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One-Stop Shopping

Julie Wilson of Seen Reading fame is curating a pretty cool thing for National Poetry Month (or NaPoMo, for those in the know): 30 poets (including yrs truly), reading two poems each (one of their own and one cover) in 30 days. And more:

30 in 30 from Seen Reading on Vimeo.

What's That Word Again?

Just read this article that Dan Wells posted over at Thirsty. It made Dan think of short fiction. It made me think of something else. It's on the tip of my tongue. Oh, what could it be?

Tom, Dick 'n' Harry

Sometimes, they just pop in randomly to drop an off-topic list of proper nouns.

More Goodyear

Gary Goodyear is proving to be a font of bungled English. Turns out he does believe in evolution after all, but he doesn't understand what it is. I think the word you're looking for is adaptation, Mr. Minister. Either that, or he subscribes to Lamarckian theory...

"it increases the problem."

More religious idiocy.

"we have to do discovery"

Looks like we need to add Gary Goodyear to James Moore on the list of Ministers with the Wrong Portfolios.

Review online

My review of Margaret Avison's posthumous collection Listening is now up at the Quill & Quire site.

In which Robin Robertson is asked some dumb questions...

...and gives them precisely what they deserve.

There are three poets from Canada

A facebook status update by Edward Nixon this morning alluded to there being three poets from Canada, according to the illustrious Poetry Foundation. I looked it up and sure enough. You'll never guess who they are.

A Magazine that James Moore Can't Kill

Just got word that Rhythm Poetry Magazine, an online outfit affiliated with the Dalhousie University English Department (from which I graduated, migawd, 10 years ago), will be publishing four of my poems in May. Editor Mary Kathryn Arnold asked me to pass on the word to anyone writing metrical verse that Rhythm welcomes your submissions. You can also join the Facebook group.

The four poems they're taking are all from my forthcoming collection, Track & Trace, due out with Biblioasis in the fall. I handed in the ms. a few weeks ago and am told I should be getting an edit back before too long. I'm very glad not only to be publishing with Biblioasis, but to be working with Carmine Starnino as editor, moonlighting from his regular gig at Signal Editions. If anyone can catch the gaffes in the thing and tighten its strings, 'tis he. Colleagues and friends in this racket don't come much better than Dan Wells and Carmine. Cheers, gentlemen.

Open Letter to James Moore, Minister of Canadian Heritage

Dear Mr. Moore,

I'm writing to you as a concerned Conservative. I am troubled by the recent news that your department plans to change the funding paradigm for Canadian magazines. In particular, I think the idea of restricting funding to magazines with a subscription base of 5000 or more is a serious mistake. Why so? Because of what it will do to the artists, Mr. Moore.

Now, I imagine your office has already been inundated with letters decrying this potential deathblow to small arts and literary magazines. Personally, I could care less about the fate of these rags, filled as they are with the noodlings and doodlings of pretentious fifth-rate phonies. But the continued existence of these magazines serves a very important pragmatic purpose, which I think your party has lost sight of in its zeal to return money to people and corporations that already have it--and why not, they've earned it after all!--and take it away from wobbly, weak-kneed calves suckling at the public teat.

What purpose, you wonder? It's very simple, Mr. Moore: they keep the artists busy, complacent and quiet. You see, the "average Canadian" so prized by Mr. Harper isn't even aware of the existence of these magazines, much less is he reading them. In third world countries and totalitarian regimes, however, the artists, marginalized by the state, have the public's ears and eyes. They have real influence. And they are generally not in favour of the status quo. They cause trouble. They spark opposition. They foment unrest. They are dangerous people, Mr. Moore--and in Canada they do not like your party and its aims.

As long as the government throws artists--dogs that they are--the odd scrap and bone, they heel nicely, without being asked. They argue amongst themselves about matters of no public consequence. They circulate in their ghettoes in near-perfect isolation from the average Canadian. They compete fiercely with each other for the meagre funds available. They publish their little magazines that aren't even read by other artists. They whine occasionally about not being appreciated, but aren't sufficiently motivated to do anything real about it.

If you start taking this appeasement away, Mr. Moore, all you will be doing is kicking a sleeping dog in the ribs. Poets and playwrights will turn to satire, sculptors and painters will produce grotesque nude effigies of your leader (they will not be kind to his manly bits), folk singers will start writing protest songs instead of celebrating the faded glories of their piece of rural heaven. They will acquire an edge. They will gain relevance. Their ideas and images will begin to infect the public, as they will have to take public presentation of their work into their own hands with no more subsidized outlets available. And your party's government, barely scraping by as it is, will be defeated.

Nobody wants that, Mr. Moore. As Mr. Harper is always saying, Canadians--40% of them!--voted for a Conservative government. Conservatives, as the name implies, do best to leave things the way they are. Please, sir, believe me, depriving the little magazines of their piddly pittance is a very bad idea. For the love of all that's holy, hands off and laissez-faire, don't piss off the poets.

Sincerely yours,


Zachariah Wells,
Vancouver



PS: When I clicked on the link to your email address, the subject line "Hi James!" came up automatically. Please, sir, have some dignity. You're a cabinet minister.

