January 17, 2007
My Wedding Dress by Whelehan and Carter (eds)
I can provide you with some sort of an idea of what it’s like to read My Wedding Dress: True-life Tales of Lace, Laughter, Tears and Tulle. Read the post below, and the imagine in ten times as long, and multiplied by twenty six. It’s a bit much, but then it also works.
It works because most of the pieces in this anthology are truly excellent. With contributions by such well-known names as Michelle Landsberg, Stevie Cameron, Lorna Crozier, Kerri Sakamoto, Edeet Ravel and Ami McKay, this is unsurprising. The wedding photos included are also a great addition to the text. There are an assortment of happy tales, hard lessons learned, and sadness endured. Jenny Manzer’s story of her wedding, just days after her mother’s death from cancer, had me in tears. When, after all the drama, Ilana Stanger-Ross’s mother stepped on them hem of her dress and it ripped, and Stanger-Ross just laughed. I do wish that Elyse Pomeranz had been a little less earnest about the fact that she knit the clothes she and her husband wore on their wedding day. She’s included a photo. I won’t say any more.
At their very core, anthologies are terribly self-indulgent. My blog post below is an example of this, I know it: my story, and I want you to hear it– no, I want to TELL it– and I won’t consider the likelihood that it’s not so extraordinary to you. Where My Wedding Dress succeeds is when contributers stick to the focus, as most of the strongest pieces do. The few pieces that faltered use the dress motif to springboard over to what they really want to talk about, which could be anything, and I didn’t find these contributions so interesting unless they were in the hands of a very good writer. My other criticism of this book is my first one: it’s a bit much. Naturally, stories like these are inspiring (my blog entry case in point), and everybody wants a turn, but I don’t think this book with its twenty-six pieces really required a forward, and afterword and two introductions. (I have a feeling this book will also inspire a sequel).
Target audience here would be quite specific: recent brides, and mothers of brides, I think. This book will be appreciated. Forthcoming brides, of course, don’t read because they are way too busy with calligraphy and decoupage.
January 17, 2007
My Wedding Dress
My wedding dress came off the rack. It wasn’t even a wedding dress. I’d set out that day with the sole specification that my dress be the prettiest one I find, and it was only by chance that the one I found was white.
My friend Bronwyn and I went shopping for dresses on Oxford Street in London a month before my wedding. Bronwyn had seen one already that she thought might be right, and I liked it too. A strapless dress from Coast, with red flowers beaded and embroidered around one side. I appreciated that it was white enough to be bridey, and the red was perfect. Red is my favourite colour. But of course, I still wanted to look around a bit. I tried on bridal dresses in a few other high street shops, and other distinctly non-bridal dresses. I don’t remember any of them. I do remember that by lunch time we knew the Coast dress was right, and when we found it in Debenhams with 20% off, we knew the universe was in agreement. We found a matching wrap in the accessories section, a pair of sandals, and got the underthings from M&S. Everything except the hair accessory, which I ended up making myself out of beads and a headband. And so basically, I was outfitted in a day, at a discounted rate no less. This is no romantic tale, but the dress was perfect. Bronwyn has good taste. I had the most beautiful bouquet in the world to match, and the red and white became our wedding theme. It was such a lovely day.
And so of course, I’ve got to weave a metaphor out of all of this. Which would be that I bought my wedding dress off the rack, on sale. The dress was gorgeous no doubt, but absolutely ordinary. The odds are that I will wear it again. And that ordinariness is my point. Our love for each other is so ordinary and absolutely unremarkable (and I mean this in the most romantic way one can), and I would not have to put on a costume to proclaim that. On my wedding day, I was dressed as myself, which was all that I had to be for us to work. It wasn’t a fairy tale, but it was our real life, and one which is wonderful every day.
January 17, 2007
This is My Country, What's Yours? by Noah Richler
A literary atlas plots our places with their stories, and the product of this one is Richler’s country (though of course, he invites us to consider our own). His Canada is much more than just the sum of parts, which is a daring stance to take in some circles, but one that is perhaps supported better by stories than any other foundation. He draws out the connections between Canadians. “You can forget about provincial boundaries and think about the singing of work as a calling these writers have in common. Do so, and our sense of the map of Canada as one of a disparate country is eroded and in its place another one appears, in which novels arising out of shared experiences wash over the territory”. And indeed, Richler manages to show this about more than just work, and our stories become what we have in common.
In the sense of a Canadian Literary Guide, this is an updated Survival, but it’s more a literary guide to Canada than a guide to CanLit. Also, (as Richler’s title suggests), this is a very personal guide. Richler comes to his text decisively, taking controversial stances (refusing to equate the novel with oral traditions, for example), but objectivity is never his intention. Which is more interesting to read than tiptoeing anyway, and his perspectives are well argued.
From sea to sea is not good enough for Richler. He believes that Canada would be a more unified nation had our route across it developed as a loop as opposed to a straight line along the Southern border, back and forth. If we could traverse Canada along the south and back around through the north, we’d be able to take in our country in its entirety. The North would not be missed. We’d arrive at the end and it would be where we started. And in a sense, Richler follows such a trajectory throughout his text. He begins with the Inuit, and the Natives further south, and discusses how Native writers are using the novel for their own purposes. Throughout the book, Richler’s ideas are ruminated over, developed and argued in conversations with other writers. His reader is privy to some excellent conversation. It’s akin to being a fly on the wall at a clever party. From the north, to Vancouver, and then the prairies. And finally, he considers what he sees as Canada’s three distinct societies: Newfoundland, Quebec and the City. Along the way, taking into account Multiculturalism (the new guiding force in CanLit, he says), the legacy of colonialism, the experiences of the Metis and the Acadians, and the seminal Canadian idea of “Nowhere”. As you might imagine, it’s quite a tour.
