October 19, 2010
Two books I bought today
Harriet is receiving The Book About Moomin, Mymble and Little My for Christmas this year, after a recommendation from Charlotte. The book is published in English by the Drawn & Quarterly children’s imprint Enfant, and is really, truly a work of art. It is our introduction to Moominism, and if this book is any indication, I think I’m in love. The drawings are vivid, whimsical, and easy to get lost in, and the characters crawl through the story through a different hole in every page. I am also obsessed with the typography, and the translation from Swedish which still seems to rhyme absolutely perfectly. I look forward to reading this one to pieces.
Also, tonight I made the world’s shortest appearance 
at Amy Lavender Harris‘ book launch in order to congratulate her and pick up a long-awaited copy of Imagining Toronto. An expansive and almost exhaustive study of how Toronto has been rendered in its literature, how this city we know so well has been imagined by its writers. Harris writes, “Toronto is a city of stories that accumulate in fragments between the aggressive thrust of its downtown towers and the primordial dream of the city’s ravines. In these fragments are found narratives of unfinished journeys and incomplete arrivals, chronicles of all the violence, poverty, ambition and hope that give shape to this city and the lives laid down in it.”
September 26, 2010
Books, I've had a few. Regrets? Not lately.
I went out by myself on Saturday m0rning to check out The Victoria College Book Sale (whose half-price Monday is tomorrow, for anyone who’s interested). The plan, seeing as I have far more unread books that I have money, was to purchase a book or two, which was quite a different plan than in years past when I’ve purchased a book or twenty. Plan was also different than in the past, because I was attending on a full-price Saturday, having noticed in the past year or two that the Monday books are usually the same. And am I ever glad that I made the switch, because the books I came home with are absolutely wonderful, albeit slightly more numerous than two. (“But think of all the books I didn’t buy,” I pleaded as I walked in the door, so bookisly laden.)
Not one of the books I bought is aspirational and due just to collect dust on the shelf, or a book I’m unlikely to enjoy a great deal. I put much thought into my purchases, and just as much into the books I didn’t buy, and I’m happy with what I settled upon. I am extremely excited to dig into each of these.
I got Strong Poison by Dorothy L. Sayers, because it’s the Peter Wimsey novel that introduces Harriet Vane, and I’ve been led to expect fine things from it. I got True Lies by Mariko Tamaki, because she intrigues me and because it was radically mis-catalogued, and so it was fate that I found it at all. Next is Loitering with Intent by Muriel Spark, because reading The Comforters is only the beginning of my Muriel Spark career. Our Spoons Came From Woolworths by Barbara Comyns, which I know nothing about, except that a few other bloggers have read it, I like the title, and I’m fond of that Virago apple. Sloane Crosley I Was Told There Would Be Cake, because I can’t get enough of essays, it comes well-recommended (and there’s cake). Carol Shields’ play Departures and Arrivals, because unread Carol Shields is a precious, precious thing. Bronwen Wallace’s collection People You’d Trust Your Life To, just because it felt like the right book to buy. Michael Winter’s This All Happened because it is shocking that I haven’t read it yet. And finally, Jessica Grant’s collection Making Light of Tragedy, because she wrote Come Thou Tortoise and I’ve heard this book is even better.
Can you believe that discretion was actually exercised? Unbelievable, I know. Less so was exercised today at the Word on the Street Festival, where I purchased a fantastic back issue of The New Quarterly (the quite rare Burning Rock Collective Issue 91), and the Giller-longlisted Lemon by Cordelia Strube. Harriet also got to peek through the Polka Dot Door, and meet Olivia the Pig, and there were also a lot of dogs and balloons, which are two of her favourite things.
In other remarkable this weekend news, someone who was neither Stuart nor me put Harriet to bed last night, because I’d blown the dust off my high heels for our friends Kim and Jon’s wedding. We had the most wonderful time, not least because it was within walking distance (even in said high heels). The ceremony was lovely, the bride was stunning, groom was adoring, the venue was incredible (overlooking Philosopher’s Walk, with a view of the city skyline), great company, delicious dinner, too much wine, and then we got to dance, and had so much fun looking ridiculous. We walked home after midnight happy and holding hands, and I could hardly detect an autumn chill while wearing Stuart’s too-big-for-me jacket.