Along with some good I had borrowed from Heine a quality which did not become me at that stage of life: a habit of speaking about everything ironically. This complicated my relations with my friends, who did not appreciate irony, especially bad irony. I became ruthless towards sentimentality, like so many people in their early twenties. The reasons for this phase is comprehensible enough. It is that a young man is keenly aware of his feelings and at the same time unsure of them. His awareness of them makes him despise conventional emotion, which seems a caricature, and his unsureness makes him distrust deep emotion in case it should be false. He needs a standard of criticism, and, not having it, falls back on sarcasm. Heine had initiated me into the art of feeling and laughing at my feelings; but if one laughs long enough the feeling dwindles, and the laughter usurps its place, until there is very little left to laugh at, unless one manufactures it.

--Edwin Muir, An Autobiography

James Moore's Little Blue Choo-choo

Rob Taylor has written a delightfully funny letter to Heritage Minister James Moore about the planned revisions to magazine funding. Alas, this will probably just reinforce the neocons impression of artists as delinquent reprobates, but I think this sort of humorous defiance is way better than, say, the hand-wringing earnestness of Yann Martel. It's got a few ideas brewing in my ol' noggin now...

BC Book Prizes

A little late on this, but the BC Book Prizes shortlists were announced t'other day. Great to see Elise Partridge on the poetry shortlist--but where the hell is Matt Rader's Living Things? Instead, we have the supremely boring oldguard avant-garde stalwarts Marlatt and Stanley and a book published by Frontenac House, whom I've never seen publish a book that wouldn't justly be rejected by a first-tier press. Are these crappy things in her book? Boo.

Also, no love for Anything But Hank!, alas. We had high hopes for this book in terms of nominations, mainly because of Eric Orchard's awesome artwork. Of course, we didn't make the Atlantic shortlist in part because Eric's other book was nominated. Oh well.

Best leave this to the professionals, son.

Russell Smith inveighs against the bitter, twisted Amazon critic. A bunch of unwashed nobodies respond.

Steven Beattie deals with the same subject, only much better.

Just in case you thought the government was wasting your money on my writing grants...

The Teddies. $40,000 for a flying banana. 'Nuf said.

"It's not just the lowbrow, it's the quiet"

Bookninja has posted a terrific interview with Adam Sol about his recent book Jeremiah, Ohio, one of my favourite books of the last few years.

Cruisin' the Hershey Highway

Germaine Greer on sodomy.

Une Pensée

God in the 21st C: all that and a bag of chips.

No Way, Man

Brian Palmu goes to town on Tom Wayman's most recent book.

I couldn't agree more, but didn't have the space to get into it with any gusto. Wayman might just be the worst poet in Canada with a substantial reputation. But there's a lot of competition, so I won't say that definitively.

My new favourite photo of the boy

More on Mag Funding

Speaking of CNQ and how good it is, herewith an impassioned--and informative--post from Dan Wells on the threatened kneecapping of small magazines and how it will affect our mag in particular. If you haven't yet written to your MP, the Heritage minister, Heritage critics et al, please do so. Even self-proclaimed conservative Dr. Ursus has written to the PM.

CNQ Best of the Rack

Thanks to Lyle Neff for pointing out that James Adams of the Globe & Mail has highlighted the new issue of CNQ--and particularly Steven W. Beattie's take on last year's Giller shortlist--as being one of the best reads on the Rack. Nice.

The City of Vancouver Wants You

My nomination would be Elizabeth Bachinsky. Can't think of anyone in town better suited for the job. But apply away, you crazy Vancouver poets, you.

Only 1 week remains until the deadline, please submit your applications postmarked before March 11, 2009.

City of Vancouver Poet Laureate - Call for Expressions of Interest

The City of Vancouver is requesting submissions for the position of Poet Laureate. The Poet Laureate position was created in December 2006 and the successful applicant will be the City's second Poet Laureate. The Poet Laureate must be a Vancouver resident.

Please see the Vancouver Verse website for details: http://www.vancouververse.ca/2ndPoetCall.html

Deadline for expressions of interest - March 11, 2009

Hard copy expressions of interest should be sent to:

City of Vancouver Poet Laureate Selection Committee Library Administration
7th Floor
Vancouver Public Library
350 West Georgia St.
Vancouver, British Columbia
Canada, V6B 6B1

Canada Continues to Read

I've not bothered posting anything about the Canada Reads proceedings to-date for a few reasons. 1)I've read none of the books. 2)Steven Beattie and Alex Good have been doing a bang-up job over at TSR. 3)It's all about fiction and I have little interest in contemporary fiction, per se. Not that I don't ever read it and haven't enjoyed some works of it, I just don't have the time or energy to sift thru it looking for the best of it.

But I still tuned in to all episodes this week. I think it was a particularly weak year. I don't think Jian Ghomeshi did a very good job hosting it. As Steven and Alex have pointed out, he wasn't exactly an impartial mediator. He also asked a lot of questions that led to inevitably trite and repetitive answers. I also found the repeated insistence on the commercial impact of the show needlessly crass. But all the blame can't rest on him. The champions, on the whole, didn't seem all that well chosen and were content for the most part to wallow in generalizations and feelgood vagaries. There was caginess, particularly on the part of Avi Lewis and Jen Sookfong Lee, but very little by way of eloquent--or even accurate--testimony on the books' behalf. Hardly any quotes from the books were provided over the course of the week. We heard that Adamson had the best prose, but we heard none of the prose itself. This seems a significant shortcoming when you're talking about supposedly literary books.

