He is relieved to finally see the river bottom at the other side, signalling safe passage, but he notes that,īefore I had time to be thankful, I was lifted in one strong movement and set on my feet in shallow water.īin looks back at his mother who has chosen to stay on the far side of the river and notes, Bin’s father has already escorted Bin’s older sister and brother across the channel, and returns for his younger son.īecause I was small and he was big, he hoisted me onto his back and began to swim though the dark current, out and out to the island and the swiftest part of the river.īin’s state of mind boomerangs from terror to exhilaration and back as he rides the treacherous water clinging to his father’s back, terrified of slipping off, but at the same time, fascinated by the changing colours of the river’s current. The role of the river as a metaphor for a life’s story is most clearly articulated in a key scene, which encapsulates the central conflict of the story, and holds within it a truth with which Bin must reconcile in order to come to terms with his own life. The scene unfolds in Bin’s memory as he recalls being ferried across a dangerous patch of the Fraser River on his father’s back, on a rare and fateful day the family spent relaxing, playing and picnicking together on the river’s banks. As Bin tells his young son, “I do hear the river,” (…) and “I listen because it has a story to tell.” Water and particularly rivers have been recurring elements in Itani’s writing (see for example, Leaning, Leaning Over Water) and the author herself has stated that she connects rivers to the idea of life,* the current a collective of individual stories, or narrative lines, the rapids equated with the rough and tumble of life’s trials, the still pools with moments of peace and grace.

Requiem book frances itani