Métis cousins Isidore “Ezzy” Desjarlais and Grey Ginther have beef with their world. With the latest racist policy rolling out. With whatever new pipeline plowing through traditional territory. With the way a treaty (aka, the army) forced the Papaschase Cree off their home on the prairie. And, on the other hand, with how Grey’s friends think if they all just went back to the Rez or the settlement, life would be so much better—pretty, like an Instagram ad. Then there’s the warming planet. And their future, which they seem to be screwing up quite well on their own. Being alive can’t be all cribbage, Lucky Lager, and swiping the occasional catalytic converter. One night, the cousins hatch a plan to capture a herd of bison from a nearby national park and release them in downtown Edmonton. They want to be seen, be heard, and to disrupt the settler routines of the city, yet they have no idea what awaits them or the fateful consequences their actions have. Balancing wit and sorrow in a work of satire, social commentary, and whip-smart storytelling, Prairie Edge follows Ezzy and Grey’s inspired misadventures as their zealous ideas about bringing about real change do indeed elicit change, just in unexpected and sometimes disastrous ways. Conor Kerr imagines a web of Métis relationships strained by dislocation, poverty, violence, and cultural drift, but he also laces the ties that bind Ezzy and Grey—and forever bind the Métis to the land—to explore the radical possibility that a couple of inspired miscreants might actually have the power to make a difference.