And tho I haven't read any of the books, as I said, The Book of Negroes was hanging out in my apartment for a couple of weeks while Rachel read it, and I was subjected to numerous "listen to this" recitations of incredibly bad, cliche-drenched expository prose from it. Rachel did finish the book because the subject matter's of interest to her--she said that she could see the seams where Hill was integrating material from non-fiction books she'd read on the topic--but hated every minute of it. I don't see how the other books could have been worse than this one. Style isn't everything in a novel, but a total dearth of it has to be damning at a certain point. (Then again, MG Vassanji keeps winning awards...) The book's style never came up once, at least not in any substantive way, during the debates. And it won. And it's a bestseller. And it won the Commonwealth Prize. It's got an awful lot of miles out of its gripping subject matter.

I like the idea of this kind of round-robin discussion of different books, but it doesn't seem that the "Survival" format's any more conducive to picking a good book than any other prize jury. The only book from Canada Reads '09 I'm likely to check out is Tremblay's. But better to read it in French. I've read and/or seen performed two of his plays, Bonjour là, bonjour and Les belles soeurs, and the language he uses is so much the point of his writing--unlike Hill, who seems deaf and indifferent to linguistic felicity--that it's exceptionally difficult to translate without losing a great deal of the original's elan. One could imagine a typical paragraph of Hill's, on the other hand, actually being improved in translation. Say, into a film. Or, better yet, a mini-series! Cha-ching!

I think they should really do one of these Canada Reads with a panel of experts. Bring in Philip Marchand, Zsuzsi Gartner (a past participant), Steven Beattie, Alex Good and Stephen Henighan. Now that would be an interesting discussion.

Site back online

On the off chance that someone out there's been jonesing for my website, it's back online now that the domain's renewed. Took longer than it should have. I know I was sick of that antiseptically pretty blonde girl that came up instead of my ugly mug.

Poem Online

My poem "Rhythm" is now online at Riddle Fence. Check it out. The RF site has an automatically generated "possibly related link" feature. For mine, it's a blog post about the movie Apollo 13. I was mystified by this until I realized that both the post and my poem contain the word "shuttle." Ah, polysemy.

This poem, along with another, "To the Superb Lyrebird, That Cover Band of the Australian Bush," will both be appearing in the print issue of Riddle Fence. Can't wait to see it.

SAGE COUNSEL FOR UNCERTAIN TIMES

for Art Moore

Listen to wisdom. Ignore bum advice.

Bad plan to borrow. Likewise to lend.

Don’t wear jackboots when you’re crossing thin ice.

Spend what you get and get what you spend.

Steer clear of the poor. Don’t piss off the rich.

If the glass is half empty, drink it quick.

Keep your stick up and your pickup out of the ditch.

Feed on the healthy, abandon the sick.

Don’t leave any gas when you siphon the tank.

Take out insurance on your aging mother.

Win the lottery. Hold up a bank.

Buy her down pillows in hopes that she smother.

Don’t fight a war on more than one front.

And never kick a gift horse in the cunt.

Fun With Acrostics

I have a bit of a weakness for acrostics. Formally, you can't really get much more intentional than an acrostic. This is the first accidental acrostic--and oh, what a place for it!--I've ever seen. Thanks to Franklin Carter for pointing it out on a discussion thread at Bookninja.

Fisherverse

A pretty cool story in the NYT about a gathering of "fisher poets." If some of the verse sounds wretched--but really, not much worse than the Andrew Motion poems I linked to previously--it doesn't sound half as bad as the wide-eyed comments of the non-fishers present:

“I have to set aside my English-teacher hat now and then,” said Fred Chancey, recently retired from Chemeketa Community College in Salem, Ore., who showed up for the second year in a row, just to listen. “But a lot of it is really good stuff. I like the blue-collar school of poetry.”

My, how enlightened! Or how about:

“This is the closest I’ve been to a boat like this,” said Ted Osborn, an architect who, with his wife Wendy, is waiting for their new retirement home overlooking the Columbia to be completed. “We lived for 30 years in Southern California, where pretentiousness is king. This place is much more real.”

Oh, Ted and Wendy, please tell me what you mean by this horrific cliché. Perhaps you can contemplate the matter in your no-doubt ostentatious riverside retirement home.

There have, of course, been fishermen who have produced really good poetry. Scottish poet WS Graham is probably the best known. We've got a couple of good 'uns here, too, in Tim Bowling--whose work is frustratingly uneven, but sizzles at its best--and Joe Denham. Bowling hasn't fished in years, but Denham's still at it, working out of Sechelt. I have the feeling that, besides mending traps in the off-season, he's working on some good poems. It's been six years since his first book, Flux, was launched. It was uneven, probably, like most of our first books, mine included, published too early--but the best work in it's excellent, and quite unlike anything else published in this country.

