Under Review


Jen Currin

Hider / Seeker



Hiding from the people who project onto us, finding freedom in the people who enlighten us. We are a broken people, some more than others. Some hide, some seek, some find.

In this debut collection of fiction penned by Vancouver author Jen Currin, the reader is taken through a rapid-fire series of lives coming together and unraveling, relationships budding and breaking, self awareness developing, and the hard realities met along the way.

There is a thread of yearning that binds these stories together. Between tales of deceit and weakness are pillars of strength and meditative silence. As often as the characters in Hider / Seeker are searching for peace and spiritual meaning, others are simply looking to numb their pain through substance or relationship addiction. Take for instance Mikio in “Up the Mountain,” who is on their way to a meditation retreat. Somewhat frozen in fear and with unease in their heart they embark on this journey into silence, met with distractions and annoyances along the way, but it isn’t until a ghostly visit from a long lost parent that the fear starts to melt away.

There is a satisfying sense of closure within most of these stories, whether it be the two ex-partners attempting a second go and realizing it just won’t work, the trials of substance abuse, the peace found amidst distraction, and even the morbid tale of three sisters finding their way through years of abuse. This collection of stories shows us how we hide and seek our way through life.

Currins wordplay is beautiful and clever, drawing the reader in with an easy and relatable grace. Her largely LGBTQIA2S+ characters are as strong willed as they are fragile as they flirt with death and each other, the mystery of spirit, the need for spiritual retreat, and the facing of harsh reality.

We are, after all, a wounded people in search of our personal answers and though these stories are works of fiction, they speak with a very real voice.

Bush Lady

Alanis Obomsawin

Bush Lady


Alanis Obomsawin, from the Abenaki Nation, is best known as a storied filmmaker whose documentaries serve to shed light on struggles for Indigenous rights. Beginning as an artist in the ‘60s, she finally recorded her lone full-length album after 20+ years of live performances and social activism. Bush Lady, originally released in 1985 as a CBC recording and later remastered by Obomaswin in 1988, came at a time when assimilation was just being phased out of official government legislation and the violent history of Indigenous peoples experiences as a result of colonization was not a prevalent topic of national discussion. Bush Lady gets its third reissue at a pivotal moment in Canadian and Indigenous history as the Truth and Reconciliation Commission attempts to educate and acknowledge the oppression of the past. The record is a sonic testament to Obomsawin’s unrelenting fight for Indigenous peoples located within the borders of Canada. The dialogue on the record is a powerful reminder about the impact colonization has on Indigenous women and culture.

The two-part title track is the story of a woman cast out by the settlers and her own community after the birth of her blond child to a white man. The prose is spoken from the perspective of a number of different narrators including the colonial invaders who treat the woman like an object in passing, casting her out after her pregnancy is revealed: “Go back home to your people / Go home now, you hear?” The dialogue is broken only by Obomsawin’s chants. In the second part the titular Bush Lady, who has had to abandoned her child to the settlers, is rescued by her Nokum, her grandmother in spirit form, who beckons her to follow to a place of no pain, away from the earthly existence of homelessness and despair.

While “Bush Lady” is the story of an individual’s pain and demise, “Theo,” also split in two parts and beautifully sung in French, tells the story of a village pushed towards assimilation. Obamsowin’s chants become noticeably angry as the Christian names are forced upon the villagers towards the end of the second part of the song.

Set amidst a beautiful musical score composed of a traditional, animal skin drum and classical woodwind and string instruments, Bush Lady provides a stunning narrative on the experience of Indigenous people living under a colonial state.