Cynthia Sugars. Canadian Gothic: Literature, History, and the Spectre of Self-Invention.
Kertzer, Jon
Cynthia Sugars. Canadian Gothic: Literature, History, and the
Spectre of Self-Invention. Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 2014. xii
+ 291 pp. $150.
Canada is a haunted house. Cynthia Sugars argues in Canadian Gothic
that Gothic has been a congenial mode for English-Canadian authors
because its vision is so uncongenial; that is, its grotesque forms
express the anxious historiography of a settler culture that has never
felt quite at home in the land it settled. With an eye for paradox, she
calls Canada an unhomely home, whose "settled unsettlement"
(166) has been evoked over the years in Gothic styles that treat
literature as a kind of exorcism-a "spectre of self-invention"
according to her subtitle. Canadian writers articulate a "national
uncanny" (73), a sensibility seeking national authen ticity from a
past that promises legitimacy, only to produce monsters and ghosts.
Gothic forms are perversely congenial because they summon, but promptly
confound, the polarities by which European settlers justified their
conquest of America such as primitive-modern, supernatural-natural,
wild-civilized, body-mind, female-male. Sugars teases out these
conflations to show how they have provoked an anxious national
narrative. Being anxious is a good thing, however, because according to
Freud, who also haunts these pages, anxiety is humanity's defining
neurosis: we are all wonderfully twisted beings. Because the Gothic is
both wonderful and twisted, it is just what the doctor ordered.
Applying Freud's model of loss and reward, Sugars detects a
"fort-da dynamic in Canadian literature" (6) by which the
spectre of nationality is simultaneously invoked and rejected, sought
only to vanish. This frustrating fate does not prevent her from
designing an orderly history of Gothic manifestations, from first
encounters with an inhospitable land to the latest multicultural
confusions. As co-editor of Penguin's bulky Canadian Literature in
English, she is well acquainted with the scope of Canadian letters and
is admirable in studying the nineteenth century, when romance was a
dominant mode. She focuses on fiction, somewhat less on poetry, and less
still on drama. It is revealing, although what it reveals is not
explored, that drama is especially important in modern Native writing.
Each of the seven chapters defines a Gothic style in accordance with the
cultural climate of a period defined by that style. Taken in sequence,
they compose a Gothic tale of their own, as the spectral is in turn
projected, rejected, respected, invited, domesticated, reinvigorated,
and embraced-fort-da. The chapters investigate:
1. first contact with an alien wilderness inhabited by alien people
2. the felt absence of a national ghost in a colonial outpost:
"a haunt ing by an absence of haunting" (15)
3. the fondness of early English writers to dress up Quebec in
Gothic garb
4. defamiliarizing the uncanny through a "double negative
effect" that makes it "un-uncanny" (109), that is,
companionable
5. a postcolonial Gothic of atonement and restoration surfacing in
the 1960s and 1970s
6. the "meta-haunting" (180) of Gothic ethnicity
7. indigenous Gothic
Each stage is illustrated by examining the unsettling ideological
effects of suitable texts. Here, the breadth of Sugars's expertise
is especially useful and her analysis is adept. The fact that Canadian
Gothic is a volume in "Gothic Literary Studies," an
international series published in Wales, may explain why readers are
also given patient guidance and plot summaries.
As my list of themes shows, there is no literary motive that cannot
be gothicized, that is, read as contemplating its own insufficiency,
exclusion, or erasure. An air of frustration pervades Canadian literary
history from pioneers like Susanna Moodie, haunted by the impoverished
imagination of Upper Canada (60), to contemporary ethnic writers, rudely
confined by the term "ethnic" to a spectral liminality, where
they appear oxymoronically as familiar strangers (180) or an unseen
visible minority. In sum, Canadian Gothic uses its ghostly repertoire to
trace an anti-essentialist current in English-Canadian literature,
ensuring that any imaginative effort to locate an origin of national
destiny will only release another phantom. If read critically, even the
most sincere, civil novel, such as Hugh MacLennan's Two Solitudes,
will reveal a Gothic tinge, as indeed it does. But this, too, is a good
thing, as if the peculiarities of Canadian history and geography have
made us--as Robert Kroetsch once remarked mischievously--despite our
earnest efforts to remain Victorian, always already postmodern.
Nevertheless, Sugars's disciplined literary genealogy cannot
entirely avoid the temptation to capture a ghost or two. The works
examined are chosen not only because they are suitably Gothic but
because they offer the keenest insights into their historical period.
They are Gothic in the right way at the right time, their literary merit
bound up with their ideological value. In effect, they form a literary
canon leading back to the originary moment in her own theory: the brutal
injustice of colonial conquest. This occurred not at some legendary
instant but, as the abuse in residential schools shows, as a repeated
event. Its violence continues to haunt and invigorate English-Canadian
literature by acting like a nagging conscience, demanding recognition
and restitution, although literary restitution must take the form of
another story. Sometimes Sugars discusses this demand as a Freudian
return of the repressed applied culturally, sometimes as lingering guilt
or just as a sense of unfinished business. I do not mean that her
argument is too deterministic or moralistic. It is far more
sophisticated than that, but a sense of fatality drawn from the Gothic
tradition does infiltrate her own analysis. In a romantic view, of which
the Gothic is an extreme example, literature serves as the voice of a
nation; in Sugars's account, it sometimes sounds like a national
nightmare provoked by a guilty historical conscience.
These issues are played out most visibly in the final study,
"Indigenous Ghost-Dancing: At Home on Native Land," because
here Sugars is obliged to be cautious. Gothic plots, settings, and
characters were all imported from Europe and applied crudely to Native
inhabitants, whether they were portrayed as savages or as nature's
gentlemen, as superstitious pagans or as spiritually attuned to the
land. To speak of indigenous Gothic, even with the best intention, is to
risk casting it in a hostile idiom. Native writers do not need to summon
the elusive ghost of national identity; they have other problems.
Especially risky is the treatment of Native spirituality, which too
often has been either "pathologized as psychically
maladjusted" (218) or prescribed as romantic therapy for settler
guilt (as in the film Dances with Wolves). Sugars is careful to avoid
these dangers, guided by writers like Tomson Highway, Eden Robinson, and
Thomas King, who dispel Gothic conventions through parody or expel them
by invoking local spirits like Nanabush, Coyote, and Windigo. Guided by
these skilful authors, Sugars follows the example of explorers like
Samuel Hearne and David Thompson, who trusted Natives to lead them
through the wilderness and to establish a bond with the land.
Jon Kertzer
University of Calgary