BERTON'S ADVICE: GO AHEAD AND INHALE

Ever Outspoken At 84, He Rages Against 'Stupid' Marijuana Laws And Insists
His 50th Book Is His Last, Maybe

Interview with Pierre Berton.

TORONTO -- Pierre Berton, the man who immortalized the Klondike, is
now associated with the kind of rush that has nothing to do with gold.

Since offering his advice on how to roll a joint on Rick Mercer's
Monday Report on Oct. 18, the noted Canadian author has become a hero
to those who would like to see marijuana legalized.

Interviewed in Toronto recently, Berton said he did the TV spot
"because they asked me."

Did he inhale?

No. Not on the show, but, "I used to," he replied, with a
chuckle.

Although Berton, who just launched his 50th book, dismisses his
televised advice to "high" rollers as a spoof, he's serious about the
message conveyed.

"I'm so upset about the stupid marijuana laws anyway," he said. "I
wanted to strike a blow for freedom."

As far as he's concerned, marijuana should be treated just like booze.

"We're putting more money into searching out marijuana users than we
are into searching out child molesters," he said.

Ever the historian, Berton continued, "I think we should do exactly
what the Americans did [when they repealed prohibition in 1933.]
Before that bill came in, you couldn't buy a drink. Drinking was
considered evil. They had the worst kind of prohibition, which
resulted in a criminal class of enormous numbers. We're getting the
same thing here. And I want to see it stopped."

Dramatic pause. "Hell, there's worse things than smoking a
joint."

That said, "I wouldn't write a line under the influence of either
booze or marijuana. I think it does affect your judgment, relaxes you,
which is a bad thing for a writer trying to get a book done. And it
confuses you. I wouldn't use it except for recreational purposes."

Not everyone was pleased when Berton's Monday Report gambit aired
(coincidentally) the day after a $12.5-million library was named in
his honour in Vaughan, Ont., not far from Toronto. At the library
opening, he added fuel to the fire by telling parents to mind their
own business and let kids read whatever trash they wanted.

But he's not ducking for cover.

"I don't give a goddamn what I say any more," he said, his voice
rising to that familiar Berton crescendo. "I've reached the age where
I can say anything I want and nobody pays any attention anyway. It's a
feeling of freedom. And I enjoy it."

Berton continues to wear the trademark bow tie of his Front Page
Challenge days. But at 84, he's a thinner man, poignantly fragile, and
in need of a cane or a wheelchair to get around.

Since Prisoners of the North was launched a few weeks ago, he has
insisted this is his last book. Over a tuna sandwich, however, he
qualified that.

"If I came across a subject I wanted to write about and it didn't take
too much research ... ." In other words, no more Canadian history
books. But another bit of fluff like his Cats I Have Known and Loved
might be a possibility. Still, "I think 50 books is enough for
anybody," he said. "And I've reached a stage in life where I have
several infirmities which are causing me problems and slowing me down.
I need a lot more sleep than I used to and that takes a lot of time."

A Berton historical tome along the lines of Prisoners of the North,
which includes five mini-biographies of colourful characters
associated with northern Canada, takes him about one year for the
research, another for the writing. "And some of them are much longer
than that," he said. All of them are typed out, two-finger style, on
an electric typewriter. Berton avoids the computer and having once
tried dictation, says it just doesn't work -- for him. "You tend to
become too verbose," he explained. "It isn't tight enough. It isn't a
writer's method."

Choosing his five subjects wasn't easy, he said. All are people he's
come across in past archival forays. He started with a longer list,
eliminated two or three, then added a couple, including poet Robert
Service, a special favourite. Berton grew up across the street from
Service's cabin in Dawson City.

"I wanted people who were characters in themselves, but who were also
obsessed by the North," he said.

If only one of them is a woman, it's because the Yukon was very much a
man's country, Berton said. And some obvious choices, like politician
Martha Munger Black, whom Berton knew personally, had already been
well documented elsewhere. Another, whose name did not readily come to
his mind, had been eliminated because Barbara Sears, his faithful
research assistant, had dismissed her as "second-rate." Lady Jane
Franklin, wife of the explorer, won out.

Yes, Berton listens to the women around him, especially Sears, his
agent Elsa Franklin, and most of all his beloved Janet, mother of his
eight children (latest grandchild count: 14).

The subject of legacy doesn't interest Berton much. "I don't give a
damn what happens after I'm dead," he said earlier.

But his eyes lit up when we talked about the Pierre Berton House
writer's retreat in Dawson City. Chosen writers get to live in his
home digs rent-free, plus $2,000 a month for three months. Duties?
None.

"They don't have to do anything. That's my rule," he said. Since 1996,
20 books have been conceived there.

Prisoners of the North, by Pierre Berton, Doubleday Canada, 317 pages,
$39.95.