This new book by Ontario’s Lieutenant Governor James Bartleman is a boyhood memoir of a self-described “half breed” coming of age in post-war Muskoka. Bartleman’s recollections are poignant and ring with the authenticity of vivid memory. The subtitle speaks to the inevitable feeling of difference that a boy from two races and cultures encounters, but also to the class differences between the poverty of his experiences (and those of many local Muskokan residents) and the wealth of the conservative cottage-country crowd.

Bartleman, somewhat strangely, chooses to tell his story in the third person and without any names. In fact, we do not learn that this is indeed Bartleman’s story until many pages into the narrative, and then only by chance. It’s unclear why this conceit is used; perhaps it’s an exercise in humility, a way to distance us from the man in today’s headlines.

The hardships that the boy and his family encounter, including his mother’s depression and the alcoholism of his father (whose home brew is the inspiration for the book’s title), are honestly portrayed. There are occasional anecdotes that depict anti-native racism but, oddly, few details are provided. Bartleman expresses a kind of generalized political anger at the injustice faced by native peoples in Canada, but overall, one is left with the feeling that nothing happened to the young boy that was so bad he could not overcome it.

This leads to an interesting dilemma. Traditionally, stereotyping of native peoples in Canada often leads to tedious portrayals of either the ne’er-do-well Indian at one end of the spectrum or the noble savagery of the suffering Indian at the other. Clearly, celebrating a success story can provide an alternative, affirming view of those from native communities. However, readers may find it a tad disingenuous that, while celebrating individual success, the book appears to gloss over the ongoing trials of the most poverty-stricken, oppressed peoples in Canada. It is a dilemma that James Bartleman has chosen not to deal with directly here, and the book suffers as a result.