10/14/17: I re-read this book and participated in this multi-media project as part of my Fall 2017 YAL class, also read in conjunction with Wenjack, by Joseph Boyden, which is also about the same kid, Chanie Wenjack. I edited my original review a bit here and there, too.
12/25/16: I'm not a big marketing guy here, but just buy this book. And you get more than a book when you buy it; you get the 96 page large format graphic novel by Jeff Lemire (Sweet Tooth, Essex County), you get the lyrics to ten songs by Tragically Hip singer Gord Downie (now terminally ill with brain cancer), you get a link to all the music, and their notes, a letter from Downie, and a link to a 2-hour documentary about Wenjack, others, and the ongoing Canadian Truth and Reconciliation Commission.
So, Secret Path tells the story of Chanie “Charlie” Wenjack, a twelve-year-old boy who died in flight from the Cecilia Jeffrey Indian Residential School fifty years ago. There are now, I find, lots of versions of the story of this kid, who sort of has come to symbolize the tragedy of the Canadian "re-education" programme that mirrors the (tragic) one my old US of A set in place, to rip kids off reservations and un-Indian them.
Chanie, misnamed Charlie by his teachers, in the way white western people have in wanting non-western people to have western-sounding names, died on October 22, 1966, walking the railroad tracks, escaping from the Cecilia Jeffrey Indian Residential School to return home, 400 miles away. He just wanted to go home. He didn't know where he was going. He didn't know how to get home. He died along the way, frozen to death.
Chanie's story gets mixed up in my head with my own teenaged son, 17, who attends a "therapeutic day treatment" school (for kids with special needs) that he walks away from once in awhile. As with Chanie, my son walked out of the school and tried to walk home in freezing weather the other day, without a coat or gloves, taking no food or water, and walked several miles toward home until the police picked him up and an EMT treated him for near-frozen hands. He didn't die, no, and he isn't being re-educated, but he isn't doing anything in school he can relate to, he wants to be outside, working with his hands. It's not the same thing, I know, but it colors my reading of Chanie's story. Kids who are lost, literally and figuratively.
Chanie's story gets mixed up in my head with all the kids I see homeless on the streets of Chicago, thousands of them, some of them riding the trains all day, just to stay warm, begging for change or food from folks along the way. Lost kids, neglected by the rest of us, increasingly.
But Chanie is not those kids. Chanie's story, as The Secret Path has it, is a simple one, with simple, sad images of his walking along railroad tracks. Memories of school. A raven, as he approaches the end. He is driven by images of home, flashbacks from his earlier life. Knowing Lemire's work with father-son stories, one image that drives Chanie is of his father, and fishing back home. The images are spare, lovely, sad, haunting. Downie's songs are spare, lovely, sad, haunting. More sad than angry, though you'll feel that, too, I hope. Money for this project goes to the Canadian Truth and Reconciliation Project. It's less story than multi-genre tone poem in music and art. Images and sounds of silence. It's not so much a political statement as a spiritual one, a moment of collective grieving.
Jeff Lemire said this project was the most emotionally intense work of his life, and I can believe it. It is sadly beautiful, all of it, and you won't forget it. And Downie, sick with cancer, that adds a layer of intensity and darkness to the tale, a layer of foreboding, another life cut short. Buy it, don't just get this--as I usually do--from the library. Librarians, get it for your library. I know it sounds dark, but as a work of art, uh!!