How Ninjas Work

A very nice reading, by Nigel Beale, of George Murray's poem "Hunter," is up at the Arc site. They've screwed up the formatting, as you can see by Beale's reference to the "unrhymed couplets." This made for an interesting reading for me; I think it works better without the stanza breaks. All of the poems in The Hunter are in unrhymed couplets or tercets and those stanzaic forms often struck me as flaws in the book, as they seemed arbitrarily super-imposed, working at cross-purposes to the headlong momentum of many of the poems. Beale also picks out what I see as the only significant hiccup in the galloping drive of this otherwise exceptionally good poem.

UPDATE: Since I posted, they've fixed the formatting. I still think it's better without stanza breaks.

Another Barfily Cute Baby Video

Silliman in Motion

Ron Silliman "goes negative" on Andrew Motion's ass. With good reason. Plenty good reason. I've never read a book of Motion's, in large part because the poems I've read here and there--generally in anthologies or on sites like the ones linked above, in which the poems selected are presumably indicative of his best efforts--have been so thoroughly underwhelming. If the laureateship led to a decline in his productivity as a poet, I can't say that the reading public is any the poorer for it.

Eric Orchard and Lillian Shepherd

Learned today that Eric Orchard, the uber-talented illustrator of Anything But Hank!, has been shortlisted for the Lillian Shepherd Award for illustration. Alas, it's for another of his books, but wonderful news nonetheless. Congrats, Eric!

Humpy McDimplemitts

Fear of a Black Stapler

Millington won't be assigned desk duties, as he is very afraid he might get a paper cut as a result.

Keep on Neggin' in the Free World

Harking back to the debate about negative reviewing that started on Squandermania and spilled on to other blogs, the full text of Jason Guriel's review (the opening of which sparked the discussion) is now up at Poetry. Really not all that controversial, but some interesting discussion follows it. I particularly like the point made by one commenter about short reviews vs. long reviews. As someone who has written, and continues to write, both, I know exactly what he's talking about. You really have to boil things down in a short review; there's no space for nuanced contemplation and not much potential for bona fide literary criticism. The short form has its satisfactions, but often frustrates me, particularly when it comes to books about which I feel ambivalent. A longer review gives me the chance to work out and explain (to myself, as well as to readers of the review) my mixed feelings, whereas a short review of the same book can come off sounding equivocally tepid or, worse I think, can lean more in one direction than the reviewer actually wants it to.* Some books I just like so much that I want to quote more and really get into what makes them hum. Canadian Notes & Queries continues to be a haven for the 2000+ word review. I have no interest in publishing brief reviews and am usually disappointed if a reviewer hands in a perfunctory 7 or 800 words. Even in 2000 worders, I find I'm often prompting the reviewer to expand on one point or another. But, given that we have a payment ceiling, I can't really blame reviewers for not wanting to go deep. Vita brevis and all that.


*An illuminating contrast from my own work is my 350 word review of Peter Sanger's Aiken Drum vs. the 9000 word essay I wrote on his work. The former was written in the midst of the latter, and was I think unduly influenced by it. At any rate, I think the short review dwelt more on the faults of the book than it should have, given the scope of the review. Not that I disagree with what I said, just that I didn't adequately represent the range of what I thought of the book, which made the praise at the end seem perfunctory.

Bibliorgy

Did someone say FREE?

Vendler on Armitage

Helen Vendler has written a lengthy review of Simon Armitage's latest book, Tyrannosaurus Rex Vs. the Corduroy Kid. The review, and especially the book, which was published by Anansi hereabouts, are both worth a good look. Of younger (sub-50) poets working in English, Armitage is one of the few bona fide contenders for the mantle of major poet. I haven't read all his books, but each of the four books I've read has amazing poems in it. There are very few poets with the combination of craft, vision and civic engagement possessed by Armitage. Vendler says something about hoping his popularity won't prove too distracting. I don't think it's a real concern with him, somehow; if he was going to get a big head, it would've happened by now.

Thousands of Poets We Just Can't Do Without

An interesting insider look at grade inflation, myth-making and niche marketing in contemporary American po-world.

(from Squandermania)

Best Poetry Book Title...

...and cover image combo EVER.

The Essential Don Coles (The Porcupine’s Quill)

Edited by Robyn Sarah - 64 pages, sewn paper, $10.95

"All those things which we require of poetry – intelligence, illumination, pleasure in the placing of one surprising word beside another, sudden unexpected deepenings of feeling – all these are present in Don Coles' fine poems... Furthermore, they are rich in content as well as in reflection, and in those qualities which we admire in our fellow humans as much as we do in literature: tenderness, affection, humility, respect, courage."

- Carol Shields

The Essential Poets series aims to provide the best possible introduction to a preeminent Canadian poet, by selecting poems that carry the essence of an individual poetic sensibility as it evolves over time. Each volume includes an editor’s foreword, a bibliography, and a thumbnail biography of the poet. The series is based on the ‘less is more’ premise that a smaller selection of poems fosters deeper reading and re-reading, and that the full pleasure of poetry is to be found in the poems one has lingered over and lived with for a while.

