The ape in us all
Canadian novelist Colin Mcadam finds chimps have answers to some of life’s big questions
During times of crisis and spiritual or emotional upheaval most of us ponder the stars, plunder history and literature, consult philosophers and priests, or seek answers in oblivion.
Toronto-based novelist Colin McAdam’s mid-life angst led him elsewhere, back to primates, our closest relations in the animal kingdom, for clues to the great questions: who are we and what should we be doing?
It’s not that McAdam expected the chimpanzees he studied at a primate centre outside Montreal — the setting for Toronto non-fiction writer Andrew Westoll’s 2012 Charles Taylor Prize-winning memoir, The Chimps of Fauna Sanctuary, which examines the emotional and psychological condition of primates abused then “rescued” by humans — to have an inside track on the mysteries of existence. Nor did he necessarily want to inform humanity about the complex, largely unobserved lives of beasts in the wild, as Canadian novelist Barbara Gowdy did in 1999 with The White Bone, which allows us to hear how elephants “talk” to one another.
With his third novel, A Beautiful Truth, McAdam told the Star in a recent interview, “I wanted to see if I could write a great novel about human relationships through the experiences of chimps — for no other reason than that we have so much DNA in common, about 98 per cent.”
Told from the perspectives of both humans — a childless couple whose lives are fundamentally changed when they decide to adopt a rescue chimp and raise it as their own — and rescue chimps, who communicate with each other and with humans via lab-taught sign language and symbol recognition techniques, A Beautiful Truth delves into our fears of loneliness and isolation in a vast, unknowable universe, and the conventions and constructs we use in order to function and endure. “I hit the wrong side of 40, and like most people, I started to realize what my body was and what it was doing to me,” McAdam said. “I was frustrated with all the chatter about the environment and our role on Earth, our higher purpose. It seems to me we completely ignore that we are animals. We don’t talk at all about the flesh, our part as just one more species in the kingdom of animals.”
Our genetic similarity to apes made McAdam aware that he may learn a great deal more about the human condition by studying what primates had learned of theirs.
The son of a Canadian diplomat, born in Hong Kong and raised in Barbados, Denmark and the U.K., and educated in Britain, Toronto and Montreal, where he lived till recently, McAdam researched scientific literature, case studies and anthropological data, and was convinced he had a decent basis for his great novel until he decided to spend some time with the Fauna Sanctuary chimps.
“I realized I couldn’t deal with these animals credibly until I witnessed them first-hand,” McAdam said. “But once I met them, the whole project took on a new shape, partly because their stories as biomedical lab victims were so compelling and needed telling, and partly because merely being with them, watching how they interacted with each other and with humans, was such a mind-blowing experience. That opened up my novel, widened the scope.
“My challenge was to write about these creatures who are so similar to us with the one tool they do not possess, and which is the single greatest benefit to humans — words. Words are our salvation, but in every other area — social structures, behaviour, emotions, politics — we are very much alike. How do I bring characters to life when they don’t speak? That fascinated me.”
A Beautiful Truth didn’t come eas- ily to McAdam, whose 7-year-old son lives in Sydney, Australia, with his mother, since his parents’ separation. “It was a dark place to be for a long time. Everything about this book was hard — finding a language, overcoming prejudices, anticipating accusations of anthropomorphism. I usually write from A to B to C, but this book doesn’t have a linear structure. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy doing it, but it was a real struggle.” Staying afloat in turbulent waters of contemporary publishing exacts a toll as well, McAdam admitted. “I learned from my first novel that it’s dangerous to rely on the enthusiasm of friends in the business. Once the book is done, it’s out there, out of my hands, and it will have to find its own way to survive. “I can’t afford to let that get to me. I keep reminding myself that being a writer is about sitting alone in a room and making stuff up.”