September 22, 2010
There is no such thing as a canon
All the books of my dreams are coming out in the UK this fall: I want to read Comfort and Joy by India Knight, Started Early, Took My Dog by Kate Atkinson, and Burley Cross Postbox Theft by Nicola Barker (which is epistolary and about a postbox, if a book could be so full to bursting). I am going to read Room by Emma Donaghue, which seemed like the most wretched book imaginable when I first heard of it, and I still think so, but too many intelligent readers have convinced me to go there anyway. I have just moved Alexander MacLeod’s Light Lifting (which I keep calling Lift Lighting in my head) up near the top of my to-be-read stack, due to his Giller nomination, and Robert Wiersema’s review. I am going to be rereading Nikolski, We Need to Talk About Kevin, and Small Ceremonies in the coming weeks. Also from the Giller longlist, I think I am going to read Lemon by Cordelia Strube, and the rest I’m not really fussed about. Because I already read This Cake is for the Party, and it was wonderful, and Jessa Crispin has given me permission to shrug off everything else: “There is no such thing as a canon — what you should read or want to read or will read out of obligation is determined as much by your history, your loves, and your daily reality as by the objective merits of certain works.” Rock on, and bring on the old dead British ladies then with their hideously outdated Penguin covers and pages smelling of must.
In others, I am going to the Victoria College Book Sale on Saturday, but with a budget (how novel) and also, I am obsessive-compulsively fiction writing lately, which is wonderful, because I thought I lost the knack with the advent of my child, but I’m at 10,000 words and haven’t yet thought about giving up because the whole piece sucks (and the thing about having once completed three drafts of a bad novel is that you learn that just barrelling through to the conclusion won’t necessarily work out okay in the end, but at this point I still feel like there might be some worth in bothering).
And also, there is a pie in my oven. And on Saturday, that oven will be replaced with a new one that doesn’t require a barbecue lighter to start.
September 19, 2010
Eden Mills 2010
The story I’ve already told twice today is about how last year we went to see the Fringe show at the Eden Mills Writers’ Festival, and how at the end of the set, I said, “I want to do that next year.” I also remarked, upon strapping our four month old baby back into her stroller, that I should also probably get around to cleaning the spit-up off her seat cushion, and I’m pleased to report now that I’ve accomplished 50% of my goals.
This afternoon I had the great pleasure of reading my story “You Can’t Run a Show on Stage Management Alone” to a crowd on a hillside that was far more crowded than I’d expected, and not just with my friends either (although they were there, of course, because they’re wonderful). I so appreciated my fellow readers, the Fringe organizers for such a fantastic initiative, the attentive audience with their very warm response, and also Stuart who kept Harriet from rolling down the hill and into the stream, and snapped photos with his free hand.
We had a wonderful day. The weather was perfect, except for about five minutes when it was a little bit cold. I got to hear my friend Patricia read AND to watch the kids in the audience respond so enthuasiastically to her presentation. Things went a little awry after this, as Stuart and I became obsessed with Harriet taking an afternoon nap, but she wasn’t having any of it. Not sure why we were so concerned– Harriet was happy enough and didn’t want to miss a moment of Eden Mills. We did manage to hear Carol Off read, and Karen Connelly in the final set. We bought organic ice cream, which was delicious. I visted The New Quarterly and Biblioasis, and bought Alexander McLeod’s [GILLER-LISTED!] short story collection Light Lifting. I also bought Marthe Jocelyn’s Eats for Harriet, who thought the book’s conclusion was totally perfect. Later I also Coach House and Toronto Poetry Vendors and gave them scones. I bought a Poetry Fortune Teller, which was a creation of Dani Couture.
We left the festival very happy, and disappointed only that the kids selling baking at the end of the road had run of snickerdoodles. Too late for that, but we were full of scones and ice cream, and Stuart and I got in the exact same fight we’d had last year when we drove past a pumpkin patch and I was insistent that we pull over and photograph the baby amongst the squashes, and in the end, once again, I was right, because the pictures are totally adorable.
September 17, 2010
See you at Eden Mills!
I will see you all at the Eden Mills Writers’ Festival this weekend. Not quite sure when we’ll be arriving, as we’re still working out napping logistics, but I hope to catch Patricia Storms, Dionne Brand, Stephen Heighton, the Leon Rooke interview, Marthe Jocelyn and Karen Connelly. I also hope to buy a few books. I will be reading on the second Fringe Stage (3:30-4:30 at “Cottage”– I’m last up). Come say hi, please, and I will give you a pumpkin scone* from our picnic!
*While supplies last.
August 22, 2010
Eden Mills Festival Fringe!
Today’s exciting news was that my story “You Can’t Run a Show on Stage Management Alone” was accepted as part of the Fringe Stage at the Eden Mills Writers Festival. This will be my third year attending the festival, and I was looking forward to it anyway, but that I’ll actually now be (a small) part of the event is overwhelming and really lovely. Hope some of you can make it out on Sunday September 19th, and we’ll start crossing our fingers for sunshine.
June 25, 2010
A Spotlight on Atlantic Canada Reads
So yes, I’m rereading Lisa Moore’s February, and loving it as much as I loved it the first time, even though I was delirious back then. All of this very timely, because February is currently in the running for Atlantic Canada Reads, a brilliant initiative by Chad Pelley of (another brilliant initiative) Salty Ink (“a spotlight on Atlantic Canada writers”). Check out the other books up for Atlantic Canada Reads, and read their defenses, and vote for the book you think should take the prize.