Toronto Launch on Tuesday, March 24

5:30 – 7:30 p.m. at Ben McNally Books, 366 Bay Street

Please join us if you can. And please forward to Toronto-area friends who might be interested.

To order book: Ben McNally (416) 361-0032

or direct from The Porcupine’s Quill (519) 833-9158

I was going for something along the lines of "The Villainous Poetry Critic"

...but apparently they don't make super heroes that lame.

THIRTEEN WAYS OF LOOKING AT A COWBIRD

I
Among twenty lowing Holsteins,
The only moving things
Were the flies and the cowbird.

II
I was of three minds,
Like a nest
In which there are six eggs.

III
The cowbird whirled in the autumn winds.
It was a small part of the pantomime.

IV
A male cowbird and a female cowbird
Are one.
A male cowbird and a female cowbird and a finch
Are one.

V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The cowbird screaming
Or just after.

VI
Icicles filled the long window
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the cowbird
Was nowhere to be seen.

VII
O thin men of Haddam,
Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the cowbird
Pecks around the feet
Of the cattle about you?

VIII
I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the cowbird isn’t involved
In what I don’t know.

IX
When the cowbird flew out of sight,
It sought the edge
Of one of many nests.

X
At the sight of cowbirds
Flying in a green light,
Even the bards of phony
Would cry out sharply.

XI
He rode over Connecticut
In a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage
For cowbirds.

XII
The river is moving.
The cowbird must be fleeing.

XIII
It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The cowbird sat
In Mexican cedar-limbs.

John Cooper Clarke - Chickentown 2

Et une autre...

John Cooper Clarke - Chickentown

Another version of this poem, a bit cleaner than the one I've got. And a whole lot quicker.

Evidently Chicken Town

In celebration of Freedom to Read Week, I thought I'd read you a fucking poem:

Mucking about with software and mic

Red in Tooth and Claw

In case you think the poetry reviewing world is cut-throat...

What's Good for GM

Another lovely nugget from the minority government that wouldn't be.

Une Pensée

Negative Review: n. Critical writing in which the text is white and the background black.

David Orr on Greatness

Here is the essay by David Orr quoted in the negative review discussion I posted. The whole thing is well worth a read.

Orr's piece reminds me of another favourite poet of Ashbery's--and of mine--John Clare, a poet in many ways similar in sensibility to Elizabeth Bishop: a poet who values a close look at a small thing more than the windy effusions of ego favoured by his elder contemporary, Wordsworth the Great. (Not that Clare couldn't turn on the rhetoric when he wanted to.) The ambition is more humble, and for a long time Clare's work was neglected and ignored, or dismissed as quirky. But lately he seems to be one of the most talked-about of the Romantics. He's certainly my favourite. I think he's pretty great. Bishop too.

I think Orr's a bit too broadstroke about Lowell. Like Ashbery, Lowell wrote a great many disposable poems. But he did leave behind a fair clutch of amazingly good work, too. The little Selected published by Faber, edited by Michael Hoffmann, is probably a better place to read Lowell than in his doorstopper of a Collected.

UPDATE: A roundup of responses to Orr's article. But really, I'm just linking to this for the video.

Call to Arms

Okay, so regular readers of CLM know that yours truly isn't exactly bleeding heart about funding for the arts. I believe that the government of a democratic society should provide financial support for unremunerative artistic endeavours, but I dislike many of the ways in which said funds are disbursed, and I dislike the self-absorbed sense of entitlement evinced by a good many soi-disant artists who seem to think they are owed a living.

I also dislike the rather naive argument routinely trotted out when funding cuts happen or are threatened: that the arts are good for the economy. Why do I dislike this? Because only some arts are good for the economy; if we're going to determine funding on a case by case basis in terms of potential return on investment, a lot of the things we value would get zip, zero, zilch.

Something I learned of today confirms that I'm right about this. Quill & Quire reports that a new rationalised funding programme for magazines introduced by the Heritage dept. of the Conservative government will result in mags with fewer than 5000 subscribers getting no funding. That will include every literary magazine in the country. Some of these mags probably shouldn't be receiving as much moola as they do, but this has nothing at all to do with their subscription base. This is absolutely the wrong way to go about redistributing the monies allotted to magazines.

CNQ, the magazine I work for, will lose $10,000, according to the publisher. They already don't have enough money in the budget to pay me for my editorial work. A hit like that will drastically affect the way the magazine operates. It will affect production values, frequency, page count, contributor payments, etc.

Fortunately, these new guidelines are not in effect yet and there seems to be some optimism that the Heritage dept. can be headed off at the pass. A quick, strong and broad response is needed. Write to the Minister. Write to your MP.

Neggin' out

Bit of a discussion going on about the value of a skeptical approach to book reviewing.

UPDATE: Brian Palmu responds.

UPDATE II: Brenda Schmidt responds.

Don Share...

...posts the best quotes.

Christopher Hitchens Beaten Up by Skinheads

Peace-Loving Liberals Celebrate.

More Awards Shenanigans

So the Commonwealth Prize shortlists have been announced. One of the Canadian authors shortlisted is married to one of the judges. Can't wait to hear about how this isn't a conflict of interest.

