Everyone knows a guy like Jared: the burnout kid in high school who sells weed cookies and has a scary mom who’s often wasted and wielding some kind of weapon. Jared does smoke and drink too much, and he does make the best cookies in town, and his mom is a mess, but he’s also a kid who has an immense capacity for compassion and an impulse to watch over people more than twice his age, and he can’t rely on anyone for consistent love and support, except for his flatulent pit bull, Baby Killer (he calls her Baby)–and now she’s dead.
Jared can’t count on his mom to stay sober and stick around to take care of him. He can’t rely on his dad to pay the bills and support his new wife and step-daughter. Jared is only sixteen but feels like he is the one who must stabilize his family’s life, even look out for his elderly neighbours. But he struggles to keep everything afloat…and sometimes he blacks out. And he puzzles over why his maternal grandmother has never liked him, why she says he’s the son of a trickster, that he isn’t human. Mind you, ravens speak to him–even when he’s not stoned.
You think you know Jared, but you don’t.
I received a copy from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for my honest opinion.
- My thoughts on Son of a Trickster mostly focus on the perils of basing expectations for one book on another book.
- Two things drew me to this book: Eden Robinson (Haisla First Nation author) + magical realism. I previously read and enjoyed Robinson’s Monkey Beach. Son of a Trickster stars teenage boy Jared, who differs greatly from Monkey Beach’s adult woman Lisa (what an astute observation, Jenna). I didn’t realize how much my enjoyment of Monkey Beach depended on Lisa until I started Son of a Trickster. Jared is a great character but not one with which I personally connect.
- When I read Monkey Beach, I did not anticipate any magical realism. Only when I finished the book and participated in a group discussion did the term come up to describe the story. I personally wouldn’t have described the book as magical realism, although technically that’s what it was (to me it was a lot more real than magical). I only remembered all this when I looked back on my review a few minutes ago. 😛 In contrast, I had high expectations for the magical realism in Son of a Trickster. I lifted expectations for Son of a Trickster from Monkey Beach without considering the obvious differences between the books.
- The jacket description above describes spot-on the content of Son of a Trickster. It’s my bad for expecting more magical realism in this tale. A virtual footnote in the summary translates to a relatively minor role in the story. Jared’s ‘magical’ abilities start to have a serious impact on the story about two thirds of the way in. I liked exploring particular Indigenous beliefs and culture through Jared’s eyes, as he learns bit by bit about what he can see and about his family’s background (Jared is “part ‘Namgis, part Heiltsuk”). I would definitely describe Son of a Trickster as magical realism, in a way that I wouldn’t describe Monkey Beach. But Jared’s story is really about family relationships. The ‘magic’ is just a means to explore that topic. And I suppose that’s generally how you might describe magical realism (you could argue Monkey Beach is the same way), but I’m always hoping the magical elements will be more of a focus. Honestly, as I type this out, I can imagine someone who’s read this book being aghast and saying the magic plays a lot more significant role, but that’s how it felt to me. I have the impression that the next books in the trilogy will delve more into Jared’s family background and abilities. Son of a Trickster does have something of an introductory story line vibe to it.
- To summarize, Son of a Trickster did not match my misguided expectations, but it is by no means a poor book. Here are some reasons you might enjoy it:
- Jared is an engaging main character. I kept reading because I wanted to know what he would do next. He really is just a kid trying to make do with an awful situation. Like the description says, he “has an immense capacity for compassion”. Most of the adults around him are disasters, often causing me to grit my teeth and roll my eyes (ugh, his Mom). He’s not an angel, but despite his poor circumstances, Jared remains a good kid, guided by good intentions. There are some moving moments in the story where I found myself thinking, “Geez, he really is just a 16 year old kid” despite the partying, drinking, etc. he gets into. If you love reading about dysfunctional families – you will love this book.
- My favourite strength of Robinson’s is her ability to created vivid and believable settings. She does an excellent job of translating her personal experience and knowledge of real world places onto the page. (Son of a Trickster is set in her hometown of Kitimaat, in northern British Columbia, with many scenes also taking place on the nearby reserve).
- The book contains many specific cultural references, so much so that you can easily pin down the time period of the story. Examples include Idle No More protests, songs such as Red Skin Girl and Like A G6, and debates over the best Doctor in Doctor Who. The text message exchanges between Jared and various characters felt real, not constructed. Sometimes specific references irk me. In this case, I found they added realism to the story.
- The Bottom Line: Overall, this book is a solid addition to the field of Indigenous literature. The representation of Indigenous youth like Jared and his friends is something the field could always use more of. The magical realism aspect of the story adds another layer of culture and intrigue to something that might read too bleak. Recommended for fans of Indigenous literature, dysfunctional families, or kids trying to do their best they know how. I’d also recommend this for teens -there’s a lot for them to enjoy here.
Would you consider this book to be #ownvoices?
Your review has left me quite intrigued by the story. The blurb says something about a river otter and I am such a fan of otters. I might be getting this (not just because of the otter).
Good question! I did shelve it as own-voices on Goodreads because the author writes within her own culture (Heiltsuk, living in northern BC). However, I did wonder how much something has to be “own voices” before being labelled thus – obviously Robinson isn’t a young boy growing up in poverty (I don’t know whether her youth was similar).
The otters take on a pretty different role from how I usually think of them, haha. I hope you do check out and enjoy this book!
Sounds like #ownvoices for me.
The otters actually play a role in the story? I did not expect that. I am totally getting this book!