Vancouver-based musician and writer Robert Chursinoff talks to Debbie Bateman about his debut novel.
DB: Your novel, The Descendants, weaves together the stories of two ex-lovers and their families of origin in a Doukhobor community in British Columbia. We follow their individual and collective journeys towards healing. In tandem, we get a compressed history of Doukhobor communities in Canada. While the present day is conveyed in past tense, moments from the past are shared in present tense. How did this innovative approach come to you? Did it affect the unfolding of the story as you were writing?
RC: I felt that including historical vignettes of the Doukhobors in-between certain chapters would give my characters and the story more authenticity, especially when, in certain instances, the backdrop of history supported or touched on what the characters were experiencing. It was also a way for me to present the rich, complex history of the Doukhobors in a more interesting manner than a straightforward academic text might. And, in a way, it’s me saying, “Yes. While The Descendants is fiction, there is a lot of reality to what these characters experience.” Placing the historical fiction vignettes in present tense just seemed like the natural thing to do. I never questioned it too much. And I approached the nonfiction separately from the fiction without much thought about whether one would inform or affect the other (but hoping for some natural cross-over).
DB: The scenes about music, especially the earlier ones describing Ruby on tour with her rock band Caravana, have an almost dizzying momentum. The phrasing and verb forms carry such a strong rhythm it was almost as if I could hear the music. Does your experience as a drummer affect your writing? Are there similarities between the two forms of creative expression that you consciously use during the writing process?
RC: As a drummer I’m very aware of rhythm and timing, and perhaps this informs my writing although to be honest I’ve never actually made the connection before. I’ve never approached writing with the thought that, well, I play drums in a certain way, and I record in the studio in a certain way, therefore I’ll approach writing in the same manner. I like to read sentences that flow, that have a cadence that feels right. This, to me, is especially apparent when reading aloud. Although this might have more to do with my occasional voice-over work. In that profession, one is very aware of how words and sentences roll off the tongue. I think more than anything I wanted the reader to feel the buzz of what it’s like to perform on stage in front of adoring fans and I hope my musical history enabled me to convey that feeling.
DB: The novel explores pacifism and asks how people can be held accountable for horrific acts of violence and degradation. Jonah must learn to live with what he did as a United States Marine in Iraq. Ruby seeks justice for an act of violence she endured as a young woman. Other characters carry their own acts of cruelty, whether they perpetrated them or received them. Healing is complex and never easy. What was it like interweaving these moments of injustice and cruelty towards a sense of forgiveness and healing?
RC: In a way, it felt like writing non-fiction. We just have to look around and listen. Violence is everywhere in the media. On the other end of the spectrum, I’ve experienced the power of forgiveness and kindness, and it’s fascinating to me how individual people react and respond to these opposites. I love stories where someone responds to something done to them in a way you might not expect. How can one person forgive and another not? The answers are found in their backstory, in their history, in the ways they were raised.
DB: The novel poses complex ethical questions about the nature of forgiveness, not just the forgiveness we offer others but the forgiveness we give ourselves. For some, the offering of forgiveness is a source of deep pain. For others, it is a source of peace. Would you like to share your thoughts on forgiveness and how they evolved as you worked on this novel?
RC: It was a challenge to write about the sometimes tumultuous relationship between violence, forgiveness and healing, but I found it worthwhile, even cathartic. On a trip to Rwanda in 2010, I met many people who lived through the horrors of genocide yet unfathomably were able to forgive the perpetrators of the violence. And then there are other people we come across in our day-to-day lives who hold on to the seemingly smallest trespass against them and will never find it within themselves to forgive. I wanted my characters to fall somewhere along this spectrum. My beliefs around pacifism and forgiveness, which stem from my Doukhobor upbringing, remained steadfast throughout the writing of the novel. But then again, I’ve never been in real life circumstances quite like some of my characters have. I don’t think we really know what we’re capable of until put to the test.
DB: Between 1953 and 1959, over two hundred Doukhobor children were forcibly removed from their families and imprisoned in New Denver under the guise of giving them an education. The children were punished for their culture and some were abused by the people who were supposed to be teaching them. The intergenerational trauma caused by this resonates throughout the lives of the characters in this novel. Sometimes it is on the surface and other times it is buried so deeply family members have no idea how much their relatives suffer. As a member of the Doukhobor community, what would you like this book to do for those seeking to heal?
RC: There are still many people alive who went through the residential-style school system in New Denver, British Columbia, and are suffering the traumas of that experience. I’m not sure my novel will be a source of healing to them. I mean, if it is, that’s wonderful. I’m glad I could help in some way. I do hope though that the novel and the press it gets can shed light on the fact that those Sons of Freedom Doukhobor people who were stolen from their families as children and subjected to marginalization, cultural suppression, and abuse, still have not received a formal apology from the British Columbia and Canadian governments. Both governments refuse to offer that. A formal apology, as we’ve seen with Indigenous communities, can greatly aid in the healing process.
