October 26, 1998

Over The Edge Page 3

Thomas King: Profile of a Writer

by Bruce Arthur

Thomas King should feel
as if he’s on top of the
world. He's considered
one of the greatest living
Native writers in
Canada, he’s comfort-
ably ensconced as a
professor at the
University of Guelph,
and his radio show, The
Dead Dog Cafe Comedy
Hour, is one of the most
successful programs to
hit the CBC in years.
Instead, King is just
tired. "The hits just keep
on coming,” he sighs.
That allusion to radio
disc jockeys could refer
to an unlikely radio
career which is heading
into its third season. Or
to his writing. Or even
his photography. All his
life, Tom King has been
a can-do guy. No matter
what people asked him
to do, Tom could do it. Or
so he claimed. "| always
said that, all my life” he
laughs. “! was a great
liar to myself. Always
kidding myself.
Somebody would say
‘Who can do this?’-I can
do it!’ "Well, it turns out
that he wasn’t kidding.
King can do it. Whatever
it is. At UBC as part of a
distinguished __ visiting
scholar lecture series,
Tom King always has a
lot to do. The Dead Dog
Cafe, with its closing
edict of “Stay calm. Be
brave. Wait for the
signs,” will broadcast 21
episodes this season.
And as the show’s popu-
larity just keeps spi-
ralling up, King can't fig-
ure out why. "We started
out as a lark! | still don't
know how it happened,”
he laughs. “I don’t think
anybody does.” King
writes and stars in the fif-
teen minute show which
runs once a week on
CBC Radio One's This
Morning. And while his
own acting skills are, by
his own admission, less
than sparkling, the Dead
Dog Cafe is a genuine
phenomenon. "I am the
world's worst actor,” he
says with another laugh

that comes from deep
inside his sturdy six foot-
four frame. “I just love
doing it, that’s all.” The
Cafe stars King as him-
self, and takes place in
the Cafe in Blossom,
Alberta-the setting for
his landmark novel
Green Grass,
RunningWater-along
with the genial Jasper
Friendlybear and the
deadpan Gracie Heavy
hand. King, who is the
straight man to Jasper
and Gracie's wild cards,
wanted the show to be
entertaining. But he also
wanted to make a state-
ment. “l wanted to make
it Native, | wanted to
make it funny, and |
wanted to make it polliti-
cal if | could. | also want-
ed to make it sort of
bozoish.” Dead Dog
Cafe is all those things.
They hand out authentic
Indian names to lucky
listeners
(“Hairy...Body...Parts!”),
give Traditional
Aboriginal Decorating
Tips (car bodies and
dogs for reserves were
two popular sugges-
tions), and offer up
Reserve Recipes (“peo-
ple said you can’t kill a
dog on live radio,” says
King).The show suc-
cessfully blends a strong
political bent with cheer-
ful irreverence. Which is
how King likes it.”I’ve
only got 15 minutes, and
| can’t get too profound.
But maybe | can get
people thinking, and if |
can get them thinking,
great. "To King, one of
the strengths of The
Dead Dog Cafe is that is
allows him to say what
he wants without getting
atop a soapbox. "No one
wants to see me on the
editorial page complain-
ing about what | don't
like. For instance, am |
worned that big banks
are just going to run over
the Canadian public?
Yes | am. Or the Royal
Commission on
Aboriginal People-the
government reacted to

none of the recommen-
dations, yet they spent
all this time and all this
money. You'd — think
they’d have some inter-
est in it. "The show is still
sharply political, though.
Royal Commission
Report recommenda-
tions are read aloud by
Jasper. Road blockade
reports are happily
encouraged. The show
keeps a light tone, but
skewers its targets with-
deadly accuracy. And

