Bill Chu of Canadians for Reconciliation.
âFor a long time, we had been subjected to similar treatments, and weâd coexist and help each other on those fronts during those terrible times,â he says. âIf you look back, anything before 1967, the Chinese were subjected to all kinds of discriminatory legislations, both provincially and federally. And the indigenous people at that time had their own limitations in terms of what the government allowed them or didnât allow them to do. So both were subjects of big-time, official discrimination.â
The situation with Gwan and the Cantonese opera community, Chu says, should not be considered to be an anomaly restricted to a few relationships between select individuals.
âItâs not just something exotic that we should be looking into but something which is real, which should cause us to reflect on how we should relate to indigenous people today.â
âWe learned a lot from him,â Rosa says of her relationship with Gwan. âA lot of people will think heâs nobody.â She pauses and looks to Gwanâs friend, Ling, seated next to her. They both know that Gwan led a remarkable life and that his memory deserves to be preserved, honoured, and celebrated.
       A UTHOR C OMMENTARY
While Jim Wong-Chu was guest editing Ricepaper magazine, he wanted to tell me about Wah Kwan Gwan and his unique presence in the Cantonese opera community. Thereâs not a lot of discussion about historical relationships between Chinese and Aboriginal communities, he told me, and certainly not enough contemporary discussion of the ties between Vancouverâs Downtown Eastside community and nearby Chinatown residents. Jim connected me with Wah Kwan Gwanâs friends Rosa Cheng and Yiucheung Ling. It was very special to hear how much they valued a person who many thought of as unremarkable and, worse, undeserving of care and a place in the community. â Jackie Wong, 2015
       A BOUT THE A UTHOR
Jackie Wong lives and works in Vancouver, BC. She currently works as the editor at Megaphone , a monthly magazine on urban issues and independent culture sold by homeless and low-income vendors in Vancouver and Victoria. She is also an instructor in UBCâs creative writing program and works as a freelance editor for local publishers and non-profits.
In Conversation with Madeleine Thien
Ricepaper 18, no. 3 (2013)
Hanako Masutani
On a bright fall afternoon in Burnaby, I met Madeleine Thien in her new writer-in-residence office at Simon Fraser University. As Madeleine prepared mugs of green tea, the window behind her displayed a long, sunny view of the university and turning fall leaves. We sat down beside a wall of books to discuss Madeleineâs just-completed novel, writing, her time in Canada and abroad, and identity.
HM: Your book Simple Recipes, which came out over ten years ago now, was such a big success. Youâve had success after success, it seems. Do you feel like youâve arrived as a writer?
MT: Thatâs a hard question. I never think of it in those terms, because youâre not sure where youâre arriving to. And I think each book shows you more of what youâre capable of, and also, more of what you arenât capable of. So itâs a continuous process. But I feel more proud of Simple Recipes now than I did then. At the time it was so close to me. And my reading of it was, maybe, overly critical. Now when I look back on it, itâs a book I feel glad I had the chance to write at that particular time in my life.
HM: What are your ideal writing conditions?
MT: Itâs been harder as I get older, because Iâve realized the ideal conditions for me are to be completely alone for several months at a time. Thatâs very hard to arrange. Thatâs hard on your relationships. But, ideally, if I can be away for two or three months and do only
Eric J. Guignard (Editor)