December 16, 2008
Stuff and Things
My new favourite blog of the moment is The Rachel Papers. Find out what Maud Newton has enjoyed reading this year. Hilariously (via Broadsides) is Target Women: Jewelry. Stephanie Nolen is amazing. Rebecca Rosenblum’s best books of the year, and her book shows up on Steven W. Beattie’s. Justine Picardie inspires me to want to read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe for the first time. (Should I? Am I a fool to have waited this long anyway?) I am now reading Darkmans by Nicola Barker, which I’ll be writing more about in a day or two, because how could I possibly not? And Oh Baby, the Places You Will Go (A Book to be Read in Utero) has found its way into my life (via post)– what a treat. Nigel Beale in conversation with Anne Enright.
December 12, 2008
The fullest possible reckoning
“Along the way, during the editing process, or at least before the interview finally goes to press, the writer who has been interviewed is given the text to review and revise. This collaborative approach to the final product is unapologetically at odds with journalistic practice, where it is presumed that the reporter’s accuracy depends on strict independence from the subject’s influence. The Paris Review‘s purpose is not to catch writers off guard, but to elicit from them the fullest possible reckoning of what interests them most– their lives and work as writers, who they are and what they do all day. A few Paris Review interviews were accomplished in a single sitting, but it is far more common for them to be conducted over several seasons, even several years, with multiple sessions in person and many rounds of written correspondence as well.” –Philip Gourevitch, “Introduction”, The Paris Review Interviews, I
December 12, 2008
Top Eleven Indie Picks of 2008
My favourite books by independent publishers this year in no particular order (except perhaps a bit chronological). And my list’s explanation.
- Pulpy and Midge by Jessica Westhead (Coach House)
- Things Go Flying by Shari Lepena (Brindle and Glass)
- Stunt by Claudia Dey (Coach House)
- Flirt by Lorna Jackson (Biblioasis)
- Skim by Mariko Tamaki and Jillian Tamaki (Groundwood Books)
- Girls Fall Down by Maggie Helwig (Coach House)
- Silent Girl by Tricia Dower (Inanna)
- Once by Rebecca Rosenblum (Biblioasis)
- Entitlement by Jonathan Bennett (ECW)
- What It Feels Like for a Girl by Jennica Harper (Anvil Press)
- The Myth of the Simple Machines by Laurel Snyder (No Tell Books)
December 12, 2008
Indie Explanation
This year I’ve done a tremendous job at succeeding at my annual goals (mainly because they were very flexible [e.g. “Buy a house or move”, “Sell your novel or publish a whole bunch of other stuff”. 2008 was perhaps the year of the “or…”]). I am also pleased that I managed to meet one goal I didn’t even get around to making (though I meant to), which was to read more books by independent publishers.
But perhaps life made the goal for me, however, because so many indie books found their way to me this year. I read so many through fabulous initiatives like Fiery First First Fiction, and events like The Scream in High Park and the Eden Mills Festival, and then of course by word of mouth. Reading so many independent books has made 2008 a remarkable reading year.
But then it occurred to me that my Top Eleven contained none of these books. And as I tried to figure out why that is, I came up with two reasons. First, that independent publishers take risks that the big houses don’t, and so the results are more mixed, however incredible notable, important, brilliant. And second, which is related, my list is appealing to pretty mainstream tastes (such are often my own). I feel pretty sure about offering my Top Eleven up to anyone and figuring they’ll hold some appeal. This is not always the case with the independent books, which I’m sure neither writers nor publishers see as a wholly bad thing.
But they deserve a list of their own, surely. Top Eleven Indie Picks, for those readers looking for something challenging, alternative, off-the-wall and wonderful. So a list is to-be-posted, but first I wanted to write an explanation of why it appeared.
December 12, 2008
My little alligator pear
Is it tacky that I love my unborn child just a little bit more now I’ve learned it’s now the size of my favourite fruit? I picked one up at the market today, and felt more than a little bit moved. What a long way from an orange pip.
December 12, 2008
What a lucky one am I
Last month I was invited as a blogger and a writer to participate in the 33rd Art Matters forum, an initiative of Their Excellencies the Right Honourable Michaëlle Jean, Governor General of Canada, and Mr. Jean-Daniel Lafond. The theme of the forum was “A Passion for Reading/Le désir de lire”, and I had to accept the invitation, naturally, as it was irresistible however terrifying. How fortunate that terror can be swallowed too, because these last two days I’ll remember for the rest of my life.
First, the forum. Even before I met my co-panelists, I suspected their conversation would make for something very special. I’ve attended plenty of forums and literary events in my time, but never heard people speak from these particular backgrounds, and all speaking together no less. The other panelists were Margaret Eaton, President of the non-profit adult literacy foundation ABC Canada; Geneviève Côté, Governor General’s Award-winning children’s book illustrator, author, and arts educator; and Miriam Cusson, whose work as general and artistic director of Le Salon du Livre du Grand Sudbury has helped to cultivate a thriving Francophone literary culture in that city.