King, who is referred to
as “the white Indian” by
Jasper and Gracie, is
often the one with the
bulls-eye on his fore-

head. "When Jasper
says, ‘You’re much bet-
ter off than we are,’ and |
say, ‘Well, I'm not that
better off,’ he says, ‘You
get a tax return?” He
pauses. “Well, everyone
gets a tax return.’ And
he says ‘I didn’t get a tax
return. Gracie, you get a
tax return?’ It's only right
that I'm the butt of the
jokes.” King, whose
father was Cherokee
and whose mother was
of Greek and German
descent, says he realis-
es that there were
Natives who grew up off
the reserve who had it
worse than he did; he
has never lived on a
reserve, largely owing to
the fact that Cherokees
don’t have reserves in
Canada anymore. And
in his childhood, though
“pretty decent,” was
poor. That imprint of

poverty has stayed with
King his entire life.”You
don’t recover from those
things, they don't go
away. There’s no nobility
to poverty. There’s just
poverty. But I’ve been
able to manage it, partly
because I've been suc-
cessful. If you don’t think
you're worth a whole hell
of a lot, it's better if
you've got five dollars in
your pocket. | don’t think
poverty is much good for
anything except makin’

you sad.” King is a man
with firm opinions, but
wants nothing of the role
of spokesman for
Canadian aboriginal
people. He can speak
for himself, but won’t do
it for other Natives. He
has been approached to
speak on national Native
issues, but most often
says no. He says he
doesn’t know enough
about the issues. He'll
only opine about the
Nisga’a treaty in a gen-
eral way, the tribes can
speak for themselves,
he says. "| worry about
new treaties being struck
rather than old treaties
being honoured-it’s
always a compromise,
it's Natives who make
the compromise. If the
Lakota ever got to the
point where they could
negotiate the Black Hills
Treaty with the govern-
ment, and say we have a
treaty that gave us the
Black Hills, so why don’t
you give us the Black
Hills. And the govern-

ment would say no way.”
King is also concerned
about David Black’s
edict to the 60 newspa-
pers he owns in BC not
to write any pro-Nisga’a
deal! editorials. King says
he accepts that Black
can do it so long as he
doesn’t care about a free
press. But King also
believes that the press
was never that free to
begin with. "I think we
live under a lot of illu-
sions,” he says slowly.
“The illusion that we
really do live in a partici-
patory democracy, the
illusion that the press is
free, corporate citizens
are good citizens, capi-
talism works and every-
body's happy.” King also
knows that Black’s anti-
Nisga’a stance will affect
more than just the edito-
rial page. "| was a photo-
journalist in Australia
and New Zealand for a
number of years, and |
know full well that when
the editor comes down
and says, ‘We don’t want
any of this Indian-lovin’
shit in the paper,’ you
know.” But photojournal-
ism, radio, and acting
aside, Tom King is,
above all, a writer. But
always a Native writer.
His tag as ‘One of

Canada’s greatest living
Native writers’ rather
than simply one of
Canada’s greatest living
writers, doesn’t bother
him. "I don’t mind. Am |
Native first or a writer
first? | can’t get away
from being Native, you
could think that | wasn’t
a writer. | just want to be
living.” He laughs that
deep laugh before
becoming serious again.
“If you line me up
against Atwood, or
Ondaatje, or Robertson
Davies, or WO
Mitchell...| think | write
every bit as well as any
of those do. What they
have that | don’t is a
body of work. | can only
produce a novel every 4
or 5 years.” King doesn't
know what he’ll do next.
The radio show won't
last more than four or
five years, he thinks, and
his job at the University
of Guelph is stable. But
he'll continue to write,
he’d like to return to seri-
ous photography, and
would like to try his hand
at directing. Wherever
Tom King decides to go,
you can be sure that it'll
be worth watching. And
whatever he takes on,
he can do it. Just ask
him.

UNBC RUGBY

FOOTBALL CLUB

Pi Se

bss S ately J ee ee
PROUDLY PRESENTS THE 2ND
ANNUAL
HALLOWEEN PARTY
October 31

tickets on sale in the Wintergarden
starting Monday, October 26

This Space Donated By NUGSS