UPDATE: Thanks to Steven Beattie for posting this link. Apparently, Dr. Banting had nothing to do with Mr. Stenson's book being on the shortlist and will have nothing to do with whether it wins or loses. Prize administrator Jennifer Sobol has been quoted as saying you can "stick a needle in [her] eye" if this ain't so.

Play

Jason Guriel has a very nice reading of a poem by Suzanne Buffam over at the Harriet blog.

Praise Song for the Not-Lame

A while back, I suggested that Martin Espada would have made a much better inaugural poet than Elizabeth Alexander. Re-reading his occasional elegy/praise song "Alabanza" today, I was reminded of just how much can be done in this mode by a poet not hamstrung by a) a lack of native ability and b) a desire to cater to the common denominators of a crowd and the goodwill of the powers that be. To those who defend Alexander's poem as a piece of democratic plain speech, as opposed to high-falutin ivory tower poetic esoterica, I would say that "Alabanza" is plain speech par excellence, in that fine American tradition inaugurated by Whitman: plain speech with rhetorical verve, with rhythmic propulsion, with emotional valence. Espada's poem is written to people, whereas Alexander's was written about a subject. "Alabanza" soars, whereas "Praise Song for the Day" shuffles, stutters and sinks. Apparently, she's said she'll never read it again. Smart move.

Wells Retires

Yes, that's right folks, I'm hangin' up the cleats to spend more time with my family and pursue my budding literary career. Thanks to all my fans for the outpouring of support in this time of transition.

Happy 100th, Abraham

This year, were he still alive, AM Klein, one of Canada's most significant and verbally inventive poets would have turned one hundred. Two days ago, I believe. I love a lot of Klein poems, but none so much as "Heirloom."

Hear me read it:

VILLANELLE OF THE SERIAL SPERM DONOR

I have sired more young than Genghis Khan.

I went into a room with a cup and magazine.

I haven’t ever met a single one.

I did it for a dollar, I thought it might be fun.

I didn’t think, at first, that it would mean

I’d sire more young than Genghis Khan.

Spread out my offspring on a lush suburban lawn,

You wouldn’t see one little blade of green—

But I’ve never met a single one.

At any given moment, twenty ovens, twenty buns

Rising like the beanstalk from the bean.

I have sired more young than Genghis Khan.

No one tells me where it is that all my seed has gone.

It’s just as well, they’re only genes.

I don’t ever want to meet a single one.

I like to go to bars at night, I like to cruise for cun.

I really dig the swingin’ singles scene.

I have sired more young than Genghis Khan.

I don’t think I’ve ever met a single one.

James Langer's Bushcraft

I recently had the opportunity to review the galleys of Gun Dogs, the forthcoming debut collection by James Langer. I can't say much about it here, as my review's not published yet and nor is the book, but I think you should check it out when it is. Here's his poem "Bushcraft."

Jack Pine: The Opera

Rachel, Kaleb and I headed over to North Vancouver yesterday to attend the grand opening of Jack Pine, an opera for children based on the book by Christopher Patton. The libretto and music were written by Veda Hille, who is a musical favourite in this household.

The opera was alright, but we came away with the impression that Chris's text wasn't ideally suited to adaptation. The best element of the show was the core part, which used Chris's poem. The story built around the poem felt like ... a story built around a poem. There was also a lot of "educational" content about trees that was more didactic than lyrical. The thing as a whole was a bit long for young kids. (Tho it should be said that K almost made it thru the whole thing without fussing.)

The book, which we bought in the lobby, is a thing of beauty, both the text and Cybèle Young's artwork. I highly recommend it.

A wee lesson in demographics

In the Globe and Mail, Cormorant Books publisher Marc Coté laments the fact that only 20% of books purchased by Canadians are Canadian-authored. He blames this on "colonialism" on the part of the UK and "protectionism" on the part of the US. He says nothing about Franco-Canadians and France, which seems a significant oversight. One can understand how these factors would affect sales of Canadian books outside of Canada, but it's unclear how they are supposed, in Coté's mind, to be hampering domestic sales.

This needs, rather badly, to be put into statistical perspective. The population of Canada is about 33 million. The combined populations of the UK, US, Ireland, Australia, New Zealand and France: 465 million. So our population is less than 7% of the grand total of almost 500 million people. Hm, 7% is a lot less than 20%. Interesting. Could it be that, pace persistent nationalist rhetoric, Canadian books actually over-achieve in their domestic sales? Seems like it. Especially when you consider just how many of our people come from other countries and have mother tongues other than English or French. Especially when you consider that the language spoken and read by the majority of Canadians is the world-dominant language.

Coté is right to complain about subsidies not keeping up with inflation. That should be fixed, if it's so. But I wish he wouldn't bemoan the cosmopolitan tastes of Canadian readers. It's a bit ... provincial. I'm gonna go back to reading my Faulkner novel now.

Love, Lobster Lust and Bad Luck

Here's the audio from my reading last night, graciously hosted by Jane Mellor and The Writers' Studio.