The forum was so much fun. Each panelist was so vibrant, well-versed in her particular point of view, and each of our presentations so complementary. (I will post a copy of my presentation in the next few days). The atmosphere was exceptional, each of us with something to share, nothing to prove, and ever-supportive of one another. All marvelously presided over by our moderator, CBC Arts Reporter Jeanette Kelly. I learned so much from the others, and from the presentations by the Governor General and M. Lafond. The audience clearly felt the ambiance to be as warm as I did, no one shying away from sharing their own perspectives on passionate reading, and everyone had something important to contribute. I was honoured and proud to be a part of this extraordinary event.
Another overwhelming aspect of my experience was the opportunity to spend the next two nights as a guest at Rideau Hall. I was so fortunate to be joined by my five panel co-participants, who were exceptionally good company and made the experience a lot of fun. Our rooms were magnificent, decorated with brilliant Canadian art, furnished beautifully, outfitted for everything a guest could possibly require, and oh, the comfort. I’ve never in my life been to anyplace so nice, and I’m not sure when I’ll have such an experience again. We were treated so well, a particular highlight being our breakfast on the veranda– a glassed in porch with the sun shining in and the snow-covered grounds of Rideau Hall on show. I could have lingered there forever, the conversation with these women so exciting and inspiring. Rideau Hall is impeccably run by a staff whose object seems to be their guests’ comfort, even if that guest is ordinary me.
And then there was the presentation of the Governor General’s Literary Awards last evening, which the five of us were so fortunate to attend. The atmosphere at Rideau Hall was electric as the guests arrived, well-dressed men and women who appeared in their element, and then the writers, artists and publishers dressed in the nicest clothes they’d ever put on in their lives. All ecstatic to be in attendance. The Governor General made a tremendous impression, the artists’ acceptance speeches were so moving and inspiring, and when all rose to sing our national anthem at the end of the event, I’ll confess to crying a little bit. The evening had been so moving, and I was once again proud and honored to be a part of it. It made me think of any cries of elitism, which should be shot down by the simple fact they let me in. And that once a year, at the very very least, we do celebrate our country’s literature in such style. That these artists have it affirmed that what they do matters, and I can only imagine how satisfying that must be after the struggle and sacrifice required to succeed in the arts at all.
I am not sure I even suspected how truly marvelous days could be (and we all know that I do collect good days like postcards). My respect for Michaëlle Jean knows no bounds, I think, and I am awed by her intelligence, her demeanour and elegance– class personified. I have met some lovely people I hope to know for a while, and made fabulous memories. And now to be home again, where the staff aren’t so agreeable but it’s where I belong. What a lucky one am I.
December 9, 2008
For the journey
I catch my train to Ottawa in just a little while, though I still have to shower/dress, pack, and shovel snow in the meantime. My stack of books, however, has been prepared. As this is a train journey I am taking all by myself (which happens rarely) to a most special event, I decided that now was a fitting time for me to finally read Carol Shields’ Dressing Up for the Carnival— the last of Shields’ books I had to be read. I am also bringing Darkmans by Nicola Barker, and Consequences by Penelope Lively, The Paris Review Interviews Vol. 1, and a stack of periodicals that I’ll probably ignore just as I have done so during the last two months they’ve been sitting at my bedside.
December 9, 2008
Top Eleven Picks of 2008
That any book was reviewed here during this past year means that I liked it enough to recommend it to you, though my very favourites are listed here. And of that crop, I’ve narrowed to eleven for the sake of conciseness. My top eleven of 2008 as follows:
- When Will There Be Good News? by Kate Atkinson: “If this was the first book by Atkinson you’d ever encountered, you’d forget genre and just fall in love with it. You would fall in love with her.”
- American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld: “…this a marvelous achievement of Sittenfeld’s work, that she makes love for a George Bush-y character seem plausible. Not that it’s all sentimental, and throughout the book Alice herself is at times downright unsympathetic, but these aren’t caricatures, or even ‘characters’; they’re people and they’re real.”
- The Flying Troutmans by Miriam Toews: “…the book is a joy to read, however disturbing and awful. The Flying Troutmans is touching but without compromise, and only a really great writer could do that.”
- The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer: “That this delightful book was brought to me, full of all the things I like the best– an epistolary novel, begun on the basis of a used book’s passage from one reader to another, full of wonderful literary references, even a bookish mystery of sorts, plus a reference to the joys of peering in windows, and a teapot that’s used as a weapon.”
- Girl Meets Boy by Ali Smith: “But Smith’s language, of course, is always her most marvelous trick. Amidst all the stuff, rendering her thesis quite simple: that in a world where things are changeable, things can change. Innumerable doors swinging open upon this promise, that progress is a way forward after all.”
- Novel About My Wife by Emily Perkins: “Perkins has created a puzzle of a puzzle. I read this book in anticipation of the ending the first time, and then the second time I pored over the text in search of clues. But both times I was entirely caught up in both this extraordinary story and its more ordinary concerns.”
