The CP Wire Service profile

Self-help satire

Malika Hollander

Calgary author Will Ferguson orders sushi and beer from the waiter in the lounge of a downtown hotel: a revealing selection.

Ferguson is best known for his humorous books on Canadian history -- Why I Hate Canadians; Bastards and Boneheads: Canada's Glorious Leaders Past and Present; and Canadian History for Dummies, in which he manages to synthesize two seemingly incompatible things: a hearty belly-laugh and the Fathers of Confederation.

But Ferguson also spent several years teaching English in Japan.

Out of that experience came Hokkaido Highway Blues: Hitchhiking Japan, a gem of a travel narrative describing Ferguson's adventures as he hitchhiked from Cape Sata in the south to the northern tip of Japan.

With his first foray into fiction, the satirical novel Generica [later: HappinessTM], Ferguson combines razor-sharp humour with wacky characters, comic book-action sequences and a compelling mystery.

In Generica, Edwin de Valu, a deluded self-help editor, pulls a book from the slush pile -- publishing lingo for unsolicited manuscripts -- to fill a gap in his publisher's line-up.

"What I Learned on the Mountain" is the self-help book to end all self-help books. It delivers on its promise of solving all of the woes of American society -- smoking, drug abuse, over-eating, excess consumerism -- by unleashing a plague of happiness.

At first Edwin is only mildly peeved by the cheerful, co-operative New Yorkers around him. But when reading "What I Learned on the Mountain" turns cynical May Weatherhill, Edwin's fellow editor and lover, into a happy zombie, Edwin resolves to find the author of the book and exact his revenge.

The publishing industry takes the brunt of Ferguson's wit, but he had trouble poking fun at self-help.

"The hardest part about writing this book," Ferguson says in all seriousness, "was trying to satirize self-help. As a genre it is already on the brink of self-caricature."

To prove his point, Ferguson describes a recent encounter he had with an actual self-help author. In Generica, Edwin decides to change the name of the self-help book to "Chocolates for the Soul" and Ferguson thought the new title was "pretty cutting and satirical."'

But the real-life self-help author's book was titled "Hot Chocolate for the Mystical Woman's Soul." Truth is much more outrageous than fiction.

Serious subject

Reviewers and interviewers have focused on the satirical aspects of the book. Ferguson, however, insists that beneath the surface he is exploring more serious themes.

A book that solves all of the world's problems wouldn't necessarily be a good thing.

"Everyone is motivated by the pursuit of happiness. That is good. That's what makes the wheels turn," Ferguson explains. "But the last thing you want is to actually achieve that. That is the paradox. As soon as you are satisfied you die."'

Instead of trying to be happy, you should act in ways that reflect your individual values and ideals, he says.

Edwin, described as a hopeless loser early in the novel, becomes a hero when he decides to risk his life to save May and, incidentally, the world from too much happiness.

"The best way to define your individuality is by what you will do and what you won't do,"' Ferguson says, sipping on his beer. "Where you draw the line."'

Father figure

Jack, the character in the book who embodies this world view, is based on Ferguson's father, a hard-living, eccentric professor of philosophy for whom Ferguson displays genuine affection and respect.

"Some of the stuff Jack says in the book is word-for-word stuff my dad would say,"' Ferguson points out. "Even little things like the statement that 'ethics is not about choosing between black and white. Ethics is about choosing between grey and grey and that is where the challenge lies.'"

Like Jack, Ferguson's father lived in a trailer in a small town in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by his books.

"My dad died a year ago when I was right in the middle of the book," Ferguson says with regret.

"I was disappointed because my dad would have liked the book. I didn't tell him because I wanted it to be a surprise."

CP Services (Toronto)
May 12, 2001