Review for Truth & Bright Water by Thomas King: Soldier on, Soldier!

How to begin to describe a literary masterpiece like Thomas King’s Truth & Bright Water? Where do I, a lowly settler scholar from Ottawa, fit into this incredibly beautiful, rich, layered, and heart-wrenching tale about two cousins, a dog, and a summer that straddles the enforced boundaries of two countries and one Indigenous nation? Well, I suppose I could begin with an advocation: please read this book.

It begins, as all narratives do, right in the middle of things. Tecumseh, a fifteen-year-old boy, and his older cousin, Lum, quite literally begin their narrative in a place that links two places together: a bridge. Said bridge, a dilapidated and dangerous forgotten project clearly representative of a broken connection, is supposed to join the Montana town of Truth to the residence of Bright Water in Alberta. From there, the central story line follows the two boys on their mission to understand what they saw on the bridge that night: a strange woman, dancing freely, throwing the contents of her suitcase, and then herself, into the river. Later that same night, Tecumseh and Lum find a human skull, with a red ribbon wrapped through its eye sockets, on the riverbed. They then return to discover that the car the woman drove onto the bridge has disappeared. Why does she come to the bridge? Did the skull come from that suitcase? Whose skull is it? What is the woman’s identity? What is her story? Did she survive? How are the two boys to solve this mystery? I shall reveal no more but assure you that amidst a story brimmed with unanswered questions, these, at the very least, are some of the ones to be answered.

More than intriguing plot lines, however, King’s characters are some of the most complex and beautifully candid ones I have read in some time. Extremely striking is how he made Tecumseh’s dog, Soldier, into a fully-fledged character that even seems to speak at different occasions with access to knowledge that we mere humans will never understand or even be privy to. He will certainly become your favourite character. I’m even speaking to you, cat people.

On a more serious note, I use the words candid to describe King’s characters because of the realities King infuses into them. Although the Nation is never mentioned by name, King tells the story of the Blackfoot, or Siksikaitsitapi Nation through these characters. With his effortless additions of Blackfoot culture to the narrative, he also illustrates the trauma that can be connected to different Indigenous communities who have a fraught history of colonial imposition. He does this through different characters that have serious issues, like alcoholism or mental illness. So, for that reason, it can be a little heavy to read at points (and let this suffice as a trigger warning), but nonetheless vastly important. So soldier on, soldier! It’s worth it, I promise.

There are so many valuable lessons to be learned through this narrative about international Indigenous communities across Turtle Island. Through characters like Monroe Swimmer (who consistently brings subversion and an eclectic flare to the novel), settler audiences, like myself, can grow to be more understanding and open to learning.

More than this, however, this is a novel that is thoroughly engaging and beautiful. King’s diction puts you right on to the prairies, a place I never thought I’d want to visit. You can see the colours of the sky and the majesty of the buffalo. You can smell the cooking that Tecumseh’s grandmother and mother do throughout. Most of all, though, you can feel everything, deeply.

Now, I’ve done my research and have unearthed the fact that I am supposedly required to give ratings to the works I review. Although I feel outrageously unqualified to do this, I will reluctantly follow these rules for the success of this blog.

This novel, for myself, ranks a solid four out of five. One star removed only because there are a few books I have read, to date, that have changed my life in ways this did not. Nonetheless, I leave you where I began: please, please read this book!