: Borrow from your library or a friend. It’s worth your time.
How would you rate this book?
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Gaffer by Kevin Major
Posted on: July 4, 2012
While on the lookout again for literature about my home province of Newfoundland, Gaffer by Kevin Major intrigued me because the major character travels through five hundred years of Newfoundland history. One reviewer criticized Gaffer as lacking plot and character, being instead all about style and form. Moreover, the reviewer considered the main character to be undeveloped and unsympathetic. A kinder reviewer suggested that readers first avail themselves of Newfoundland and Labrador history so that they might have the background to understand Gaffer. While I agree with all of these criticisms, I still found Gaffer an interesting read.
Let me first consider the style. Admittedly, some of it is overwritten. Here are just a couple of examples that made me pause: “amphibious pup in the heaving surf” and “grieving lunge of his flaccid limbs”. Yet one thing I have learned is that writing is all about balance. So, while sometimes Major could have simplified his phrases, other times he proves himself a master at description. Here is Major’s portrayal of Gaffer’s grandmother: “She was a gabby beef bucket of a woman. The lard of her upper arms jangled when she walked; her ankles inflated her shoes….” Is there any doubt that Gaffer’s grandmother is oversized? Here is how Major depicts Gaffer’s uncle’s shed: “The shed became his place of convalescence, his refuge. The smell his oxygen, the sights a balm for his wounds. He rigged up a hammock with fishnet, cushioned it with oilcloth. He ate hardtack and drank from dirty brown bottles of homebrew.” Is there any doubt how much the shed means to Gaffer? Can’t you just see it?
Next up for consideration is the main character of Gaffer. Despite the deceptive first scene which shows Gaffer as a misfit trying to deal with his dad’s death, much of the book does put the main character at a distance from other characters and ultimately Major’s readers. Gaffer never stops being angry, which might seem natural for a teenager who has lost his dad in an offshore oil rig accident, but he also seems to think himself better than everyone else except perhaps his family. In some form or another, he always acts distrustful and defiant. Initially, this off put me. When I decided to view Gaffer as a larger-than-life character, I felt more accepting of his almost constant hostility. What enabled me to view Gaffer more as a symbol than an everyday character is some of the unusual plot twists. For example, Gaffer talks to goats and cod. Given that this doesn’t happen in routine life, I allowed myself to view Major’s tale more as a fable, and at that point I began to like it.
The Beothuk tribe of Newfoundland is extinct. It is represented in museum, historical and archaeological records. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Last, there is the suggestion that readers will lack the background to understand the trips back and forth through Newfoundland’s history. In all honesty, this thought is the one which most ran through my mind. Gaffer travels as far back as 1497, when supposedly John Cabot discovered Newfoundland. He drops in on the our indigenous people, the Beothuk, in 1614, and feels the agony of knowing one day they’ll face their extinction. He lingers in 1787 when fishermen were under merchant rule. He zips ahead to 1977, when Brigette Bardott protested the seal hunt, from which thousands of Newfoundlanders used to earn their livelihood. True to the mythological form of the book, Gaffer even visits his dying cove twice in the future. In one of the most chilling chapters, Gaffer discovers his hometown has been turned into a preserve, where now former residents make their livelihood by displaying relics of an extinct community to world travelers. In a few chapters Major had even me, a native Newfoundlander, trying to decipher the historical context of events. However, I still felt his passion for Newfoundland in every page along with the outrage he seems to feel over the loss of some of Newfoundland’s more unique ways of life. Because of my obvious familiarity with Newfoundland and its history, It’s difficult for me to determine if the average reader will be able to look past the historical events to immerse themselves in a tale of a community on the verge of a collapse.
Because I suspect this will be the largest stumbling block to Gaffer, I abandoned my normal practice of not reading criticisms of a book I intend to review. To my surprise, there were very few reviews posted and most were lukewarm to negative. While I much prefer Major’s earlier novels such as Hold Fast, I still felt myself emotionally drawn into Gaffer. Newfoundlanders should read it. Everyone else, let me know what you think.
My rating? Read it: Borrow from your library or a friend. It’s worth your time.
How would you rate this book?









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