From the People Who Brought You Such Things as the Weekend

It sounds as though, after 35 years of operation, the Writers' Union of Canada is finally going to start performing some of the functions of a union. It's kind of ridiculous how many leagues, associations, federations and unions for writers there are out there. I've never joined one, in part because I share Groucho Marx's view of clubs that would have me as a member, but also because I've never seen any benefit in membership. At least none commensurate with the annual fees. But I would like to retire from the labour force in another five years or so (right about the time that I'd have to start working year round on the railroad); if TWUC has bona fide medical and pension plans by then, I might actually consider signing up. All the other parliaments of fowls would do well to fold themselves into TWUC to eliminate redundancy and maximise benefits to members. But I imagine there's way too much territorial pissing for that to ever happen. Another problem is that TWUC, for reasons known only to its legislators, does not admit writers who haven't published a book. So if you're a full-time freelancer, as of right now, you're shit out of luck. But if you're a crappy poet whose book was published by your best friend, come on in. If they're serious about getting medical and pension plans started, they really need to drop the arbitrary exclusion criteria.

Something in this story I found bemusing is the statement that some 3000 "writers" declared no earnings from their writing. How can someone report this without commentary? I wonder how many "gardeners" found themselves in a similar predicament. At some point, you have to stop pretending that your past-time is your occupation. It's figures like that that make me very damn skeptical of statistical surveys on such things. 3000 zeros skew the numbers pretty damn badly.

What makes for a good reading?

A thoughtful blog post at the Guardian on the good, the bad and the ugly in poetry reading, with lots of links to various poets reading their work. One of the links is to this recording of Wallace Stevens reading "The Idea of Order at Key West." Very different from my oral interpretation of the piece:

FOREVER YOUNG

Patricia & Terence Young, live at the UBC bookstore, Feb. 12 2009.

HARD TIMES

You can tell it’s hard times for the arts

By how many buskers are out hustling

Quarters on street corners. You can tell

By their bewildered looks, the exceeding

Refinement of their style and their swell

Manners that they are unaccustomed

To such crude environs and to the rude

Rebuffs of passers by with no intention

Of being detained. Pity the poor buggers,

Forced by the twin threats of starvation

And creditors, from their studios, stages

And pits out into the dinful, bustling

Market. They are such sensitive creatures—

Can’t you see how your lack of appreciation

For the nuances of their interpretations

Plunges them into sullen depression?

Can’t you see how brutal it is for them

To be grateful for the handful of change

You toss in their box as you stroll by?

Readings

I'm off to see the forever youthful duo of Patricia and Terence Young read tonight at the Robson Square bookstore. I'll see about bootlegging it, just for you.

And if you're in Vancouver, don't forget about my reading tomorrow night.

Palmu on the Couriers

Brian Palmu has reviewed Peter Richardson's recent book Sympathy for the Couriers in a very unorthodox manner: he goes thru the book poem by poem, giving us a paragraph or two on each. Lately, I'm so much more interested in talking about individual poems than collections; I guess this is one way to do both. Peter's poems deserve the attention and don't get it nearly enough, in my biased opinion. He got his start as a published poet late in the game, but he's miles ahead of most of his contemporaries, never mind mine. And related to the Birney quote I posted in my last entry, he spent a career as an Air Canada ramp hand. Maybe working for a living is good for poetry...

Get a Job

My advice to young Canadian writers is ... to take a temporary part-time job. It could even be in a university, especially in a Creative Writing course, so long as it is temporary or part-time. But better perhaps to fish salmon in the season and work on novels out of it it, as one ex-student of mine is doing; or run a rooming house and write plays for the CBC, which is how a young woman I know is managing both to live and to write what she wants; or take a nine-to-five banking job with no homework, as Raymond Souster has done.

--Earle Birney, "The Writer and His Education"

More on Academic Freedom

Stanley Fish weighs in on the Denis Rancourt situation. It would be helpful to get some kind of official statement from U of O at this point, because what is not at all clear is if they're trying to fire him because of giving all his students A+'s (or saying that he would do so) or because he's a thorn in their side. It's looking like they're going after him for the grading in the same way that the prosecutors here in BC are going after the Mormons for polygamy when what they really want them for is child abuse. In neither case does this seem like a smart move. If Rancourt has, as Fish says, repeatedly overstepped the boundaries of acceptable professional conduct, surely he needs to be disciplined for those things. A friend of mine in high school got expelled after being caught smoking off grounds. He wasn't expelled for being caught smoking, but for all the other things he'd done. He'd been warned that one more infraction would lead to expulsion. Has Rancourt received warnings, or have his bosses just expressed their frustrations to him and told him to behave? Is the grading an actual infraction? A prof got fired at UPEI a few years ago for offering a B- to students in exchange for them not showing up. His course (on the history of Christianity; perhaps this was a concrete lesson in the selling of indulgences...) was over-enrolled and there wasn't enough space for everyone to sit. Fair enough, but dealt with in an unethical way. What Rancourt has done doesn't seem at all the same. He wants the students there. He wants them to get more from their educational experience. He's going about his business in an oddball way, but jesus, universities are full of people who spout weird shit as if it were wisdom and ramble on ad nauseum about things only tangentially related--at best--to the curriculum. If you want to get rid of all the tenured profs who are nuts, you'll have to do a lot of firing and hiring.