DB: Was there a specific incident that inspired this piece of work? Would you like to share the basic idea/germ behind the work the very first time it manifested in your mind?
RC: They say, write what you know. I’m a Doukhobor. On my dad’s side, he came from a Sons of Freedom background. At least for a time (before I was born), he was involved with the Freedomite community, but he never took part in any illegal protests. His own father was more involved and spent time in prison because of that. In addition, in 2006/2007 when travelling in Costa Rica, I met a soft-spoken, 24-year-old United States Marine named Peter O’connor. He’d fought in the Battle of Fallujah, was fresh from Iraq, and was grieving the death of fellow Marines. We talked candidly about war, and he became the source of inspiration for Jonah Seeger’s character, through which I could explore the paradox of someone raised with pacifist roots becoming a soldier. Like Peter had, the character of Jonah suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder, and the theme of trauma recovery runs throughout the novel.
DB: Are any characters in the book based on people that actually exist in the world as we know it? Can you talk a bit more about the compositing process you followed in selecting and accumulating character traits from real people that may have inspired the fictional characters?
RC: Yes. United States Marine Peter O’connor, and parts of other real people inspired my characters. Ruby’s band, Caravana, is a fictional version of the gypsy-punk band Gogol Bordello. Sharon and Virginia are composites of several Doukhobor women and mothers who I’ve known throughout my life—more for their personality traits than for their appearance. Ruby was inspired in part by a few women from the Slocan Valley in the West Kootenay region whom I knew throughout my twenties. And Clinton was the product of every dirtbag I’ve ever come across. His character was finalized after a trip to Kelowna, during which I was walking along a sidewalk when I happened to look at a guy the wrong way. The guy was big and haggard. He had dark energy, bleeding scabs, and a voice like he’d gargled razor blades for breakfast. Luckily, he had a bad limp and couldn’t catch me as I fled from his threats to kill me.
DB: How long did it take you to write the first draft? What was the core of the developmental process between drafts? As you moved through drafts, were you working mostly on the structure, the story world, aspects of style and language, or something else?
RC: I started the novel in 2008 and wrote 75 to 100 pages in about a year before I quit. I’d lost confidence in my craft and had been comparing my writing to accomplished novelists to the point that I just felt dejected. I decided I would try my hand at short stories instead, do some travelling, write about my travels, read more of what interested me (thrillers and sci-fi as opposed to literary works), and generally live as adventurous a life as I could. Out of curiosity while living in Austria, I re-read the early draft of the novel and felt it had some ‘legs’. So, in 2017, I decided to finish it. As I work through drafts, I work on structure, the story world and aspects of style and language. But I also work on character development. I find that I edit (a lot) as I write before I can move on to the next chapter. By the time I had my first full draft in 2019, I’d probably written 700 to 800 pages.
DB: Are any aspects of the book autobiographical? How did you consciously deal with your intimate material (such as emotional and physical experiences) in a way that avoids the dangers of straight autobiography?
RC: There aren’t necessarily specific aspects of the novel that are autobiographical, but I drew from my life experiences. Unlike Jonah I’ve never fought in a war, nor was I interred at the New Denver residential school like some of my characters, but I conducted the interviews and did the research to make those situations as authentic as possible. On the other hand, like Ruby and Caravana, I’ve done a lot of touring with bands at a similar level of popularity. Have I celebrated with abandon like Ruby does? Absolutely. How much of that was autobiographical? Not telling. And that’s the beauty of writing what you know. Your characters become your avatars and you get to put as much or as little of yourself in them as desired. Regarding the portrayal of Doukhobor life and the characters we meet in my novel, I’d say around 60% of that is a composite of my experiences.
DB: If this book were optioned for film, what aspect of the original work would you be most conscious of preserving? Why?
RC: I don’t think once it’s optioned, I’d have much of any say in what stays and what gets changed. But if I did, I’d like to preserve the Doukhobor aspect and the largely Canadian setting. I don’t think the story works, especially the Sons of Freedom aspect, with any other ethno-religious community in this country. The Doukhobors and our history are quite unique, particularly our relationship to Canadian authorities. If it was optioned for an American market, the Doukhobor aspect wouldn’t work, and my hope would be that the Doukhobor name would not be used for an American ethno-religious community that doesn’t really exist there. I’d be okay with a fictionalized name.
Robert Chursinoff was born and raised in the Doukhobor community of southeastern British Columbia. He draws inspiration for The Descendants from his upbringing and his years spent drumming for Grammy-nominated duo Tegan and Sara, Australian pop star Ben Lee, the Be Good Tanyas, Juno-nominated performer Kinnie Starr, the Belle Game, and many others. His writing has been published in the literary journal Blank Spaces, the anthology Just Words Volume 4, and online in Vice, Nowhere Magazine, Upworthy, and Matador Network. As a scriptwriter, he has worked on dozens of Red Bull Media House documentaries and series. He lives in Vancouver, BC, on the traditional, unceded territories of the Musqueam, Squamish, and Tsleil-Waututh Coast Salish peoples with his partner, their daughter, and their dog.