Openly Karl
by Karl Wells | Breakwater Books | $24.95
Reviewed by Heidi Wicks
The storytelling of Karl Wells has taken many forms over the years. In the 1980s through most of the aughts, he was our zany CBC weatherman, falling down on skates, dressing up like Count Dracula, scrawling clouds and wind patterns on a chalkboard. From the Hibernia oil platform to a boat on Labrador’s Churchill River, he told the stories of the people of this province for nearly three decades.
But now he tells his own story.
Born in Buchans, raised a townie and a Protestant, his childhood was idyllic on the surface. After moving into town, he and his family moved to central St. John’s, in an apartment above Wells Groceteria, owned and operated by his dad. Young Karl was terrified to attend school when the time came, but made plenty of friends when he was eventually forced to go.
He recalls a dinner at his good, Catholic, neighbourhood friend Gerry Power’s house. “At our house, my father solemnly said grace before we began a meal. At Gerry’s house nobody said grace. Each just quickly made the sign of the cross on themselves. I remember thinking it was a much faster and more efficient way to invoke the Spirit of God at the family table. I made a mental note to strongly recommend it to Dad.”
Spoiler alert: the conversation didn’t go so well.
Despite comedic shimmer throughout the book, the memories of being forced to go to school, being overweight for a period of time, communicating the truth of his sexuality, the recurring harassment from one certain homophobic colleague at the CBC, and his many other pivotal life moments, are recalled vividly, profoundly and a little painfully.
In chapter 11, “You know That Disease,” the nightmare of the AIDS epidemic is awakened. Wells recalls the gory details of the murder of Frank Howse (a personal connection), brutally attacked with broken beer bottles until he was left for dead. Evidence shows it was a hate crime. “An uneasy calm pervaded the St. John’s gay community following first reports of the mysterious illness in New York and San Francisco…” he writes. “Some of our friends chose to bury their heads and ignore the reports, while others took the view that since it wasn’t happening in Newfoundland, there was no reason to be alarmed. Larry [Wells now-husband] and I thought otherwise. We reasoned that it would likely soon arrive on our shores and not leave without taking lives with it.”
Wells has the remarkable ability to craft writing that is plainly poetic. He states the facts, and then adds embellishment that some critics may expect to teeter on too twee, except that it’s so deeply authentic and moving. I am curious if Wells drew on journals or just his memory during the writing of this memoir.
Overriding everything, Openly Karl is a love story. Wells recalls with affection, humour and the truest adoration how he and his long-time partner, Larry, met, how their relationship has only bloomed brighter over many tumultuous years. It is a love that has deepened over the decades..
This memoir is a time travel experience through St. John’s society from the 1950s to the present day. A tale of simultaneous turmoil and eventual harmony. A gem amongst Newfoundland history books.