This is kind of funny

That is, if you find dogs chewing off their own tails and gulls pecking out the eyeballs of live fish funny.

A Facade of Coherence

Thanks to Owen for sending me the link to this piece about the academic road less travelled: no letter grades. Maybe Alan Rock should take a look at this before he tries to shitcan the quixotic professor Denis Rancourt, who I posted about t'other day.

Dinosaurs

Thanks to Carmine for posting this awesome video by Leigh Kotsilidis, accompanying music by Mathias Kom and The Burning Hell.

I stayed at Leigh's place in October when I was in Montreal for the Jailbreaks launch. All the sets for the video, which she made herself, were in her hallway. So awesome to see the finished video.

Reading report

What a turnout for the Best Canadian Poetry launch last night. I'm glad I got there early because it was standing room only. The venue, Cafe Montmartre, is long and narrow and gets narrower as it gets longer, as the bar and kitchen are at the back. It's not a bad spot for a crowd of 20-25, but wasn't ideally suited for the 70 or so who turned up last night. They also weren't prepared logistically. I tried to order food and was told they weren't taking any more food orders. Alas.

Each poet read his or her poem from the book, along with 2 or 3 others. One highlight of the night was Amanda Lamarche, who had some of the best between-poem banter I've heard. She could be a stand-up comedian, I swear. The humour was a nice counterpoint to the pathos of the poems she read. Another was Matt Rader, who gave the best reading I've heard him do, of his outstanding poem "The Great Leap Forward," which he launched into with no preamble other than a quick witty joke about Amanda's reading. Matt's poem is one of the best in the anthology. He then read a poem by David O'Meara and sat down. Short and sweet. His reading and Amanda's made for a nice study in contrasts, how totally different approaches can both yield attention-grabbing performances. I also dug Yvonne Blomer's "The Roll Call to the Ark," a poem in two voices, which she read with her husband. There were some laughs in a couple of the poems read by Leanne Averbach, who reads very well. I wouldn't say they were terrific poems, but they were entertaining at least.

Leanne Averbach's band played after, but I had to go. Pretty hungry by this point and I can't stay out late these days: Kaleb shows no mercy in the morning. I would have recorded the reading, but I was near the back and all that would've come thru would have been kitchen sounds, unfortunately.

Best Canadian Poetry

Off tonight to the launch of The Best Canadian Poetry in English. I'll see if I can bootleg a tape of it. Here's the scoop:

Please join us in celebrating the launch of Tightrope Books’ new anthology series, The Best Canadian Poetry In English. This year’s collection of poetry, edited by Stephanie Bolster, is the first in an annual series showcasing poems published in Canadian literary journals. The evening’s festivities will include readings by contributors, and a performance of music and spoken word by Leanne Averbach & Indigo.

Saturday February 7th, 2009
7:00 pm (readings start at 7:30)
Montmartre Café
4362 Main Street
Vancouver
Free Admission

About the anthology:

From a long list of one hundred poems drawn from Canadian literary journals magazines, this year’s guest editor, award winning poet Stephanie Bolster, has chosen fifty of the best Canadian poems published in 2007. With this anthology readers, baffled by proliferating poems and poets, can for the first time tap into the remarkable and vibrant Canadian poetry scene. Readers are invited to explore the currents and cross-currents of poetry in a distinguished volume distilled by a round robin of esteemed editorial taste.

http://www.tightropebooks.com/anthology.html

Readings by:

Yvonne Blomer
Amanda Lamarche
Matt Rader
Keith Maillard
Joy Russell
Leanne Averbach
Maleea Acker
Anna Swanson

Leanne Averbach & Indigo:

FEVER with Leanne Averbach & Indigo is a sultry fusion of the spoken words of Vancouver/New York poet Leanne Averbach and the original blues/jazz accompaniment of Astrid Sars' band trio INDIGO.

http://www.leanneaverbach.com/index.html

CITRIC BITCH’S THINKING IS SHIT

Citric bitch thinks: “Litcrit is sick—I’ll fix it!”

Sic ‘im, citric bitch, sic ‘im!

Citric bitch is yipping.

Citric bitch isn’t biting.

Citric bitch is griping.

Citric bitch will instill civil chill.

Citric bitch will flip the switch.

Citric bitch will bring light.

Citric bitch picks fights with hicks.

Citric bitch will diss big dicks.

(Citric bitch digs chicks.)

Citric bitch will bin shrill critics.

Citric bitch will kill phillipics.

Citric bitch will still illicit shit-stirrings.

Citric bitch will dish shit-kickings.

Citric bitch will kick pricks.

Citric bitch will pick nits.

Citric bitch sips gin fizz with bigwigs.

Citric bitch slips in -isms.

Citric bitch is dripping gism.

Citric bitch is willing.

Citric bitch is shilling.

Citric bitch grips bills in fists.

Citric bitch is crisping fins.

Silly citric bitch, litcrit isn’t ill, it’s illin’.

Drink piss, dimwit citric bitch,

Kiss this critic’s nightstick!

EDIT: A NOTE ON THE TEXT