Review of THE BIRTHING TREE by Amanda Peters (New Release)

4 Stars 

This novel, by the author of The Berry Pickers, is rooted in Mi’kmaq culture, specifically birthing trees. Women gave birth outdoors beneath sacred trees which were believed to strengthen the bonds of both mother and newborn to nature, ancestors, and culture.

This is a dual timeline narrative. It opens in 1964 when Aliet Paul is nine years old. She lives with Kiju, her grandmother, because her mother died giving birth to her. We learn about her upbringing; Kiju is focused on teaching her granddaughter about her culture and traditions. In the late 1990s, Aliet, now in her early 40s, is working as a nurse. She receives word that Kiju has died so Aliet returns to her childhood home. She comes to regret not fully listening to and appreciating Kiju’s lessons and sets out to reclaim her past and traditions. In the process she uncovers some family secrets.

I enjoyed learning about Mi’kmaq culture. I had never heard about birthing trees which symbolize maternal strength, the embrace of ancestors, and connection to the land. I loved Aliet’s explanation that “There is no word for goodbye in our language because there is no such thing. You can’t give a name to something that doesn’t exist. For us, we are always walking among the ancestors. We will see each other again someday is always true.”

Highlighted as well are examples of the mistreatment of Indigenous Peoples. Aliet speaks of her grandfather being buried at the edge of a Catholic graveyard: “Catholic enough to be buried there but too Indian to take space from the white folk.” Kiju owns her land on the edge of a village: “We all lived on the edges, a testament to our place in the world. Never at the centre, always on the periphery, easily forgotten, easily ignored.” When there is an attempt to move all of the Indians onto centralized reserves, Aliet comments: “The cruel irony of men in suits and shiny shoes trying to take away the land that had been stolen from us, the same land we bought back from the thieves.” Indigenous people, even children, are treated with suspicion and their traditions are disrespected. Spiritual practices are considered nonsense and superstition, traditional midwifery is considered uncivilized, and garbage is regularly left at the birthing tree.

I do have some issues. Parts of the book are predictable: it is easy, very early on, to guess what Aliet will uncover about her past. What I wondered, however, is when Kenneth learns the truth. He cannot know when he calls her an “orphan half-breed” though later he speaks as if he knew for a long time and justifies his behaviour because he had this knowledge: “’You never had to deal with him, and I was there all the time. . . . And I hated that you escaped it all and I couldn’t.’” I also wondered about a case of sexual assault: people know about a rape, but they take no action against the rapist? William just disappears from the story after serving his purpose?

The most memorable character for me is Kiju. She is a traditional midwife who relies on traditional medicine, teas, and spiritual practices to support mothers and bring children into the world. She is full of wisdom. Her passion for traditional ways is palpable. When hospital births are pushed on women who are drugged during labour, Kiju argues, “’How can you tell your own child their birth story if you can’t remember it yourself? How will they know where they came from, who they came from? . . . And you sleep through the most beautiful . . . And the lights, and the noise, so harsh on the ears of a newborn. And they steal the cord, the birth sac.’” I cheered at Kiju’s reaction to Mrs. Brown at the town hall meeting.

People who enjoyed The Berry Pickers (which is referenced more than once in this novel) will like this one as well. It has much to recommend it.

Note: I received an eARC from the publisher via NetGalley.