Dec. 16, 2009 - Issue #739: Melissa AdM

SEAL INTESTINE RAINCOAT: Snowed in

Rosie Chard's debut novel is an icy, tense page-turner

In the world of the almost-future, where gas is over three dollars a litre and rolling blackouts have become an accepted inconvenience, no one in Seal Intestine Raincoat is prepared for the emotionally and mentally testing crisis of being isolated without amenities for days during a blizzard in suburban Winnipeg. Unfortunately for Fred Forester, his mother Polly and five strangers, surviving the blizzard and its consequences become much more than a hypothetical situation leisurely ruminated about over hot chocolate. In this tension-stuffed debut novel, Rosie Chard takes us face to face with the ugliness of dubiously ethical choices made in desperate circumstances.

Having moved from rainy, temperate England just weeks prior to winter, the Forester family is ill prepared for the raw intensity of a Canadian winter on the prairies. When a blackout lasts much longer than anyone would have believed possible, Fred and Polly must fight to survive in their newfound isolation. Chard's detailed description of the physical effects of cold on objects and the human mind is almost unbearable as the words bring on the relentless grip cold has on the minds of anyone who lives in such extremes. One feels psychologically trapped by the cold just as the characters are trapped physically, creating a feeling of togetherness, a masterful stroke that compels the pages to continue turning.

The atmospheric tension of the novel builds as the claustrophobic situation rapidly deteriorates, bringing out the best and the worst of those involved. What evil lurks in the hearts of men and women? Who is a natural leader and who is just a bully? What are we really made of when we are confronted by the possibility of our own death and, more importantly, the deaths of those we love? As Fred is forced to become the man of the house, to put aside his childish things and concentrate all his energies on the preservation of his household, we are forced to ponder what our own response in a crisis situation would be.

One ingenious parallel in the novel is a contrast of selfish, individualistic Western society with relatively egalitarian traditional Inuit culture. The extraordinary capability of the Inuit to take care of each other, to work together as a group knowing the collective survival of everyone is an equal priority, meaning no one individual can take precedence over another, is presented as an ideal of cooperation. Weighed against this picture of healthy collaboration are the scrambling and ineffectual group dynamics of the white people who find it almost impossible to work together for their own survival and bring out the worst in themselves and others. Comparisons such as these inevitably lead to considerations of what quality of life means in different societies and how our own culture seems wanting in the ability to preserve altruistic behaviour.

In an environment such as Winnipeg or Edmonton, the weather is a permanent character forever lurking in the background, threatening with the menace of the uncaring force of nature. And without the roiling, polluting, oil -fuelled cogs endlessly churning away in the background, much of our lives would grind to a frighteningly abrupt halt. Writing with a brittle clarity that leaves no shadows for hiding, Chard has woven a starkly inviting tale of courage and desperation that demonstrates the oft-disturbing range of actions the human animal is capable of. V

Seal Intestine Raincoat
By Rosie Chard
232 pp; $19.95
NeWest Press

New comments for this entry have been turned off and any existing ones are hidden. We apologize for any inconvenience.