Barkskins
Annie Proulx
[Scribner]
Annie Proulx, at 80 years of age, can certainly not be faulted for effort. Her new novel, Barkskins, encompasses 300 years of colonial history and its effects over 700-odd pages. The stories of Frenchmen René Sel and Charles Duquet, who emigrate to present-day Canada to seek their fortunes in the timber trade, prove to have marked consequences for their descendants as their stories unfurl. Sel’s dynasty, mixed with Mi’kmaq natives, appears to have a more troubled legacy than the readily Americanised “Duke” clan.
In this age of instant gratification, fat novels about big themes should be applauded, for ambition and trust in the reader if for nothing else. Proulx’s prose sometimes sparkles, particularly in the visceral French colonisation scenes early in the book. However, her tendency to pepper the text with lengthy explanations of facts, figures and historical events – ostensibly for the reader’s benefit – is also laudable, but conducive neither to character development nor to narrative movement. In addition, Proulx’s Native Americans often fail to move past stereotypes of crude broken English and talk of the white man’s evil. The conservationist, 21st-century conclusion, though well meaning, ultimately fails to justify the book’s length and complexity. Barkskins aims high, but in covering so much, Proulx creates a rod – or rather, a bark – for her own back.
Words: Stephen Cox