June 9, 2010
On The Orange Prize
So pleased that The Lacuna took The Orange Prize.
I gave up talking about The Orange Prize a few years ago, because the conversation was always annoying (“No one puts Baby in the ghetto”), but this year having read 3.5 of the six books on the shortlist, I felt somewhat invested in the whole thing. I also felt as though the shortlist itself was an excellent example of how the prize is doing exactly what it should be doing: celebrating the very best in women’s fiction.
Because this shortlist is living proof of two things: first, that “women’s literary fiction” is often distinct from literary fiction in general, either because it reads as such (and it can, and it does! and is often wonderful for it), or because it’s come into the world via a woman’s hand and is therefore received differently than literary fiction in general. Sometimes both these things are true, sometimes one is, and sometimes neither, which brings me to my next point:
That women’s literary fiction contains multitudes! Of course, each book on the shortlist actully shows the incredible range of excellent books written by anybody these days, gender notwithstanding, but that these are written by women is just another reason to celebrate them. Oh, and yes please, ho hum, a men’s literary award would indeed be sexist and the Orange Prize isn’t, because a) of the million reasons why being a man and being a woman are not immediately parallel experiences, b) the world is a bit more complicated that these stupid lobs of logic back and forth over the net, c) there already is a men’s literary award and it’s called the canon, thank you very much.
Anyway, this is the boring conversation I vowed that I’d avoid, so I’ll just say that I adored Attica Locke’s novel Black Water Rising, but its inclusion on the shortlist was a bit curious because the novel was so unabashedly commerical fiction. But it was such a good book, so ultimately realized in what it had set out to be, and I think it was included on the shortlist to show that women are writing some of the most unlikely women’s fiction these days. Similar with Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall, which I’m slowly working my way through. I historically hate historical fiction, without shame, which might be more than a bit discriminatory on my part, because though Wolf Hall‘s heft is dragging me down a bit, it’s a pretty fascinating read. It’s all politics and executions, and even the women portrayed within it are as far from women’s fictiony as women can get. And with The Lacuna too– yet another book with a man at its centre. I adored this book, had previously decided not to pick it up because of bad reviews, then it was shortlisted and I decided to give it a try. And it was amazing– I want to shake the people who didn’t like it and tell them they read it wrong, but that wouldn’t be polite. Anyway, The Lacuna only had about three women in it, and it took on most of the twentieth century, and that’s what women’s fiction is doing now, amazing stuff. As is Lorrie Moore’s The Gate at the Stairs, which does tackle more feminine topics, but with dazzling techical mastery of language, because it’s Lorrie Moore, after all. (And oh my, all these four books were so wonderful, I really will have to read the other two.)
The one problem here, however, is that now I’ve caught myself saying, “Look at women’s fiction, everybody! Doesn’t even read like a woman wrote it!” Which is not what I mean exactly, because there are certain books that only a woman could ever hae written, and their womenishness is the best thing about them. I think women write the best books going. BUT the Orange Prize gets knocked around so often for institutionalizing/ghetto-ising women’s fiction as ala grim, drunken-father-beating, rape in a hayloft, botched abortion, killed in a car-crash whilst getting thee to a nunnery THE END that I am pleased to see the shortlist doing anything but.
And I am pleased to see that the best of women’s fiction is amongst the best of ficton period.
May 18, 2010
Literary Gala Raising Funds for Motherhood Research and Activism
With readings by Miriam Toews, Di Brandt, Margaret Christakos, Afua Cooper, Rishma Dunlop, Diane Flacks, Susan Glickman, Marni Jackson, M. Nourbese Philip, Althea Prince, Jane Satterfield, and Priscila Uppal
In support of the newly established Motherhood Initiative for Research and Community Involvement (MIRCI).
Friday, May 21, 2010
7 pm to 10:30 pm
Oakham House
Ryerson University
63 Gould Street
Toronto, Ontario
When Andrea O’Reilly founded The Association for Research on Mothering (ARM), the world’s first feminist research association for the study of motherhood, she was amazed by the enthusiastic response she got. “We started in 1998 at York University, and over the years our association grew to have more than 500 members from two dozen countries, and ARM’s work included an academic journal and press,” says Dr. O’Reilly. “ARM recently moved out of the university and has been reborn as Motherhood Initiative for Research and Community Involvement (MIRCI), an independent non-profit organization. Its focus remains feminist scholarship, activism, and community involvement concerning the issues of mothering and motherhood.”
Tickets are $65 per person and available at the website, or at the door.
May 14, 2010
On BookCamp Toronto
I’m looking forward to being part of the Canada Reads session tomorrow at BookCamp Toronto at 2:00. Hope to see (and hear from!) some of you there to talk about the success of CBC’s Canada Reads program and the exciting possibilities for its future.