- The Girl in Saskatoon by Sharon Butala: “Thriller, novel, historical record, reminiscence, elegy, etc., all contained within one mesmerizingly readable package.”
- The Letter Opener by Kyo Maclear: “…this is rumination after all. The Letter Opener is primarily the story of Naiko’s own self-discovery, as she realizes her constructions of others through their objects tells more about her own self than anybody else’s. And this story is fascinatingly beautiful, a satisfying read.”
- Nikolski by Nicolas Dickner, translated from French by Lazer Lederhendler: “‘Nothing is perfect,’ so goes the next line in the story, but I really might put forth that Nikolski is… Dickner has married cleverness with depth, sustaining his ideas with a tireless deftness.”
- Arlington Park by Rachel Cusk: “So I was prepared for something Woolfian then, which in my experience has always required a different kind of reading. One in which you let the prose lead you where it may, but paying utmost attention. It’s a significant cerebral investment, and necessitates a period of adjustment upon returning to the real world once again.”
- The Monsters of Templeton by Lauren Groff: “With a spirit threatening to fade when the monster dies, when all seems bleakest, but there is so much hope, and such a gorgeous ending: ‘and it is good.’ I finished reading this last night near 1am, and couldn’t sleep for a long time, just thinking about it, and smiling.”
December 9, 2008
The Hour I First Believed by Wally Lamb
I’m really not sure what posterity will make of Wally Lamb. I’ve forgotten much about his two previous novels in the ten years since I’ve read them, though it should be noted also that I was a less attentive reader then. Of course, I don’t mean to say that Lamb’s books are forgettable, but rather they’re so tied up in zeitgeist, so steeped in here and now, that I’m altogether curious about how they’ll end up traveling through time.
The Hour I First Believed plants the fictional Caelum Quirk in nonfictional terrain. Though he and his wife Maureen both work at Columbine High School in Littleton Colorado, it is only Caelum who has the strange fortune of being on the other side of the country on April 20, 1999. While Maureen is at work– she’s a school nurse– and she’s in the school’s library when the two infamous killers burst in. Her strange fortune is to find shelter curled up inside a cabinet where she hides for hours, listening to the massacre, to blaring fire alarms, and being unsure of whether she will live or die.
Maureen survives, but she also doesn’t, as the Maureen emerging from the tragedy is somebody new altogether. She is racked by Post Traumatic Stress, left unable to work for a long time, becomes addicted to her medication, and begins upon a downward spiral that takes her further from any chances of reconstructing her life. As for their life– Maureen’s and Caelum’s– their marriage had been on shaky ground already, Caelum a troubled and sometimes unsympathetic narrator/husband, often acting on his worst instincts and internalizing his feelings. Neither he nor Maureen is able to give the other what they need.
Columbine is a moment in this book then, but it is not the moment, not in a book that reaches up into the present and far back into the past. Following Caelum Quirk against a backdrop that includes September 11th, Hurricane Katrina and the war in Iraq. And also back into his ancestry, from his alcoholic Korean War-vet father, his great-grandmother the women’s prisons reformer, and his great-great-(great?) grandmother, the formidable abolitionist and civil war nurse. Caelum coming to understand the weight of a single moment in the context of chaos theory, how one event can resonate back and forth through time.
At 700+ pages, this book is huge, though it is stuffed with plot rather than verbosity. Also worth noting that somehow it is not so heavy, and really not a strain on the old wrists. And that though some parts dragged and I skimmed more than I would have liked, reading it was a pleasure. I loved this enormous book, and I was sorry when it was finished, which is certainly saying something for a book that is so fat.
Lamb’s novel uses extra-textual devices to gain access to the past without breaking from his plot– diary excerpts, letters, reports, even parts of a PhD. thesis. Elsewhere the novel uses email and news reports (actual or otherwise) to broaden its scope, and though these can be effective, they do run on long. These were the parts where I found myself skimming, and I’m not sure my skimmage really detracted from the reading experience– cutting some of these bits would have helped the book slim down, and allowed the focus to stay on the characters we really care about (because they are so evocatively portrayed that we really really do).
Wally Lamb does amazing things with fact and fiction here though, inserting his characters into actual situations, and not just Columbine– for example, Caelum’s great-grandmother recounting the day she met Mark Twain. Lamb has the Quirks interacting with actual victims of the Columbine killings, lending verisimilitude to this fictional world. The fictional plot similarly taking on actual issues, including the current events already mentioned, and Lamb draws on his experience as a teacher in a women’s prison to address prisoner’s rights and possibilities of rehabilitation. Showing we’ve come far from the days when a prison warden could hang on her office wall a sign that said, “A woman who surrenders her freedom need not surrender her dignity”.
The Hour I First Believed is massive and American in its scope, self-consciously an epic quest narrative, and like I said, I am not completely sure how perpetuity will receive it. Which is not to undermine, because I think this book is so important for right now. A gorgeous story that manages to make sense of the times we live in, which is a miraculous achievement, actually. I plan to remember this one for a long while.
