the author of Standing in a River of Time talks to Sabyasachi Nag abut her craft

1. “page as bone – ink as blood” draws down “ancestral ideas into the current moment’s breath,” says Joanne Arnott. What prompted you to put this collection together? Did you write the individual pieces around a thematic framework, or was that something that emerged over time?

I have a deep desire to share my story; not for attention but to bring forward important discussions around the effects of racism/colonization, and sexism/patriarchy. The theme of blood and bone emerged over time. The collection is body centred as much of it was written while taking, writing from the body workshops, facilitated by one of my mentors Ingrid rose. In real time, it tracks my unfolding understanding of my Métis ancestry through research and travels to Saskatchewan and Manitoba. Both of my grandparents are Red River Métis and for generations it was Métis marrying Métis, like many Métis, my family was in hiding. They forcefully insisted that I accept their version of our ancestry, but even as a young child I could never do this. Despite being told ‘Indians’ were no good and that my father was ashamed to be one, I felt a strong sense of pride in my Indigenous ancestry.
All my life I could feel my Indigenous Ancestors in my bones and in my blood. Some call this blood memory and for me this is very connected to the Land.

2. In an interview with ROOM Magazine about your second collection An Honest Woman you have said that the collection started out being an autobiographical study of “about sex, love and marriage” and morphed over time to include others. Would you say the collection morphed over time from the personal to the political? Could you describe the life cycle of this collection?

My intention for the book was always political. It was written with young women in mind. I had always wished that the older women in my life had been more honest about the world I was entering. Why did they not support me in seeking agency? Why did no one warn me and most importantly why were our stories of sexual harassment and assault so suspect? Why weren’t we considered reliable, honest witnesses.

The book had always been about the world that, to this day, many young women live in, but now things were on full display. I had Trumps own words to use as proof of what I knew so many men think and do around young vulnerable women. I had no idea that just as the book was being released the #MeToo movement would take off but there had been a feeling of urgency around completing the book. The life cycles of all my books include prayer and long contemplative walks during which I sort through my thoughts and the information that is coming through me.

When writing I feel that I am following as much as I am leading. The poem leads me. I just lean in and listen for what wants to arise.

3. Is your second title related in any way to the first? Or are they completely unrelated?

All three of my books are related. In one way I think of them as a trilogy. I began with page as bone ink as blood, a collection of poetry written while digging deeper into my Métis ancestry. The second book, An Honest Woman, is largely autobiographical poetry looking at the amount of sexual harassment and assault I experienced as a particularly vulnerable young woman. The most recent book, Standing in a River of Time, contains both prose and poetry. It begins with the death of my mother in 1987, moves back and forth in time as I explore the effects of colonization on my Métis family. They reflect my growing understanding of not only my life but that of my Ancestors.

4. What made you a poet?

In a sense you could say that poetry choose me. I had applied to the SFU Writer’s Studio with the intention of writing two books, a memoir, and a ‘self-help’ book about sacred circles for women. Much to my surprise when I received my acceptance letter, I had been placed in the poetry cohort. I called to protest, and they assured me that they had selected me for poetry based on my writing sample. I decided to trust their assessment and that year, while in the studio, I fell in love with poetry. I began to see it as the perfect venue for telling my story. With poetry one can gesture towards painful events and memories using fragments of what we do recall feeling, seeing, and thinking.

Although I became a poet, I am also a storyteller, one that uses cross genre as a bridge between narrative poetry and prose. I have been moving between the two more and more as I venture into essay writing. My most recent book, Standing in a River of Time, has both prose and poetry. With this book the narrative directed me, presenting itself as prose at times and at other times it was a poetry.

5. What specific incident incited/inspired your last piece of work (of any form or length)?

While writing, Standing in a River of Time, I had trouble finding an ending that felt right and then I attended a ceremony for the 215 littles ones whose graves were found by the Tk’emlups te Secwepemc First Nation at the Kamloops Indian Residential School.  While at the ceremony, something I heard shifted inside me and suddenly I knew how to end the book. 

6. Could you name a source that served as an inspiration earlier but is no longer an inspiration, rather something you are currently conflicted with or even hostile towards?

There are so many, but it is Joseph Boyden that stands out most to me. I was quite taken with his writing and none more so than a book he had written about Louis Riel. The book left me feeling angry and wondering if Louis Riel may have regretted not taking Gabriel Dumont’s suggestions for battle tactics at Batoche. As a Métis, what I read ignited anger and brought questions. I wrote an imaginary letter from Riel to Dumont and included it in my first book, page as bone ink as blood. I credit Joseph in the book and then shortly after the book came out there was a great unravelling of his claims to being Indigenous. For a time, I was angry with Boyden as it felt as if now all Métis were what some call ‘pretendians’.  

7. Is pleasure an emotion that you would associate with any of the stages of your writing practice? Or is it not pleasure but a different positive emotion? Can you reflect on that?

I get bone deep satisfaction when editing brings forward good medicine; words that speak to hard truths and yet soothe. I do sometimes take the search for that perfect word or sentence or line too far. Revising can bring on doubt, particularly if under the pressure of a deadline. It is then that I get up from my desk and take a walk so that I can lay tobacco and pray. I ask for a clear mind, to see things in a good way and to speak/write truth in as gentle a way possible. It is my hope that my writing will land deeply inside my readers and that they will walk away with what Clarissa Pinkola Estés Ph.D., the author of Women Who Run with the Wolves, calls story bones (teachings) to add to the stories they already carry.

Author Bio

Jónína Kirton, a Métis Icelandic poet graduated from the Simon Fraser University’s Writer’s Studio in 2007 and is currently an Adjunct Professor with the UBC Creative Writing Program. She was sixty-one when she received the 2016 Vancouver’s Mayor’s Arts Award for an Emerging Artist in the Literary Arts category. Her second collection of poetry, An Honest Woman, was a finalist in the 2018 Dorothy Livesay Poetry Prize. Her third book, Standing in a River of Time, released in 2022, merges poetry and lyrical memoir to take us on a journey exposing the intergenerational effects of colonization on a Métis family.