I liked this book because it taught me things I didn’t know, which is rarer in a book than one might think. I also like it for its rendering of a whole Canada, one in which we all share a part of each other’s story. This is not always an easy assertion to make these days, but one I appreciated this vision. And finally, with its emphasis on contemporary Canadian writing, Richler demonstrates the continuation of a rich and vibrant literary tradition in this country. Nowhere is definitively somewhere after all, and the future is full of possibility.
January 15, 2007
I'm all alone.
Thanks to copious amounts of ice and snow, my husband has been stranded in Montreal. He’s hoping to be back tomorrow.
Update: He’s back! Spent a lovely night in a hotel, caught and early flight back to TO and then worked all day. He’s knackerered. Bless.
January 14, 2007
This land
I’m about halfway through This Is My Country, What’s Yours?, and it’s so overwhelmingly good, I’m not sure what I’ll be able to say about it once I’m finished. Though undoubtedly a book about literature, this is a book about Canada first and foremont, informed by its stories. And so to read this book is to learn more about Canada than CanLit, really. In the past day, I’ve come across this program on the Westray Mining Disaster, and this article on violence and suicide in Nunavut, and my perspective on both is different than it would have been had I not just encountered these issues/places in Richler’s book. How incredibly current and important this book is. And I’m so glad I’ve got the hardcover, because I think it’s only going to mean more with time.
January 14, 2007
Stu is fine
Zadie Smith’s article on writing fiction is gorgeous, but gut-wrenching (or at least I thought so). “To become better readers and writers we have to ask of each other a little bit more.” Here for what happens to a poem when it rhymes. Harper Lee attends a student performance of To Kill a Mockingbird. They like My Wedding Dress in this review.
We’ve had a wonderful weekend. Out to Thai Basil Friday night, and the food was delicious. Andrea and Chris (of that valuable internet resource www.chrislev.com) came for dinner last night, and we partook in Apples to Apples with great joy. We’ve done a lot of relaxing too, which is fine as Stuart has to get up early tomorrow morning to fly to Montreal for a meeting. (How exciting!)
Speaking of Stuart, his family has reported that they don’t get enough Stuart updates here at Pickle Me This. You see, they live faraway across the sea, and six days out of seven, this site is their only portal into their dear son’s world. (And on the seventh day, there is the telephone). Perhaps I should start a blog devoted to Stuart, like Mama Bloggers do with their wee ones. With photos of Stu’s latest antics, and anecdotes about the cute things he says, and photos of him in bathtubs or sandboxes with other kids his age. Not that he gets up to much of that so often. And I’m not sure that Stuart would be too impressed with so much attention. We may just have to stick with our periodic updates, but rest assured that he’s doing just fine.
January 12, 2007
Peppermint Love
I’ve just learned that my household has acquired Apples to Apples, which is one of the most enjoyable games I’ve ever played. Though I hate most games so my perspective is limited, and this one is bound to infuriate serious game-lovers, as it has no rules. Though I still lost at it when we played, but I lose at all games. It’s my constitution. And so that’s fun news, and more fun is that I’ve got a date with my husband this eve. We’re having company for dinner tomorrow night and I’m looking forward to that (as well as a chance to break out the game?). And so life continues lamely, but nicely.
I finished rereading Alice Munro’s Who Do You Think you Are? yesterday. What an incredible book. I reread the legendary Lives of Girls and Women last summer, and wasn’t as impressed as I’d wanted to be. I think that Munro was constrained by “A Novel”, and Who Do You Think…, while definitely connected, was obviously composed of short stories and she’s better at that. In fact, she is extraordinary at that. I know I’m certainly not the first one to say so. It’s just nice to be reminded. And I’m now reading Noah Richler’s This Is My Country, What’s Yours?”, which is cool because the only other book on CanLit I’ve ever read was published in 1972, and certainly a lot has happened since then.
Here for an article on Richler’s and a few other unusual Canadian atlases, and their lessons on Canadian identity. 50,000 copies of Andrea Levy’s brilliant Small Island have been distributed through parts of Britain “to encourage reading, and discussion”. (Wonderful connections between Levy’s novel and Kate Atkinson’s work have just dawned on me). Here for Literary Pop Idolatry. Type Books in the press (and the business press to boot).
My new teapot is full of peppermint love, and I shall get down to an afternoon of glorious work.
January 12, 2007
Excellent. My plan is working.
Instead of just getting depressed, I’m going to start pretending to be an evil mastermind with plans toward world domination. When I’m listening to the radio and hear, for example, that whole cities were destroyed by flash floods, I will rub my hands together and said, “Eg-cellent. My plan is working.” If drug crime has run rampant throughout my neighbourhood, I will cackle with glee and exclaim, “Just as I’d expected.” 22% of Canadians are unable to read? “Finally– the pieces are coming together.” IF a mugger knocks me down in the street and steals my ipod shuffle (ha ha): “Cackle cackle, Sir,” I will say to him. “You are fulfilling your mission well.” The American President is going to win his failing war by expansion into Syria and Iran? “Ah, Mr. Bush,” I will say. “You are playing right into my hands.”
I have no expectations that this coping mechanism will result in a better world, but evil trumps lugubrious any day, and I just don’t think petitions work.
